Financial Freedom Isn't About Money

My Personal Journey from Financial Slavery to Financial Freedom

Stress comes in many forms and affects each of us differently. What causes me stress might not even register on your radar. But one thing I know for sure: financial stress, whether it's debt or the constant pressure to earn more, touches us all. It doesn’t matter how much is in your bank account, the size of your mortgage, or how many figures are on your payslip.

Five years ago, my life took a sharp turn. I went from earning a six-figure salary to earning nothing, literally overnight. It was intentional, of course, but that didn’t make it any easier. Nothing prepares you for such a massive life changing event.

Annual bonuses, company perks, a sea of air miles? Gone. Business class flights and swanky event invitations? Also gone. But strangely, those weren’t the things I missed most. What I truly missed were the people. The colleagues I respected, learned from, and leaned on. Leaving behind 20+ years in corporate employment to forge a new path was never going to be smooth sailing.

Life is a journey. Enjoy the sail.

I didn’t realise how important my crew had been until I found myself drifting alone. I was used to having immediate access to a wide network of influential people. That exclusive support system gave me a strong start. At first, news of my departure was a novelty, then the messages of support slowly dried up. That was expected, and I was still confident I’d made the right decision.

What I hadn’t expected was how much my stories of stress and anxiety in the workplace would resonate. I had panic attacks at my desk, something I now know is common, particularly for expectant mothers. My pregnancy was challenging, and not exactly a joyful time. When you're focused on growing a tiny human, you naturally ease off the gas, and there's a risk of becoming easy prey for the vultures at head office. I would’ve happily started maternity leave at the 12-week scan and never looked back! (Kidding. Kind of.)

The office had been my home. My colleagues were my family. And the company was my parent. How f@cked up is that?

In those final weeks of work, I had the most honest conversations of my career. As I was open about moving into the mental health field, colleagues began to open up. The walls came down. I was no longer someone they needed to put on a brave face for. They told me about their partners' depression, their children’s eating disorders, their own struggles with anxiety and addiction.

These were people in high-powered roles, managing vast budgets and thousands of employees. And they weren’t getting the help they needed. I felt helpless. But deep down, I knew I could make a bigger difference from outside the system than from within.

Fast forward five years, and the penny finally dropped: I was one of those people.

Rich in income, but poor in health. I had completely disconnected from nature’s true calling; to be a mother. I delayed having children for so long that I now have one beautiful child, longing for siblings I couldn’t give her. Like many others, I once believed the idea that you can "have it all." Looking back, I realise how unrealistic that notion can be, and it still surprises me when I hear it mentioned.

So many of my ex-colleagues are still stuck in that world, dreaming of starting their own businesses or living a simpler life. But they feel trapped. I felt it too. I was under enormous pressure as the main breadwinner, completely unaware of the financial prison I’d built for myself. The mortgages. The school fees. The need to keep up appearances. I thought financial freedom meant earning more, always more. How wrong I was. Eventually, I asked myself:

How much money is enough?

My journey toward a less stressful life really began in 2019, when I was accepted into MHFA England’s Instructor Program. My business plan was approved, and I was on track to earn the same income by year two. That didn’t happen, and that’s okay. It would have meant working the same long hours and ending up right back where I started: stressed out, burned out, and missing my child’s early years.

Then came 2020. My MHFA qualification was delayed, which was both a blessing and a curse. With only my husband's income and few hiring options for me, we had to move fast. We sat down, reviewed every monthly expense, and took some bold steps… including moving to another country with a lower cost of living. It started on the back of a fag packet (we don’t smoke, so probably a post-it), and soon we had a five-year plan on paper, spreadsheets full of numbers, and, just like that, I was back in my comfort zone.

We cut back. Hard.

• Rent – The fancy 4-bed townhouse in an exclusive London neighbourhood? Gone.

• Utilities – Downsized the house, downsized the bills.

• TV Licence – Cancelled. We stopped watching live TV (we don’t even own a TV now).

• Subscriptions – Netflix? Gone. Amazon Prime? Gone. Luxury cinema membership? Also gone.

• Charity direct debits – Stopped. My virtue-signalling days were over.

• Coffee – My Pret/Costa habit was like a second mortgage. Bye-bye.

• Restaurants – From dining out 3x a week to Sunday fish & chips.

• Supermarkets – We slashed our food bill by 40%. No rules, just conscious choices: raw ingredients, yellow stickers (reduced items), less waste.

• Plastic bottle obsession – Designer cosmetics, fancy toiletries, 7 cleaning products. All gone.

  
  

Who knew a domestic financial reset could feel so liberating?

Next up: the physical clear-out, in preparation for the move abroad. Despite moving countries three times in the past decade, we’d still accumulated way too much stuff.

Clothes and shoes took up far too much space. So I sold my designer suits, dresses and bags on eBay, comforted by the thought they were going to good homes. (Probably.) I'll admit I kept my favourite pair of Jimmy Choos.

I’m still working towards a minimalist wardrobe: three tops, three trousers, three pairs of shoes, three seasonal coats. It's a work in progress, but I’ve made strides. These days I never check a suitcase in, just a backpack with the essentials.

Then came the car boot sales. Gifting things to friends felt good. Facebook Marketplace brought in some useful pocket-money. With every item we let go of, we felt lighter. As our home emptied out, our minds followed. In moments of weakness, my husband reminded me:

“If it doesn’t hurt a little, you probably haven't got rid of enough.”

By September 2020, we were living in Spain. Our bills were cut in half, and all we took with us fit in the back of the car (no, not the BMW Z3, we were 2012 Nissan Qashqai people now). Phase one of our new life: complete. We felt healthier, happier, and finally free, well, freer. The sunshine and sea air helped, sure. But the real transformation, emotionally, physically and spiritually, came from that one powerful decision:

To choose financial freedom over financial slavery.

The next phase took longer, forced us to dig deeper, and really question our values, our child's education, and our future. How are we going to survive when the system crashes? Where will our income come from? And how will we stay sane, happy, and healthy when the world around us seems to be losing the plot?! It became clear that downsizing alone wasn't enough. We needed to be intentional about how we used what we had. That meant reorganising our assets, making our money work harder for us, and stepping further away from the traditional financial system we once relied on. It wasn’t just about spending less, it was about reclaiming control, designing a life on our own terms, and building something more resilient and, if possible, meaningful. What came next would challenge us in new ways, but it also brought a deeper sense of purpose, and freedom.

If my story resonates with you, if you’re feeling the weight of financial pressure, career burnout, or the quiet ache of wanting something different, know that you’re not alone, and change is possible. I’ve walked the path from financial slavery to freedom, and am helping others do the same. Whether you're at a crossroads, feeling stuck, or just starting to question the pace and price of your current life, I’d love to support you. If you're ready to take that first step, reach out for a one-on-one consultation. Together, we can take practical steps toward a simpler, more intentional life, one that supports both your financial and emotional wellbeing.