Outsiders called us fortunate, but my husband and I were drowning in grief and overwhelm.
In November 2024, we lost our home and everything we owned in a house fire. A few weeks later, we sat in shock at our short-term rental with two suitcases full of our only remaining items and a check for $504,000 from insurance.
This event led me to an important question: What do you do when your gain and your grief arrive together?
I’ve come to know that millions are asking variations of this same question in the quiet corners of their outwardly successful lives. This is the paradox of wealth: what it feels like to simultaneously have it all and lose everything. I’ve found the answer lies in acknowledging the nuanced experience of “having it all,” grounding decisions with personal values, and rebuilding meaning with your newfound identity.
What Was Lost
In November 2024, my now-husband and I reached the eight-month milestone of being first-time homeowners. We had moved in, refinished the hardwood floors, ripped out the blue and green carpets, and installed new flooring in the bedrooms. Patrick and his dad had just finished the major deck repair.
By this eight-month mark, we were feeling proud. We started settling in in the type of way where you don't just fill the space. You imagine what will be there eventually. We saw our future kids playing on the backyard playset and family gatherings in front of the fireplace. This had us feeling excited and driven to bring these visions to life—with the budget line items to back that eventual basement remodel and popcorn ceiling fix.
But November 2024 was also two months before our wedding. So, we intentionally paused the projects, decorated early for the holidays, and packed two suitcases with our two dogs to visit family in Wisconsin for Thanksgiving.
We left our home on a Saturday morning in November 2024, and three days later, on Tuesday morning at 2am, Patrick and I woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing on the windowsill. Through squinty eyes, he looked at his screen and read the words: Maplewood police.
We actually missed that first call in our daze, but the phone rang again immediately, so Patrick picked up. That’s when I heard the unforgettable sentence.
“I am so sorry to tell you this. Your house is on fire.”
In those first few hours and days, we experienced every emotion. There was shock (it felt unbelievable that our house was gone) and grief (everything we owned, everything we’d collected over time was gone: the Christmas tree we’d just put up, grandma’s sweaters, letters saved from loved ones, all of our clothing and shoes and kitchenware and towels and furniture).
The list was endless, and we were regularly reminded of just how much loss there was when we’d reach for that comfort sweatshirt and remember it was gone . . . or go to put on PJs and have none . . . or go to make dinner, and realize we had to buy a new crockpot, measuring cups, knives, cutting boards, and spices. It was all the little things we took for granted.
It was almost too much, and we would not have made it through without our community who showed up for us instantly in the most generous and kind ways. I could go on forever about all the kind things people did for us. I could also tell many stories about what it was like to lose our home in a total loss house fire two months before our wedding.
But what I’m here to write about today is what happened six weeks after the fire.
It was January 2025. I was sitting at a desk in the corner of our Airbnb, where we were temporarily housed, and my computer was literally propped up on a shoe box as I tried to keep my business alive amidst everything. My eyes kept darting to the Airbnb’s dining table across the room. I knew that in a stack of papers on that table was a check for $504,000—the most amount of money I had ever seen with my name on it.
More information here:
The Happiness Myth
We claim to know money doesn’t buy happiness. Perhaps you’re even familiar with the most cited study on this topic, where researchers Daniel Kahneman and Angus Deaton only found a correlation between money and happiness until you reach an annual income of about $75,000, or $103,000 in today’s numbers.
Yet for many of us, money remains an unchecked aspiration. Even the most financially literate individuals still make decisions based on the assumption that money—and more of it—is always good. Even I, a triple-certified financial coach with a master’s degree in psychology (the study of wellbeing), assumed it would feel different to receive over half a million dollars.
That’s because there are two sides to the story.
One is the story of cash. It’s true that we need dollars to pay for life, survive hardship, and feel prepared for our futures. When individuals called my husband and me “lucky” as we bought our new home, clothes, and furniture in the months that followed the house fire, this is likely what they were referring to—and they weren’t incorrect.
But the other story is emotion and psychology. We need meaning, not just resources, to experience wellness and longevity. When I felt lost, empty, and confused after the fire while sitting at an $1,800 office desk in our new home, this is the side I needed to remember. And this is what I am here to remind you.
A Changing Financial Landscape
Financial literacy is no longer just about finding the right percentage of income to save vs. spend, how to grow your portfolio, or how to optimize your cash flow.
In March 2021, the Certified Financial Planner (CFP) board added the “psychology of financial planning” to its education and testing requirements. Meanwhile, designations such as Certified Financial Therapist (CFT), Behavioral Finance Advisor (BFA), and Financial Life Planner continue to increase in popularity. Clients are demanding more holistic support with their financial plans, and professionals are reporting better results when they include it.
As we standardize these inclusions, however, I caution us not to lose sight of the core need they attempt to address. Some accountability must fall to us as individual stewards of our money and choices. We are, after all, the only ones who pay the price of either finding or forever chasing true fulfillment.
Financial literacy is no longer just about knowing your numbers; it’s about knowing yourself. The truth you must ask and answer is simple, but it takes courage, self-awareness, and persistence.
- In your current financial season, what do you really enjoy?
- What do you truly care about?
- What do you genuinely value?
These questions are basic, and you’ve likely already asked and answered them many times. But when your life changes—through promotion, inheritance, or another form of sudden wealth—a rediscovery and recalibration are needed. You have a new perspective on the world, what’s available to you, and what’s possible for your future. Your money choices should reflect this intentionally.
More information here:
Does Money Buy Happiness? What the Research Really Says
The Other Side of Hedonic Adaptation: When Life Knocks You Down
How to View Money Differently
While the financial industry is evolving to include values clarification, emotional intelligence, and behavioral psychology, it’s still common for individuals to separate their financial plans and budgets from “soft skill” insights and conversations. But especially when money and identity shift at the same time, like in sudden wealth situations, separation doesn’t work.
This is when the financially successful struggle the most. They have money but feel anxious spending it. They want clarity but feel overwhelmed with every choice. They say they’re grateful or happy but silently feel guilty or undeserving. This could have easily been us after receiving a significant insurance payout—and if you also recognize yourself in false scarcity, confusion around purpose, or indecision, you’re not alone.
The solution is to directly apply, and then keep present, your clarified sense of self and emotional attunement. Once your values, priorities, and preferences feel clear, compare them with your financial plans and spending patterns. If someone looked at how you allocate money, would they correctly assume what you care about and enjoy—or would they guess something else?
The tenets of honest self-awareness and alignment between what you value and where your money flows are the foundation of my trademarked Joyful Budgeting process. I guide clients through a signature money coaching process to first uncover individual values, goals, questions, and beliefs that shape our financial behaviors and preferences. Then, through this psychology-forward lens, I support clients to develop an empowering money plan that’s not only enjoyable to use but simplifies financial decisions and cash flow opportunities, because it is built around those pre-defined values, goals, and preferences. I developed this for clients who wanted to feel more empowered with their money choices, more genuinely confident in their plans, and more financially aligned with what matters to them—not just because they know their numbers, but because they know how they feel about them.
When our house burned down in 2024, the system I’d created and taught for over a decade was put to the ultimate test—and it passed. When my husband and I received more money than we’d ever seen, we had a way to figure out, practically and emotionally, how to use it. We used the Joyful Budgeting method to organize how to pay for life and plan for our future while simultaneously replacing every clothing item, kitchen utensil, garage tool, furniture item, piece of art, rug, curtain, and book we’d ever owned. And because we had this method, our decisions were made with confidence instead of overwhelm, with conviction instead of grief; we knew we had it all covered, and while it was a lot to figure out in the moment, we felt good knowing our decisions were made through a lens of values, goals, and joys.
This approach is available to anyone, and it starts with the basic questions listed previously. What do you care about, what brings you joy, and how do your money choices reflect these truths?
Staying Emotionally Accountable
Even with a plan, one thing became undeniable as we transitioned from recovery to rebuilding to moving forward: our peace did not come from the money alone; it came from our relationship with it.
Especially for driven, analytical thinkers—which define many high achievers and high earners—this last piece is imperative. It is not enough to ask ourselves what is important and then outline a corresponding money plan one time. Just like a marriage or friendship, our relationship with money must be intentionally nurtured. If your relationship with money isn’t built into your financial routine, you’ll likely slip into old habits that don’t feel good, follow outdated rules that no longer apply, and wonder why money feels stressful again—even when your bank account says otherwise.
As you view your money and financial decisions through this newfound lens of value alignment, emotional intelligence, and joy, frequently check in with how your choices feel.
Does resistance appear every time you add to your vacation fund? Perhaps travel used to be your top priority, but you now crave quieter weekends at home. Are you making the type of money you once dreamed about, but you are still stress-shopping for the best deals? Perhaps frugality used to be a necessity, but it is now more of a habit that limits your sense of safety and joy.
These emotional data points are the missing pieces in many financial conversations, and they are pieces that cannot be automated or considered only once every decade when you revisit your estate plans. Another reason high earners, inheritors, and financially successful people still feel anxious, isolated, and unfulfilled with wealth is because they haven’t considered how they’re feeling about their money choices based on today’s preferences and reality. This can be true even if they had followed a values-aligned financial plan years ago.
Your numbers matter, but they are not the whole story; your emotions matter, too. Real financial well-being occurs when we are regularly in tune with both.
More information here:
Seeking Mental Health Support as a Doctor
Lessons from the Fire
Money is a tool, but it is also a mirror. It reflects what we love, what we fear, what we hope for, and what we believe we deserve.
After the fire and after the check, I learned you can rebuild a house in a year, but rebuilding a life requires intention. Money may have helped us to survive, but it is our relationship with money that helped us to move forward with meaning and purpose.
If you’re earning more than you ever have or you expect to inherit or receive sudden wealth, remember: financial success is not just about having enough money; it’s about feeling at peace with how you use it. Gain and grief can coexist, and you have permission to feel both. Return to a few basic but powerful questions—and dare to imagine money differently.
Have you ever been in a situation where you've experienced gain and grief at the same time? What happened? How did you deal with it? What did you learn from the experience?