Everybody talks about money like it’s the only thing that matters. Lower taxes. Bigger houses. Cheaper gas. Better “financial opportunities.” America has turned relocation into a spreadsheet exercise where human emotion gets treated like a rounding error.
I bought into that mentality too.
On paper, staying in Texas made perfect sense. The cost of living was lower. Life was more affordable. Financially, it was the “smart” move. That’s what people tell you when they’ve reduced life down to monthly expenses and mortgage payments.
But here’s the truth nobody wants to admit: a quiet house feels a lot heavier when your kids are 1,400 miles away.
At some point, the numbers stopped mattering as much. I realized I was optimizing my finances while missing moments that actually mattered.
Teenage years are short.
Brutally short.
One minute they’re asking you to take them for ice cream, and the next they’re driving, dating, graduating, and building lives that no longer revolve around you.
And if you miss those years, you do not get a refund.
People will call it irrational to leave a financially comfortable life behind. They’ll tell you California is too expensive. They’ll tell you it’s a downgrade.
Smaller home.
Higher bills.
More stress.
Maybe they’re right.
But what’s the point of winning financially if your personal life feels emotionally bankrupt?
Nobody lies on their deathbed wishing they had protected a lower mortgage payment. Nobody looks back proudly and says, “I’m glad I sacrificed time with my children for better tax advantages.”
The older I get, the more I realize something uncomfortable: many people, including myself, was financially stable but emotionally broke.
So yes, I’m willing to reset my life.
Because being close to my two teenage kids is worth more to me than a higher net worth.
I know how to create more income, but I can never reclaim memories lost.
Onward 🫡
If you enjoyed reading this and want to show your support, you can buy one of my non-fiction and children’s books at edgarescoto.com.
