Why I'm Pursuing Financial Independence

A random Tuesday in the behavioral health field might look something like this.

Wake up at 5:30am because that's the only time you have to exercise. By 7:30 you're fighting a kid to eat breakfast and slamming a smoothie on the way out the door.

8:30 - First case of the morning, client isn't home. They had an appointment nobody told you about. No problem. Head to the next case early, arrive mid-tantrum, parents trying to negotiate with a snack. You handle it. Session goes well. Notes submitted.

12:30 - Afternoon case: parent says they have to run an errand during therapy. You've had this conversation before.  You agree to end session early.  You'll have this conversation again.  

2:00 - Midday your phone rings. RBT in tears, says she can't do this anymore. Third one this year.  

2:45 - Forgot to eat lunch amidst the hustle and bustle, gonna have to skip it.  Then the operations meeting.  Will they have snacks?  No - Billable units were down last week. Two notes still outstanding.

I'm not describing a bad employer. I'm describing a Tuesday in a field under structural pressure. Most behavioral health professionals - BCBAs, school psychologists, SLPs, OTs — have a version of this story.

You went to school for this because you love the science. You love the clinical work. The billing minimum was not part of the original agreement.

The part nobody tells you

When your financial situation requires the job, the job has leverage over you.  

That's not a character flaw. It's a contingency. When the cost of walking away is too high, the practical ability to push back, renegotiate, or leave is close to zero. And most people in this field have never been told there's a way to change that ratio.

I know because I was one of them.

How I found out FI wasn't just for tech bros

I spent five years consuming financial content and doing nothing with it. Books, podcasts, advice from 23 year old single people making more money than I did talking about how easy it is to just be flexible. 

Part of the problem was the audience that FIRE content was built for. Software engineers asking what to do with a $50,000 quarterly bonus. Physicians five years into a $400,000 salary. None of it started where I was: $65,000 salary, a mountain of student loan debt, and a growing family.

What I eventually figured out is that financial independence is available at my income level. It just looks different than the stock photos suggest. And it takes longer. But the destination is the same: the point at which your financial picture provides true optionality.

What optionality actually looks like

Here's a concrete example.

You're interviewing for your next role. Slight promotion, looks good on paper. The interviewer mentions two things you don't like. One will almost certainly get in the way of doing quality work. The other just isn't ideal.

You get to the negotiation stage. You call out both. You pitch what you actually need to do the job well. You're willing to take the lower end of the salary band to get those terms.

Because you don't need the extra $8,000 per year. So you have the power.

That's the destination. Not a beach drinking daiquiris indefinitely. Not a portfolio that lets you never work again. The financial margin to walk into that room and mean it.

The numbers, briefly

I'm not financially independent yet. I want to be clear about that.

What I have is breathing room. In 2019, my net worth was negative $27,000. My wife and I had student loans, car debt, and a growing household running on a combined income that never crossed $120,000.

In 2021 we paid off $53,000 in six months and kept going. Net worth crossed $530,000 sometime in the last year.  We can live off one salary.  

No windfall. No inheritance. Consistent, deliberate decisions made over five years.

I still have a job - and I thoroughly enjoy what I do. I still need an income. But if something falls apart — rate cuts, billing shortfalls, a company decision I can't work around — I'm not starting from zero.  But I'd rather not have that decision made for me.  

My worst case scenario is pretty good. That's the margin I'm building toward, and it's what this framework is designed to help you build toward too.

What Tuesday looks like from the other side

I'm not there yet. But here's where I've arrived so far.

I still wake up to an alarm - but only 10 months out of the year to get my 6 year old off to school.  I can have an hour to myself to drink my coffee alone if I want.  I can drop him off every day.  

I start my day between 8:30 and 9.  I get to work on things I want to work on - and some things that make me earn my paycheck, but that's OK. I can get my kids from school. Ride bikes.  Maybe work a few more hours in the evening when I need to.  

When I'm in the room with a client or a clinical team, I'm there because I chose to be — and I think the work is better for it.

That's not early retirement. That's a Tuesday.

If you're in behavioral health, school psychology, speech language pathology, or occupational therapy, and you've never heard the FI conversation framed this way — that's exactly why I'm writing about it.

Almost nobody in your field is talking about it.