When I first saw Nick Maggiulli’s post titled “You Cannot Put a Price on Mental Freedom”, I assumed he was talking about FIRE.
You know, the dream of waking up on a Tuesday and deciding to go for a long walk, read a book, or do absolutely nothing. The kind of financial freedom that gives you full control over your time. That’s what I thought he meant.
But it wasn’t.
Nick was talking about something else: the mental freedom you gain when you stop being an active investor.
If you’ve ever gone down the path of picking stocks, trading options, timing markets, you know how easy it is to become consumed by it. Your portfolio stops being a financial tool and starts becoming a mirror. Your performance becomes your personality.
Your net worth becomes your self-worth.
It’s worse than rooting for a sports team. At least fans know they have no control over the outcome (maaaaaybe not everyone, but…). When you’re actively trading, every win and every loss feels personal. Because you made the decision. You pressed the button. You own the result.
The kicker? Basically no one is doing this full-time. They have demanding day jobs. They’re tired. They’re stressed. But somewhere between meetings and emails, they’re trying to outsmart the market.
I get the appeal. I really do. If you’re unfulfilled in your career, the markets can feel like a way out: a new game to win. Part of the draw might be how tough it is to keep climbing the ladder at work. The higher you go, the steeper the climb. Everyone around you is sharper, more experienced, and pushing just as hard. So yeah, it can feel like a relief to just step off that track and try winning at something else entirely.
But it often just becomes another source of frustration. If the pros struggle to beat the market, what chance does a part-time amateur have?
I once had a colleague whose husband was a PM in a hedge fund. She told me she downloaded Bloomberg on her phone just so she could monitor his positions in real time. Not because she was interested in markets, but because she needed to know what kind of mood he’d be in that night. Nothing like rage, just depression.
That’s how much emotional weight was riding on his performance. They had a mortgage. Private school tuition. Lifestyle expectations. His bonus wasn’t just a number — it dictated their entire life.
Now, that’s an extreme example. But a lot of people are putting themselves through a similar grind. Not for millions in comp, but for their retirement for sure. Maybe a dream of an early retirement, maybe a dream of a second house. Meanwhile, their actual job suffers. Or their relationships. Or their mental health.
And here’s the part most people miss: even if you’re a so-called “passive” investor, it’s never truly passive.
You’re still making decisions: How much in stocks vs. bonds? Which countries? Which sectors? Currency hedged or not? How often do you rebalance? Do you panic in a downturn or stay the course?
Even a passive portfolio reflects active choices. And those choices start to become part of your identity too. When stocks soar, it’s easy to second-guess your decision to reduce risk by holding bonds. Even more frustrating is when both stocks and bonds decline together. In those moments, it’s hard to stay grounded in your original reasoning, especially when it feels like everyone else is making money. That’s because people rarely share their losses, only their wins. It starts to feel personal, which is natural: it’s how we often cope in uncertain situations. And that’s not entirely wrong; your decisions should make sense for you, grounded in your unique circumstances. But there’s also a risk of slipping into a rigid mindset: not out of conviction, but because it’s easier than facing judgment from others, or worse, confronting an uncomfortable reality.
There’s this weird dynamic in personal finance where you have to go deep at first. You need to learn enough to protect yourself. To build a plan. To avoid getting fleeced. But once that plan is in place, ideally you should be able to step back.
Check in once a year. Rebalance when necessary. And focus on everything else in life that matters more than your asset allocation.
But here’s the problem: after doing all that work, learning all those concepts, following all those market narratives… can you actually let go?
I’m not sure you can. Once you’ve opened the door to investing, really opened it, it’s hard to close it again. The investing genie doesn’t go quietly back into the bottle.
It’s important to periodically reassess your journey for many valid reasons. Perhaps you misjudged your risk tolerance. Maybe your life circumstances have shifted: a growing family, a reduced income, or other significant changes. You might have made incorrect assumptions about the components of your portfolio or how they interact.
Sometimes, a course correction is necessary. Even if nothing seems urgent today, the mere possibility of change demands ongoing awareness. So much for the idea of “set-it-and-forget-it,” right?
The real goal might be to cultivate a healthier relationship with personal finance: one that’s truly balanced. Not obsessive, but not neglectful either. A mindset grounded in conviction, yet free from dogma or tribalism. Because at the end of the day, personal finance is just that—personal. It’s your portfolio, your journey. Just don’t let it become your identity.
Maybe that’s the real kind of mental freedom.
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