I’ve come to believe something that’s changed how I live: life isn’t really about money or things — it’s about memories. Once that clicks, you start seeing your spending differently. Not just in terms of what you can afford, but in terms of what kind of memories you want to create.
For me, it’s always been travel. In my late twenties, I took my dad on a father–daughter trip to Serbia, where he was born. I paid for first class. We stopped in Austria first, stayed in five-star hotels, and I got to see him in his own world — as a man, not just my dad. That time is etched in my heart. Priceless.

I did something similar for my mum. I took her on the Queen Mary 2 for her 70th birthday. Her mother — my nana — never had the means to travel but used to receive cruise brochures from her wealthy sister. Nana kept them like treasures, and when she passed, she left them to me with her elegant handwriting in the margins. Taking Mum on that cruise felt like honouring her and my grandmother at the same time. We laughed like friends. We lived in the moment. And those moments have stayed with me.
When I sold my company for a seven-figure sum, I splurged. I took the whole family to London, Ireland, and on a road trip around Scotland. We flew business class. I thought the good times would keep coming — so why not? Could I have used that money in a thousand different ways? Definitely. Do I regret it? Not for a second. We explored ancestral towns with my children’s father’s elderly aunt. We heard stories that brought generations to life. Watching my boys connect with their heritage — that’s a different kind of wealth.
But life isn’t a straight line. After COVID, everything changed. Like many business owners, I had to scale everything back. And I’ll be honest — I found it hard. I’d earned good money for many years. Losing that freedom put a lot of pressure on my relationship, and eventually, it ended in divorce.
That season forced me to reevaluate everything. No travel. No more splurges. Not even my beloved 150 bath bombs made the cut. But it also taught me something I didn’t fully understand before: you don’t need money to make memories. You just need to be present.
A shared laugh. A homemade meal. Watching Netflix together with microwave popcorn. Sunshine. A song that makes you dance in the kitchen. Noticing these little things — and really taking them in — is what makes everyday life beautiful again.
That shift changed me. I’m building something new now, from a different place. And I’m more certain than ever that the small moments are the big ones.
In my dad’s final weeks, he spent a lot of time resting in bed. One day, he looked over at a photo of me on the wall and said, “I think of us together a lot — all the wonderful times we had. And when I think of the best times, when we were happiest, it’s not the big things. It’s the little things we did.”
Maybe I knew it all along. But it took the highs and the lows to truly feel it in my bones.
That’s why I care so much about talking to people about life, money, and values. Because money isn’t just financial. It’s emotional. It’s how we create, remember, and connect. And in the end, those moments — big or small — are what we carry with us.
If the business of life is the accumulation of memories, what’s next on your list? Write down five moments you treasure — and five more you want to create. Put them on your wall. Let them remind you what you’re really working for.





