the fuck off fund
years of indoctrinated conditioning that says my worth is defined by my productivity so when I decided to pull back and work only 10 hours per week difficult, but my fuck off fund saved me.
I am in inner west London watching the early morning sun throw golden slashes on the raw brick buildings outside my bedroom window. On my way here from Africa on an Emirates flight, a middle-aged Asian woman on the seat across from me (we had one seat separating us) innocently coughed in my direction and now I have a cold.
When I landed I thought I could outrun the cold and jampacked my first two days with meeting friends, seeing private clients and guzzling 1000 mg Vit C potions but yesterday afternoon as my eyes welled with unwarranted tears and my nose ran freely it was clear that my body needed me to slow down.
So I am in bed, my friend’s cat Kaia — whom I am cat-sitting for a week while she is in Portugal until I get to pick up my own cat from his caretakers and move into our new apartment in Forest Row — cuddled up beside me.
It’s the perfect moment to reflect on the past few months. The woman who left the UK nine weeks ago to go to Africa is not the same woman who has returned.
I left with a crippling weight of apathy that had only barely begun to lift weighing down my spirit and bones. Most days felt like I shlepping my human carcass through the motions of modern life. Glimpses and pockets of joy landed briefly and I’d soak them in however fleeting they were.
Only a few weeks earlier had I learned that emotional exhaustion, cynicism and unfulfillment were markers of burnout. In retrospect, I understood that 2023 was when I hit the peak burnout era which caused me to intentionally pull back from work and life commitments.
The obvious result of this was a loss of income. I was working much less than usual, sometimes no more than 10 to 15 hours per week. I was not earning much.
Years of indoctrinated conditioning that our worth is defined by our productivity made the decision difficult, but my fuck off fund saved me. I had spent the past three years accumulating £20,000 into a savings account in case I ever needed to tell the world to fuck off.
Last year I needed to do exactly that.
A fuck off fund is a sum of money about six to twelve months worth of living costs. It’s knowing that you have enough security that you don’t have to sacrifice your financial, mental and physical health to take some time off. It’s your honey pot in case something goes wrong.
You have a boyfriend/boss/parent/flatmate who treats you like crap and you need to leave immediately? That’s fine, you know why? You have a fuck off fund.
You suddenly realize you want to change your trajectory because you figured out your thing in life and you have a plan to go for it? You can, you know why? You have a fuck off fund.
Nobody’s road is bump-free. Those bumps usually cost money, and they can really throw you off track. According to the FED’s most recent survey, 40% of people would struggle to pay for an unexpected £400 expense without selling something or borrowing money. So whether you think of it as an emergency fund, a rainy day account, a financial cushion, or a fuck-off fund (like I do) you need one.
This fund isn’t a convoluted concept, it is your ticket to freedom, trusting in The Universe with more ease, and it’s your insurance when you need to take yourself out of a situation to clear space for the life that’s meant for you.
Time has felt like a funny thing these past three years. Folding in on itself, swallowing me whole, spitting me out months and miles later.
Africa reminded me of something I had lost myself to in the noise of a rapidly changing world that was desperately clanging with distractions in the shape of ‘news’ and ‘information’ too accessible by the devices glued to our hands.
I remembered that nothing is real except that which I choose to place my intention and attention on. Like the old man I met in the cafe said.
“The best thing you can do is make choices about the kind of life you want here and now. Is that a privilege? Sure. That’s the gift you were given. Make use of it.”
It took most of last year, slowly at first; plus the last few months; then all at once, to regain my energy and focus, as I've finally replenished the reserves that were once depleted.
I feel a delicate balance between vulnerability and resilience, a tender triumph over the relentless turmoil that consumed me last year and with each step forward, a renewed sense of strength, knowing what I’ve weathered and how I have emerged stronger on the other side.
I have returned with a restored sense of enthusiasm and courage. To create a life that I truly love and appreciate in this new paradigm. And to help you do it too.
I dislike the lady coughing at you, but like the F-off fund! Ever since I read 'the barefoot investor' (which I will never not recommend) I started creating all these personal funds, it sounds silly but I have 5 and a half. I never considered being 'wealthy' as being part of that 60% that doesn't have to worry about an unexpected $400 bill, but maybe we're doing something right!
Thank you. I’m looking forward to what this year brings with renewed enthusiasm. 🌞