TL
R: I’ve essentially reached my minimum FIRE number at 54. Why don’t I feel more excited?
In my 30s, I had a serious health issue. I survived, obviously, but it changed my outlook. At the time we had two young kids, and it forced me to think hard about what would happen if I wasn’t around. That experience pushed me to set a goal of being able to retire by 55. I figured frugality was the best way to provide for my family if **** happened — and if it didn’t, having a lot of retirement savings would be a pretty favorable outcome.
My wife and I were always savers and generally debt-averse, but after that we doubled down. We stayed in our first house, drive older cars (currently a 2012 CR-V and a ’93 F-150 are the daily drivers), buy used when it makes sense, and have kept lifestyle inflation in check. We do have a couple of indulgences — a woodstove-heated 1970s cabin in the mountains and a restored 1976 Monte Carlo — but overall we’ve lived pretty modestly.
We’re essentially debt-free now and nearly done cash-flowing our youngest child’s college. My wife is a civil servant, and I run a nonprofit recovery community center that I started 10 years ago. We’ve never made huge salaries, but through steady saving and investing we’ve reached the point where one of us could retire now — and both of us could likely retire within 2–3 years while maintaining our current lifestyle.
So here’s the part I didn’t expect:
I’ve basically reached the minimum number I was aiming for… and I’m not particularly excited.
No fireworks. No big emotional payoff. Just… okay.
Is this what “One More Year” syndrome looks like? Or is this something else?