I was running along the banks in Boston, leftover snow crunching under my feet. Cold. Dry. But there was light. I was there on a college tour with Caroline. And something hit me mid-stride: I sometimes feel frozen.  This is a turning point.  An ending, yes, but also a brand new beginning. Previously, we attended a rehearsal for Cambridge Common Voices. The energy in that room — voices blending, harmonies swelling — was electric. The kids loved having Caroline there. And watch

New Canaan, CT Men's Club What I Told Men in New Canaan About Their Wives and Money While everyone knows there are two certainties in life: death and taxes. There's a third topic most couples hate discussing even more. Money. Tuesday, I spoke to my dad's men's club  (after my snowy run in Old Greenwich) —a room full of retired guys who've spent decades building portfolios. The topic?  How to talk to your partner about the stock market and money. I started with a question: Wha

early mornin' bacon experience A $2 savings on bacon taught me more about wealth than most finance books. Tuesday morning, I was unpacking my Walmart grocery delivery. Bacon. The microwave-ready kind. $7.98 delivered to my door. At Publix? Same bacon is $10. They pay premium rent.  Premium operating costs.  Premium prices. But here's what stopped me mid-unpack: The driver who brought my groceries earns maybe $10-15/hr with tips. No leverage. Paid by the hour. Trading time for

Last year, Kiki and I stood at the top of Tower Three  (a Double Black Diamond run at Jackson Hole). The run looked terrifying — steep drops, trees, rocks, no easy way down. We could've taken the groomed trail. The safe route. Instead, we pointed our skis downhill and went. That's how I've come to see most of life's big choices. Ten years ago, I sat down one night and drew something (A Decision Tree) that quietly shifted everything. Just two possible trajectories on a piece o

My husband told me to go f .. figure it out. I was in Houston. Three young kids. Money in the bank. And I was paralyzed with anxiety about whether I would have enough. On paper, I had nothing to worry about. But in my head, I was back in my childhood crappy Beverly Hills apartment, watching my mom do nothing about her financial future. Next week I'm speaking to my dad's men's club in New Canaan. (Just got postponed due to weather to Feb 10th! ) Topic: How to talk to your wif

My biggest teacher was my mom's checkbook. At 15, I was balancing her checkbook in our tiny Beverly Hills apartment. Watching her fall for "buy now, pay later" schemes. Seeing the stress she tried to hide. She never sat me down and said, "Let me teach you about money." But she taught me everything. I learned that credit cards aren't free money. I learned that pretending to be fine doesn't make the bills disappear. I learned that financial independence wasn't optional—it was s

Patio at Beverly Hills High School (1998) Life Yearbook signing. Harsh? Maybe. But hear me out. I recently read 𝘐'𝘮 𝘎𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘔𝘺 𝘔𝘰𝘮 𝘋𝘪𝘦𝘥 by Jennette McCurdy — a raw, honest look at trauma, control, and silence behind closed doors. It made me reflect on my own uncomfortable truth. The custody battles. The power struggles. The courts. Unlike Jennette, I fought back — a lot — with my single mom. Where did that independence come from? At a young age, my mom gave me sma

What I’d Tell My 23-Year-Old Self About Money — and Climbing Mountains Greetings from Zermatt. The last time I stood here, I was in college. Same mountains. Same views. Completely different lens. Back then, I thought success was about earning altitude fast. Wall Street. Long hours. Steep climbs. No looking down. What I didn’t understand yet: Work isn’t just about earning — it’s about training for the next ascent. Here’s what the mountain (and money) taught me over 30 years: ⸻

Homecoming ( guys dress up as cheerleaders, cheerleaders dress up as football players.) Not rich in money. Rich in perspective. We lived in a crappy apartment in Beverly Hills.  Just so my mom could feel rich.  Just so I could go to Beverly Hills 90210  While classmates drove BMWs, I walked to school.  At 15, I was balancing my mom's checkbook,  watching her fall for "buy now, pay later" scheme.  That Circuit City TV? $19 a month for 5 years on a $700 purchase. While I didn’t