Taking Control
I WAS BORN INTO an upper-middle-class family in Thailand. My dad was a doctor and my mom was a nurse. Both had a profound effect on me—on how I tackled my career, financial issues and life more generally.
I was the oldest of four children and the only girl. My father made sure I was given the same opportunities as my brothers, whether it was education, sports or other extracurricular activities. For him, “because you’re a girl” was never a reason to do or not do something. My father was the first feminist I ever knew—before I even knew what the term meant.
Each of us has our own strategy for coping with life, usually developed early on. I now realize that my strategy was a response to my mother’s behavior. She has ADHD, as well as a personality disorder, but she wasn’t properly diagnosed until a few years ago. Amid my otherwise orderly and privileged upbringing, her behavior was erratic.
My mother frequently lost her temper with those around her, and especially with me when I was young. She was often disorganized and irresponsible. In response, I early on developed a strategy of always maintaining control. Growing up, I played junior competitive tennis. I learned never to let opponents, or anyone else, see my emotions, especially anger. That strategy worked well for me in school, my career and when managing money, even allowing me to retire at age 53. But it came at a cost.
Although my parents made good money, they lived modestly. My father was frugal, always dressing in simple clothes. I remember being turned away by upscale restaurants because my father was in his tennis shorts and sandals. I never saw it bother him. He often shrugged and used the opportunity to teach me never to judge others by how they dressed.
My parents never talked to me about money. Part of it was that they didn’t know much about investing or personal finance. What they knew was to work hard, live frugally and save as much as they could. One investment my parents believed in, however, was education. They were willing to pay and do whatever it took to give me and my brothers the best education.
With my father’s encouragement, I passed the entrance exam for the College of Engineering at Chulalongkorn University—often known simply as Chula—which is Thailand’s best university. When I was admitted in 1983, my class of more than 400 engineering students included just 25 women.
Though females were few, we were treated the same as our male counterparts and judged on our achievements. Chula is where I learned that men and women can collaborate to their mutual benefit and with mutual respect. It would become the standard by which I would later judge my work environment—and I often found myself disappointed.
Coming to America. After I graduated from Chula, I went to work as an industrial engineer in a garment factory and later for the government, where I reviewed machinery, equipment and raw materials imported into Thailand. I quickly realized that I didn’t particularly like the actual job of engineering. My father and I discussed my career. With his support and encouragement, I moved to the U.S. in 1988 to pursue an MBA. That was when I met my first husband, Jeff.
I married Jeff in 1990, six months before graduating from business school. Jeff and I made very little money when we started out. I was employed fulltime at a small mortgage broker, while he was finishing his bachelor’s degree while also working part-time. We split rent and shared a mobile home with my then sister-in-law. We saved as much as we could. After a few years, we had enough for a small down payment and bought a home.
After we purchased the house, I accepted a job as a financial analyst at Associates Financial Services, which later became part of Citigroup. I quickly moved up to senior financial analyst and began managing a team of analysts, all of which brought more income. I maxed out my 401(k) plan and started a college fund as soon as my son was born in 1996. We traded our old car for a new, expensive SUV. The monthly payment was $450, quite high back then.
While my career prospered, my personal life didn’t. Jeff and I separated, and I found myself a single mom. I didn’t get a good lawyer and was intimidated by the divorce process. I just wanted to get it over quickly. I made two crucial mistakes: I waived child support payments and gave up the house, our only big asset. My ex later sold the place at a large profit.
Financially, I was starting over at age 33. I had about $5,000 in cash and $20,000 in my 401(k). I also had a big legal bill and was stuck with a large car payment. I moved into a small one-bedroom apartment with my toddler son. I got rid of the $450 car payment and bought a modest sedan that reduced my payment to $200 a month. I still managed to max out my 401(k) contributions and set aside college savings. Thanks to my father’s example, I’ve always been frugal, so it wasn’t a big deal to cut back on eating out and spending on clothes. I visited garage sales, looking for children's clothes, shoes and furniture. Almost all of my furnishings were used or passed down from friends or relatives.
After my divorce was finalized in 1998, I continued to excel in my career. In fact, I leaned on the office as a haven from the chaos in my personal life. My salary before bonus grew to $75,000. But I put in a lot of hours, sometimes 70 or 80 a week. During budget time, I often worked overnight, while the company paid for a babysitter. After a few years, I was burnt out. Once, when I asked for time off to take my son to a doctor, I was told I had to choose between being a mom and having a career. I took a few months’ break in 2011, living off stock options that I cashed out. Later that year, I got a job as a financial analyst with Countrywide Financial, which was later bought by Bank of America. At $50,000 a year, the salary was lower but the work-life balance was better.
At Countrywide, I faced the harsh reality of gender discrimination. My first inkling: I found out that a male colleague received a year-end bonus, but I didn’t. He had lesser qualifications and less experience, and there was no difference in our performance. I was angry. But as a single mom, I couldn’t afford to cause a ruckus for fear of losing my job.
I was seen as a go-to analyst—but useful only in a supporting role, marginalized as the “smart Asian woman with an accent.” My work contributions were ignored or claimed by my manager as his own. I often wasn’t invited to important meetings with senior managers and executives, even when I did most or all the work. I was the only female analyst in the group and was often excluded from social and team-building events because my male manager was “uncomfortable.” I was subjected to demeaning and sexually harassing comments.
Near the end of my career, things got better: I was fortunate to work for excellent managers who treated men and women equally. While I eventually thrived and was even promoted to vice president of credit risk management before retiring in 2018, no review of my money journey would be complete without mentioning the unfair and unequal treatment I received. It’s a part of too many stories for women and minorities. That I was ultimately successful doesn’t excuse a system that continues to discriminate.
Meeting Jim. After four years as a single mom, my girlfriends encouraged me to try online dating. Being frugal, I wasn’t about to pay a year’s subscription for something I wasn’t sure I’d use. I skeptically signed up for a free 30-day trial. Just before the trial period ended, Jim and I connected online. I laughed so hard at his profile that I had to meet him. It was January 2002.
As it turned out, he was also funny in person, in part because of his take-nothing-too-seriously attitude. He was a divorced single dad with a son 11 months older than my son. After dating for more than a year, we bought a modest house in May 2003 and moved in together. We were married a few months later.
We didn’t know how exactly to merge our two families, but we agreed on some basic principles. We set out to live within our means, save as much as possible, and focus on providing the boys with an excellent education. We began a period of minimizing expenses and maximizing savings. It was more difficult for Jim than for me. I was already used to a frugal lifestyle. I didn’t mind packing my own and the boys’ lunches, and cooking at home every evening. Jim had a harder time resisting the lure of restaurants. We ended up compromising. We would dine out if I could find a discount coupon or we’d go to cheaper, more authentic hole-in-the-wall restaurants.
Shortly after we got married, I took over the family finances. We opened a joint checking account and completely merged our financial lives. Jim had $17,000 in credit card debt, but his car was paid off. I still had car payments but no credit card debt. My first priority was to pay off Jim’s card debt. Next would be my auto loan. After that was paid off, we made extra payments every month on the mortgage. I never liked being in debt. Owing money to others gives them control over you—something I abhor.
Being in the financial services industry, especially credit risk management, I knew the importance of credit scores. Having excellent scores gave us the power to negotiate and to choose the best financial products with the lowest costs. I managed to get Jim’s and my credit scores up to 800-plus, out of a possible 850. They’ve remained there ever since. When we refinanced our mortgage, I was able to get a very low rate. We then used the extra savings to pay off our mortgage even faster.
Because I had taken a salary cut and Jim had a modest teacher’s salary, our combined gross income was under six figures. To afford a home, our total mortgage payment had to be right at the maximum recommended 28% of income. I was concerned about committing to a house purchase. Having been a single mom for almost five years and having just recovered financially, I was wary of taking on more debt. I even suggested that we could all move into Jim’s rented townhome, but Jim disagreed.
Being a teacher, he was more aware of the better schools in the area. We settled on a modest house in a great school district. It was less expensive than most nearby homes because the house had never been upgraded and, indeed, still had the original 30-year-old central air-conditioning system.
Jim and I have different spending habits. I comparison shop before committing to buy, while Jim is more impulsive. Still, we share similar outlooks when it comes to living simply. Neither of us insisted on spending a lot of money to renovate the house. We liked the old-fashioned wood cabinets, the original big-tiled Spanish floor and the simple white-tiled bathroom. They were functional, good quality and built to last.
We didn’t spend a lot of money on home decor. All our furniture was secondhand, either passed on to us by relatives or found at garage sales, thrift stores and even on the sidewalk on bulk trash pickup days. We bought an entire living room sofa suite, including a couch and full chaise lounge, for $300 at a garage sale. The boys’ bedroom furniture set was grabbed from the sidewalk when a neighbor put out his child’s like-new furniture.
While we didn’t devote much money to home decor, we did spend to make the house more energy efficient. We installed attic insulation ourselves. The house came with a pool and hot tub. It was already beaten up and needed a lot of year-round maintenance for just two or three months’ use. We had the pool and hot tub filled in, installing a brick patio instead. Between the insulation and pool elimination, which cost $10,000 all told, we saved $200 to $250 in energy bills every month. We also made a few other updates to the house—and we did them as a family. We installed our own flooring. The boys built shelves for their rooms.
While our combined income wasn’t huge, our savings rate was. The Great Recession of 2008-09 offered a wonderful investment opportunity, and we took full advantage by maxing out our retirement plans and choosing all stock funds. While Jim didn’t get paid much as a teacher, his employer match was generous. We also maxed out our contributions to Roth IRAs and invested in 529 plans for the boys’ college costs. During this time, I bought a small rental property at a foreclosure auction with my youngest brother. That continues to provide us with a modest rental income.
When I got a raise or a bonus, or Jim earned extra from teaching summer school, we socked away the money, instead of splurging on, say, a new car or new TV. But we also didn’t starve ourselves or skip family vacations. If Jim worked during the summer, we used some of the money to take a vacation. I knew it was inexpensive to travel in Thailand and the rest of Southeast Asia, especially if we didn’t stay at tourist resorts. We would visit my parents in Thailand and then explore the region, visiting Vietnam, Cambodia, Singapore, Malaysia and elsewhere.
Even though we were raised half a world apart, Jim and I grew up with similar values. Both our families invested in education, something we also wanted to do for our boys. We were lucky that the boys got the message that school matters and that it would pay off later. My son got a full academic scholarship to university and even a small stipend. As a result, we only had to cover his living expenses, which were about $6,000 a year. That allowed us to help him in other ways on his path to becoming an actuary.
Meanwhile, when Jim went through his divorce, he opted to leave his investment accounts to his ex-wife to help pay for his son’s future college tuition. That money grew over 18 years and was enough to cover most of the tuition at a private university. Jim’s son is now a software engineer. When the boys graduated, we still had more than $60,000 in college savings accounts. We gave some to the boys as a gift, while keeping the rest in 529 accounts. We plan to use it for our own tuition, as we return to graduate school, and also hope one day to pass some of it on to our future grandchildren.
Arriving early. In 2016, two years after our sons headed to college, we realized that it was a seller’s housing market in our area. Our excellent school district now gave us a second benefit. Businesses and their executives were moving to Dallas in droves, and that growth drove property prices to record levels. Our house, which we’d bought in 2003 for $200,000, sold for $340,000. After paying off the mortgage, we netted close to $240,000. We bought a smaller townhome for cash, leaving us mortgage-free just 13 years after we first bought a house together.
And with that, we were on the cusp of financial independence. After our sons graduated college, Jim and I retired at ages 57 and 53, respectively. Though it wasn’t our goal to retire early, we got there in 2018, just 15 years after we married. We quit our jobs, rented out our townhome and moved to Spain for what turned out to be three years. We’re now back in the States, happy to be closer to our sons. Because of our financial control in the past, we have power today—the power of choice.
My personal strategy of maximizing control has served me well, at least financially, but it came at a cost. My constant focus on money caused a lot of self-induced stress. For instance, when we were on vacation, I worried about staying within our budget. I didn’t want to do certain activities if they cost too much. I sometimes carried a small notebook, recording every expense. Along the way, I robbed myself of some of the vacation’s enjoyment.
I tend to see things in black and white, looking for what I can control. Jim likes to point out the gray areas—the absurdity of life and the illusion that we can control it. He makes me look up from my tallying notebook to take in the beautiful view or to laugh at it all. With Jim, I’ve learned to let things go when they don't go my way.
It didn’t happen overnight. Instead, it’s taken getting older and having more experience, combined with more than 20 years with Jim. I have slowly learned to embrace ambiguity—the grayness of life. Jim and I have an inside joke. In tennis, you shouldn’t hold the racquet too tightly, especially between points, or you may get hand cramps. We often tell each other to “loosen the grip” when either of us is wound up by a situation. As I’ve discovered, loosening the grip means less stress—and greater freedom to just be.
Jiab Wasserman, MBA, RICP®, has lived in Thailand, the U.S. and Spain. She spent the bulk of her career with financial services companies, eventually becoming vice president of credit risk management at Bank of America, before retiring in 2018. Head to Linktree to learn more about Jiab, and also check out her earlier articles.
I was the oldest of four children and the only girl. My father made sure I was given the same opportunities as my brothers, whether it was education, sports or other extracurricular activities. For him, “because you’re a girl” was never a reason to do or not do something. My father was the first feminist I ever knew—before I even knew what the term meant.
Each of us has our own strategy for coping with life, usually developed early on. I now realize that my strategy was a response to my mother’s behavior. She has ADHD, as well as a personality disorder, but she wasn’t properly diagnosed until a few years ago. Amid my otherwise orderly and privileged upbringing, her behavior was erratic.
My mother frequently lost her temper with those around her, and especially with me when I was young. She was often disorganized and irresponsible. In response, I early on developed a strategy of always maintaining control. Growing up, I played junior competitive tennis. I learned never to let opponents, or anyone else, see my emotions, especially anger. That strategy worked well for me in school, my career and when managing money, even allowing me to retire at age 53. But it came at a cost.Although my parents made good money, they lived modestly. My father was frugal, always dressing in simple clothes. I remember being turned away by upscale restaurants because my father was in his tennis shorts and sandals. I never saw it bother him. He often shrugged and used the opportunity to teach me never to judge others by how they dressed.
My parents never talked to me about money. Part of it was that they didn’t know much about investing or personal finance. What they knew was to work hard, live frugally and save as much as they could. One investment my parents believed in, however, was education. They were willing to pay and do whatever it took to give me and my brothers the best education.
With my father’s encouragement, I passed the entrance exam for the College of Engineering at Chulalongkorn University—often known simply as Chula—which is Thailand’s best university. When I was admitted in 1983, my class of more than 400 engineering students included just 25 women.
Though females were few, we were treated the same as our male counterparts and judged on our achievements. Chula is where I learned that men and women can collaborate to their mutual benefit and with mutual respect. It would become the standard by which I would later judge my work environment—and I often found myself disappointed.
Coming to America. After I graduated from Chula, I went to work as an industrial engineer in a garment factory and later for the government, where I reviewed machinery, equipment and raw materials imported into Thailand. I quickly realized that I didn’t particularly like the actual job of engineering. My father and I discussed my career. With his support and encouragement, I moved to the U.S. in 1988 to pursue an MBA. That was when I met my first husband, Jeff.
I married Jeff in 1990, six months before graduating from business school. Jeff and I made very little money when we started out. I was employed fulltime at a small mortgage broker, while he was finishing his bachelor’s degree while also working part-time. We split rent and shared a mobile home with my then sister-in-law. We saved as much as we could. After a few years, we had enough for a small down payment and bought a home.
After we purchased the house, I accepted a job as a financial analyst at Associates Financial Services, which later became part of Citigroup. I quickly moved up to senior financial analyst and began managing a team of analysts, all of which brought more income. I maxed out my 401(k) plan and started a college fund as soon as my son was born in 1996. We traded our old car for a new, expensive SUV. The monthly payment was $450, quite high back then.
While my career prospered, my personal life didn’t. Jeff and I separated, and I found myself a single mom. I didn’t get a good lawyer and was intimidated by the divorce process. I just wanted to get it over quickly. I made two crucial mistakes: I waived child support payments and gave up the house, our only big asset. My ex later sold the place at a large profit.
Financially, I was starting over at age 33. I had about $5,000 in cash and $20,000 in my 401(k). I also had a big legal bill and was stuck with a large car payment. I moved into a small one-bedroom apartment with my toddler son. I got rid of the $450 car payment and bought a modest sedan that reduced my payment to $200 a month. I still managed to max out my 401(k) contributions and set aside college savings. Thanks to my father’s example, I’ve always been frugal, so it wasn’t a big deal to cut back on eating out and spending on clothes. I visited garage sales, looking for children's clothes, shoes and furniture. Almost all of my furnishings were used or passed down from friends or relatives.
After my divorce was finalized in 1998, I continued to excel in my career. In fact, I leaned on the office as a haven from the chaos in my personal life. My salary before bonus grew to $75,000. But I put in a lot of hours, sometimes 70 or 80 a week. During budget time, I often worked overnight, while the company paid for a babysitter. After a few years, I was burnt out. Once, when I asked for time off to take my son to a doctor, I was told I had to choose between being a mom and having a career. I took a few months’ break in 2011, living off stock options that I cashed out. Later that year, I got a job as a financial analyst with Countrywide Financial, which was later bought by Bank of America. At $50,000 a year, the salary was lower but the work-life balance was better.
At Countrywide, I faced the harsh reality of gender discrimination. My first inkling: I found out that a male colleague received a year-end bonus, but I didn’t. He had lesser qualifications and less experience, and there was no difference in our performance. I was angry. But as a single mom, I couldn’t afford to cause a ruckus for fear of losing my job.
I was seen as a go-to analyst—but useful only in a supporting role, marginalized as the “smart Asian woman with an accent.” My work contributions were ignored or claimed by my manager as his own. I often wasn’t invited to important meetings with senior managers and executives, even when I did most or all the work. I was the only female analyst in the group and was often excluded from social and team-building events because my male manager was “uncomfortable.” I was subjected to demeaning and sexually harassing comments.
Near the end of my career, things got better: I was fortunate to work for excellent managers who treated men and women equally. While I eventually thrived and was even promoted to vice president of credit risk management before retiring in 2018, no review of my money journey would be complete without mentioning the unfair and unequal treatment I received. It’s a part of too many stories for women and minorities. That I was ultimately successful doesn’t excuse a system that continues to discriminate.
Meeting Jim. After four years as a single mom, my girlfriends encouraged me to try online dating. Being frugal, I wasn’t about to pay a year’s subscription for something I wasn’t sure I’d use. I skeptically signed up for a free 30-day trial. Just before the trial period ended, Jim and I connected online. I laughed so hard at his profile that I had to meet him. It was January 2002.
As it turned out, he was also funny in person, in part because of his take-nothing-too-seriously attitude. He was a divorced single dad with a son 11 months older than my son. After dating for more than a year, we bought a modest house in May 2003 and moved in together. We were married a few months later.
We didn’t know how exactly to merge our two families, but we agreed on some basic principles. We set out to live within our means, save as much as possible, and focus on providing the boys with an excellent education. We began a period of minimizing expenses and maximizing savings. It was more difficult for Jim than for me. I was already used to a frugal lifestyle. I didn’t mind packing my own and the boys’ lunches, and cooking at home every evening. Jim had a harder time resisting the lure of restaurants. We ended up compromising. We would dine out if I could find a discount coupon or we’d go to cheaper, more authentic hole-in-the-wall restaurants.
Shortly after we got married, I took over the family finances. We opened a joint checking account and completely merged our financial lives. Jim had $17,000 in credit card debt, but his car was paid off. I still had car payments but no credit card debt. My first priority was to pay off Jim’s card debt. Next would be my auto loan. After that was paid off, we made extra payments every month on the mortgage. I never liked being in debt. Owing money to others gives them control over you—something I abhor.
Being in the financial services industry, especially credit risk management, I knew the importance of credit scores. Having excellent scores gave us the power to negotiate and to choose the best financial products with the lowest costs. I managed to get Jim’s and my credit scores up to 800-plus, out of a possible 850. They’ve remained there ever since. When we refinanced our mortgage, I was able to get a very low rate. We then used the extra savings to pay off our mortgage even faster.
Because I had taken a salary cut and Jim had a modest teacher’s salary, our combined gross income was under six figures. To afford a home, our total mortgage payment had to be right at the maximum recommended 28% of income. I was concerned about committing to a house purchase. Having been a single mom for almost five years and having just recovered financially, I was wary of taking on more debt. I even suggested that we could all move into Jim’s rented townhome, but Jim disagreed.
Being a teacher, he was more aware of the better schools in the area. We settled on a modest house in a great school district. It was less expensive than most nearby homes because the house had never been upgraded and, indeed, still had the original 30-year-old central air-conditioning system.
Jim and I have different spending habits. I comparison shop before committing to buy, while Jim is more impulsive. Still, we share similar outlooks when it comes to living simply. Neither of us insisted on spending a lot of money to renovate the house. We liked the old-fashioned wood cabinets, the original big-tiled Spanish floor and the simple white-tiled bathroom. They were functional, good quality and built to last.
We didn’t spend a lot of money on home decor. All our furniture was secondhand, either passed on to us by relatives or found at garage sales, thrift stores and even on the sidewalk on bulk trash pickup days. We bought an entire living room sofa suite, including a couch and full chaise lounge, for $300 at a garage sale. The boys’ bedroom furniture set was grabbed from the sidewalk when a neighbor put out his child’s like-new furniture.
While we didn’t devote much money to home decor, we did spend to make the house more energy efficient. We installed attic insulation ourselves. The house came with a pool and hot tub. It was already beaten up and needed a lot of year-round maintenance for just two or three months’ use. We had the pool and hot tub filled in, installing a brick patio instead. Between the insulation and pool elimination, which cost $10,000 all told, we saved $200 to $250 in energy bills every month. We also made a few other updates to the house—and we did them as a family. We installed our own flooring. The boys built shelves for their rooms.
While our combined income wasn’t huge, our savings rate was. The Great Recession of 2008-09 offered a wonderful investment opportunity, and we took full advantage by maxing out our retirement plans and choosing all stock funds. While Jim didn’t get paid much as a teacher, his employer match was generous. We also maxed out our contributions to Roth IRAs and invested in 529 plans for the boys’ college costs. During this time, I bought a small rental property at a foreclosure auction with my youngest brother. That continues to provide us with a modest rental income.
When I got a raise or a bonus, or Jim earned extra from teaching summer school, we socked away the money, instead of splurging on, say, a new car or new TV. But we also didn’t starve ourselves or skip family vacations. If Jim worked during the summer, we used some of the money to take a vacation. I knew it was inexpensive to travel in Thailand and the rest of Southeast Asia, especially if we didn’t stay at tourist resorts. We would visit my parents in Thailand and then explore the region, visiting Vietnam, Cambodia, Singapore, Malaysia and elsewhere.
Even though we were raised half a world apart, Jim and I grew up with similar values. Both our families invested in education, something we also wanted to do for our boys. We were lucky that the boys got the message that school matters and that it would pay off later. My son got a full academic scholarship to university and even a small stipend. As a result, we only had to cover his living expenses, which were about $6,000 a year. That allowed us to help him in other ways on his path to becoming an actuary.
Meanwhile, when Jim went through his divorce, he opted to leave his investment accounts to his ex-wife to help pay for his son’s future college tuition. That money grew over 18 years and was enough to cover most of the tuition at a private university. Jim’s son is now a software engineer. When the boys graduated, we still had more than $60,000 in college savings accounts. We gave some to the boys as a gift, while keeping the rest in 529 accounts. We plan to use it for our own tuition, as we return to graduate school, and also hope one day to pass some of it on to our future grandchildren.
Arriving early. In 2016, two years after our sons headed to college, we realized that it was a seller’s housing market in our area. Our excellent school district now gave us a second benefit. Businesses and their executives were moving to Dallas in droves, and that growth drove property prices to record levels. Our house, which we’d bought in 2003 for $200,000, sold for $340,000. After paying off the mortgage, we netted close to $240,000. We bought a smaller townhome for cash, leaving us mortgage-free just 13 years after we first bought a house together.
And with that, we were on the cusp of financial independence. After our sons graduated college, Jim and I retired at ages 57 and 53, respectively. Though it wasn’t our goal to retire early, we got there in 2018, just 15 years after we married. We quit our jobs, rented out our townhome and moved to Spain for what turned out to be three years. We’re now back in the States, happy to be closer to our sons. Because of our financial control in the past, we have power today—the power of choice.
My personal strategy of maximizing control has served me well, at least financially, but it came at a cost. My constant focus on money caused a lot of self-induced stress. For instance, when we were on vacation, I worried about staying within our budget. I didn’t want to do certain activities if they cost too much. I sometimes carried a small notebook, recording every expense. Along the way, I robbed myself of some of the vacation’s enjoyment.
I tend to see things in black and white, looking for what I can control. Jim likes to point out the gray areas—the absurdity of life and the illusion that we can control it. He makes me look up from my tallying notebook to take in the beautiful view or to laugh at it all. With Jim, I’ve learned to let things go when they don't go my way.
It didn’t happen overnight. Instead, it’s taken getting older and having more experience, combined with more than 20 years with Jim. I have slowly learned to embrace ambiguity—the grayness of life. Jim and I have an inside joke. In tennis, you shouldn’t hold the racquet too tightly, especially between points, or you may get hand cramps. We often tell each other to “loosen the grip” when either of us is wound up by a situation. As I’ve discovered, loosening the grip means less stress—and greater freedom to just be.
Jiab Wasserman, MBA, RICP®, has lived in Thailand, the U.S. and Spain. She spent the bulk of her career with financial services companies, eventually becoming vice president of credit risk management at Bank of America, before retiring in 2018. Head to Linktree to learn more about Jiab, and also check out her earlier articles.The post Taking Control appeared first on HumbleDollar.
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