People sometimes say things like, “For someone who makes decent money, you sure are broke all the time.”

I usually laugh, because on the surface, it probably looks true.

I drive an old, beat-up truck.
My farm looks rough around the edges.
There’s reclaimed wood, cinder blocks, and reused materials everywhere.
My clothes are stained. My shoes are dirty.

But here’s the thing: things don’t fix my life.

For a long time, I lived tightly. Tax refunds and bonuses weren’t “extra” — they were survival. They were the only moments I could afford something nice, or something necessary, without sacrificing food or stability. Back then, money carried urgency and emotion.

That’s not my reality anymore.

Now, my needs are met month to month. I don’t need a big bank account to buy peace or permission. I have disposable income. I just choose not to turn it into shiny proof that I’m doing well.

Instead, my money goes into:

• Investments
• Paying down debt
• The future of the farm
• Tools that last
• Quality where it matters

I don’t buy more things — I buy better ones.
My shoes cost more now, because they last.
I own good tools, not decorative ones.
A KitchenAid. A solid band saw. A fence post pounder that does its job right.

None of it looks impressive on Instagram.
All of it makes my life calmer, more capable, and more stable.

Minimalism, for me, isn’t about aesthetics. It’s about peace.
It’s about not needing to prove anything.
It’s about building something durable instead of visible.

So yes — I might look broke.
But I’m not scrambling. I’m not anxious. I’m not chasing.

I’m free.