I sold my car last week.My 2019 Volkswagen GTI. Rabbit Edition. Urano Gray. The car I'd owned for six and a half years. The car that took Jamie and I on countless road trips through Montana, Idaho, Washington, Wyoming, and beyond. The car that "car people" would compliment at gas stations. The car I told myself was an upgrade I deserved. I handed over the keys, watched it drive away, and felt something I didn't expect. Relief. Not sadness. Not regret. Not "what have I done?" Pure, immediate relief. Like I'd been carrying something heavy and finally set it down. But let me back up a sec... In 2019, I traded in my perfectly good 2012 GTI and bought this 2019 model for $28,000. Why? Because I could. Because it was "better." Because after years of driving a very similar 2012 model, I wanted something newer, nicer, and more powerful. It wasn't a status symbol. It wasn't a luxury car. But it was an upgrade I didn't really need. And for six years, I paid for that choice. Not just the car payment (which I paid off after exactly three monthly installments, thank god!). But insurance. Maintenance. Registration. The mental weight of owning something that needed protecting, cleaning, servicing, worrying about. And when Jamie and I moved from Montana to Denver, our car insurance DOUBLED. Just like that. Same cars, different zip code, twice the cost. That's when the math really started bothering me.How much did this "upgrade" actually cost me? Not just in dollars, but in freedom? Fast forward to now. Jamie and I are preparing for our big road trip before Portugal. We're downsizing, simplifying, getting lighter. And in our planning we realized something obvious: We only need one car. We work from home. We live in a walkable neighborhood. We can Lyft or take public transit when needed. There's literally no reason to own two cars except "that's what people do." So I listed the GTI. Sold it to a “car guy” for $21,000. And here's what I got in return:
But more than that? Space to breathe.One less thing tying us to this season of life. One step closer to our Portugal plans. One more intentional choice that says "we're serious about designing our life around freedom, not possessions." I won't lie. There was a moment of "wait, are we sure about this?" Because selling the car felt permanent. Like crossing a line. Like admitting we're actually doing this whole "life redesign" thing, not just talking about it. But that feeling lasted about 30 seconds. Now? I look at our driveway with one car and I feel lighter. Freer. More aligned. Here's what selling my car taught me:
A "need" is only a need if you make it one.
For years, I told myself I needed this car. It was practical. It was reliable. It made sense. But the truth? I just hadn't questioned whether it still served the life I was building. I wonder how many things in your life fall into this same category. Not bad things. Not frivolous things. Just... things you've told yourself you need because you've always had them. Maybe it's the second car sitting in your driveway. Maybe it's the gym membership you're paying for "just in case" even though you haven't gone in months. Maybe it's the bigger house with the extra bedrooms you thought you needed but rarely use. Maybe it's the upgraded phone plan, the premium subscriptions, the storage unit full of stuff you can't quite let go of. None of these things are wrong. But they might be costing you more than money. They might be costing you freedom.Every monthly payment is a commitment. Every possession is something to maintain, protect, insure, worry about. And all of it keeps you tied to the income you need to support it. Here's the thing about choosing freedom:
It starts with one decision.
Not a perfect decision. Not a massive, life-altering decision. Just one intentional choice that says "I'm designing my life around what actually matters." For me, it was selling a car I didn't need. For you, it might be something completely different. But until you start questioning what you've labeled as "needs," you'll never know how much lighter you could feel. So here's my question: What's one thing you're holding onto that might be holding you back?Not because it's bad. Not because you're doing anything wrong. But because it's no longer serving the life you actually want to build. If you're not sure where to start, or if you want help identifying what's really keeping you stuck, that's exactly what my Clarity Call is for. We'll spend 30 minutes reviewing your financial picture, your lifestyle design, and the gap between where you are and where you want to be. Sometimes you just need someone to ask the right questions.
I can't promise you'll walk away ready to sell your car. But I can promise you'll walk away with clarity about what's actually standing between you and the freedom you're craving. Now, hit reply and tell me: What's one thing you've been holding onto that you're starting to question? I read every response, and I'd love to hear from you. Here's to traveling lighter, P.S.I sold the GTI for $21,000. After owning it for 6.5 years, that's only a $7,000 depreciation loss. Not bad for thousands of miles of memories. But you know what feels even better than recovering most of my money? Not having to think about it anymore! P.S.Here's what it looked like, COMPLETELY full somewhere in Wyoming on our way to Denver. Hatchbacks really can do it all. Joe Maddux |
I'm an adventurer and food lover who values time freedom. I retired at 36 and now I teach overworked high-achievers how to design a life they love. Subscribe to my newsletter for a kind and supportive approach to personal finance, small business growth, and early retirement.
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