David's Life

Growing Up, Leaving, and Coming Back

Growing up in Rochester, Minnesota means growing up with two constants: the Mayo Clinic’s global reputation… and winters that could humble even the bravest Midwesterner.

Snowbanks taller than middle schoolers. Icy sidewalks that felt like nature’s Slip ’N Slide. That kind of cold that hits your face and makes you question your life choices.

But Rochester was home. Not flashy, not loud—just steady.

My parents moved here from Marengo, Illinois long before I was born. At the time, it was just a move. Looking back now—after doing some traveling myself—I realize how big that decision really was. My mom took a job at a local school, my dad found work in Rushford, and Minnesota became where our family put down roots.

I was born here. Raised here. Shaped here.

(And yes—spoiler alert—I eventually came back. Life’s boomerang is undefeated.)

The Detour

After high school, I tried college. I sat through lectures, changed my major too many times, and eventually realized I had no real idea what I wanted to do.

Most people take a gap year.

I moved to China.

Why make a small decision when you can make a life‑changing one across the ocean?

The first few years were all about survival and adjustment—learning enough Mandarin to get by, figuring out how to order food without surprises, and navigating a culture that was overwhelming and exhilarating at the same time.

China forces you to grow, whether you’re ready or not.

And it did.

Meeting Winnie

In 2018—four years after I arrived—everything changed.

I was out for a run when I saw someone setting up decorations for an event. Focused. Calm. Somehow doing ten things at once.

That was Winnie.

I don’t remember what I said—probably something awkward—but I remember the feeling. Like I’d just run into someone important… even though we couldn’t speak the same language.

What started as translator-assisted conversations turned into weekends together, then into a life I never planned for when I boarded that plane in 2014.

And in 2023, we did something I didn’t expect:

We moved back to Rochester.

Coming Home (Again)

Coming back after nearly a decade away is strange.

The city is familiar—the neighborhoods, the skyline, the winter wind—but it’s also different. New buildings. New restaurants. New energy.

Rochester didn’t stand still while I was gone.

It grew.

Just like I did.

Some places feel exactly the same. Others are unrecognizable. And experiencing it all with Winnie—someone seeing it for the first time—makes everything feel new again.

Coming back hasn’t just been a return.

It’s been a reintroduction.

Maybe that’s what home really is: something that grows with you, even when you’re halfway around the world.

What Money Looked Like Growing Up

We weren’t struggling, but we weren’t flush with cash either. Bills were paid. Food was on the table. Extras weren’t guaranteed.

A lot of that stability came from my dad, who worked a full-time job and still picked up bar shifts three to five nights a week.

Hard work wasn’t just a value—it was the family brand.

I picked that up early. I sold Pokémon cards, ran lemonade stands, and looked for ways to make money before I really understood it.

My first real job was at Culver’s at 14, making $6.15 an hour.

I felt rich.

My parents told me to save half.

I saved none.

I immediately bought a computer. (Financial literacy? Not yet.)

That pattern continued—better-paying jobs, but the same result: I spent everything.

By 18, I’d moved out, made some questionable financial decisions, and by the time I left for China in 2014, I already had debt.

By 2018, it had grown to $18,000 in credit cards.

Same Habits, Different Country

China changed almost everything about my life.

But not my money habits.

I traveled constantly. Had incredible experiences. Made great memories.

And spent everything I earned.

“Future me” was basically an unpaid intern I assumed would figure it out later.

The Moment Everything Shifted

Then Winnie happened.

At the time, I was earning about $3,000 a month. She was making closer to $550–$600.

We took a trip during National Week—fun, chaotic, unforgettable.

And financially disastrous… for me.

I spent every dollar I had.

When we got back, payday was still a week away.

I had nothing.

Winnie had over $1,500 saved.

That was the moment.

The wake-up call. The realization that I—despite earning more—was the one doing money wrong.

She had discipline. I had excuses.

She had savings. I had debt.

What She Actually Taught Me

Winnie didn’t just teach me to “spend less.”

She taught me to be intentional.

To think about future me. To make decisions on purpose. To stop treating money like it was supposed to disappear.

I still get the urge to buy things.

But now there’s a pause.

Sometimes I talk myself out of it.

Sometimes Winnie does.

(And yes, there’s still a regrettable purchase or two… including a very large sofa in our basement that she hates.)

Where It All Starts

Before finding FIRE, I was a high earner with low awareness. I worked hard, made money, and kept none of it—not because I didn’t care, but because I didn’t know how to think about it.

Meeting Winnie didn’t just change my relationship.

It changed my relationship with money.

And that’s where this story really begins.