Why I'll Never Bank on Retirement

(And Why I Think You Shouldn't Either)

Mar 21, 2025

I don’t like the word believe. Belief leaves room for doubt, for wavering, for keeping one foot out the door just in case. I don’t believe I can reclaim my dreams.

I know I can.

And I have. I am living proof—every single day—that it is not too late, you are not too old, and your dream is not too far gone. This is not theory. This is not motivational fluff. This is experience.

Years ago, I made a huge leap of faith. I moved to a new city, fully expecting the sale of my house to fund my retirement. But that sale never happened. I lost what I thought was my safety net. And in that moment, I had a choice—fold, or figure it out.

I had to make a life with what I had. And what I had was art.

Everyone said it wasn’t possible. "You can’t make a living selling your art." "You’ll starve." "It’s too late." But I didn’t have time for those voices—not theirs, and not the ones in my own head. My back was against the wall, and I chose to plant my flag right there.

I poured everything I had into learning how to sell my work online. I took courses. Workshops. Watched videos. Tried and failed and tried again. And slowly—doggedly—I made a life. Not a conventional life. Not a balanced, tidy, social-norm kind of life. But my life. A creative, sustaining, soul-driven life.

And oh, how I wish there had been a "Monica" back then. Someone who could say: You’re not crazy. You’re just carving a new path. Here’s what it takes. Here’s how it’s done.

As I look back over the last four years, I can see how my art—and my life—were deeply impacted by the quiet, gentle support of people I never even knew before I began reclaiming my dreams. They bought the art, yes—but they also became my champions. They wanted me to succeed.

Midway through this journey, one supporter posted gleefully on Facebook that her painting had arrived via UPS. She couldn’t wait to show it off to her friends. Naturally, I felt a whole wave of emotions—humbled, grateful—but mostly, I realized: my success brought her joy.

That’s when I really got it. They didn’t just love the art. They loved the story. They were part of it. They were rooting for me. And when I saw that clearly, I doubled down—more paintings, more posts, more connection. More sales. More community.

I can only imagine what life would look like now if I’d been bold enough to plant my flag many years ago... but regret doesn’t fit into my life anymore, so I don’t spend much time there.

Instead, I just say this: I’m so grateful I lost my real estate investment. That loss became like jet fuel—propelling me in a direction I never expected, into unfamiliar territory. And still, I leapt.

We live in a world that sends mixed messages: “Follow your dreams… but be realistic.” “You’re never too old… but also, shouldn’t you be winding down?” “Live big… but not too big.” It’s confusing, contradictory, and exhausting.

But here’s what I’ve come to know:

Those mixed messages only serve the part of us that wants to stay stuck. They feed our fear, our self-doubt, our hesitancy to go all in.

But I’m done hedging. I’ve planted my flag.

I’m not here to cover all the angles or debate every what-if. I’m here to say this:

You can reclaim your dreams.

Not by waiting for the world to validate them. Not by making them smaller. Not by asking for permission.

But by deciding. By knowing. By moving—even when you're not sure exactly where it will lead.

Faith isn’t passive. It’s not a wish. It’s a knowing. And when you pair that knowing with even the smallest action, things shift. Doors open. The path clears. The life that once felt far away begins to move closer.

So here’s your invitation: Stop hedging. Stop bargaining with your dream. Stop waiting to be picked.

Pick yourself. Plant your flag. And start reclaiming what’s already yours.

Because what do you really have to lose? Nothing—except the life that’s still waiting for you.

What do you think is standing in your way?

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