Everything has a subscription or a hidden fee.

Having fun costs money in most cases. If you want to watch television, there’s streaming or cable. To stay connected, there’s Wi-Fi, a phone bill and an internet bill. Even things we think of as free usually come with some kind of cost attached.

The outdoors is free, but depending on where you want to explore, you may need transportation, gas, a flight or gear. Even going for a local walk can mean investing in a comfortable pair of shoes, hydration and something to fuel you along the way.

Going out with friends comes with its own costs. Drinks, dinner, coffee, tickets, parking, rideshares and cover charges can add up quickly. The grander the experience—and often the more “post-worthy” it is—the higher the bill tends to be. There can be an unspoken surcharge attached to making a night feel memorable, aesthetic or worth sharing online. None of that means the experience isn’t worth having, but it does make me more aware of how easily socializing and spending can become intertwined.

The larger your circle of family and friends, the more celebrations come with it too. Birthdays, weddings, baby showers, graduations, Christmas gifts and other occasions can become their own category of spending. One gift may not seem like much, but over the course of a year those expenses can stack up quickly, especially when several events happen close together. Relationships are worth investing in, but even generosity has to fit somewhere in the budget.

There’s almost always something to buy.

Social media only adds to it. Our feeds thrive on fear of missing out and keeping up with the Joneses. Even if you don’t particularly care about either, it’s difficult to avoid the constant advertising. Everything seems to be telling you that you need another product, another upgrade or another experience. Something about your life could be easier, prettier, healthier or more exciting if you would just buy this one thing.

And I don’t knock businesses for selling.

I’m a writer. I sell books, although probably not as aggressively as I could. I understand that businesses need customers. Almost everything these days is competing for some combination of our time, attention and money.

The older I get, the more I understand why people say time is money. To me, one of the greatest forms of wealth is freedom over your own time. That doesn’t mean wealthy people don’t work. Many of them work incredibly hard. My personal idea of wealth has just become less about how many things someone can afford and more about how much control they have over what they do with their days.

That realization has also made me think differently about consumption.

I’m beginning to understand the value of less being more. I don’t need every outfit advertised by a brand I like. I’ve realized that food cooked at home is often not only cheaper, but healthier, easier for me to stay in shape with and, many times, tastier. Working out at home or outside can be just as productive for me as going to a gym. Convenience has value, but so does learning when I’m paying extra for something I could reasonably do myself.

Budgeting has also become less optional in my mind.

At the same time, I understand that budgeting alone doesn’t magically make someone financially secure. It can be difficult to save or feel like you’re getting ahead when so many people are living paycheck to paycheck. There’s only so much you can cut when necessities already take up most of what you earn.

I know that personally.

I lived at home with my parents until I was 30 and didn’t move out until I got married. Living at home gave me opportunities to save and avoid some of the expenses that come with being completely on your own, but even then, building financial security wasn’t always simple.

Saving a few hundred or even a few thousand dollars can take time. Then a car repair, medical bill, move or some other unexpected expense can make months of progress feel like it disappeared overnight.

That’s something I think about whenever people say someone should “just save more.”

Sometimes there are spending habits that need to change. Sometimes we genuinely make bad financial decisions. I know I have.

But sometimes the math is simply tight.

Financial literacy can help us make better decisions with what we have, but it doesn’t suddenly make housing, transportation, groceries, healthcare or everyday life inexpensive.

Another part of financial literacy I’ve only recently started exploring is investing and passive income.

For a long time, money felt mostly like something you earned, spent and hopefully managed to save. Learning about investing has started to change the way I think about that. I’m beginning to understand the idea of making money work for you instead of relying entirely on the hours you personally put in.

I’m still early in that journey and have a lot to learn. Investing, compound growth and the different ways people create passive income can feel overwhelming when you first start trying to understand them. At the same time, I find the concept fascinating because it connects directly to my personal definition of wealth: having more freedom over your time.

I also don’t think passive income means doing nothing or discovering some magical way to get rich overnight. Most opportunities still require money, effort, patience, knowledge or some combination of all four. For me, it’s another area I want to understand better as I become more intentional about my financial future.

Unfortunately, I don’t think life is going to suddenly become cheaper or easier to navigate financially. That makes these lessons especially important as I think about larger purchases and long-term decisions—whether I’m searching for a car, thinking about what I want my housing situation to look like or deciding what is actually worth spending my money on.

Financial considerations have even shaped some of my biggest life decisions.

There are milestones I’ve delayed or spent more time thinking through because I understand that they come with long-term financial consequences. One of those decisions is whether I want biological children of my own. There are personal and emotional factors involved in that question, but I’d be lying if I said the financial cost of raising a child doesn’t factor into how seriously I think about it.

The more financially aware I become, the harder it is for me to separate major life choices from the practical realities attached to them. A car, a home, children, travel or even where you choose to live can affect your finances for years.

I don’t necessarily see that awareness as pessimistic. For me, it’s part of learning to make decisions with my eyes open.

Financial literacy has also required me to look backward.

I’ve made financial mistakes. Instead of constantly beating myself up over them, I’m trying to learn from them and use them as data. A mistake can tell me what I underestimated, what I didn’t understand at the time and what I should do differently the next time I’m faced with a similar decision.

Failure, in that sense, can become a collection of lessons and future best practices.

I’m still building my financial literacy. I don’t consider myself an expert, and maybe that’s part of why I’ve become so interested in it. The more I understand, the more I notice how money influences everyday decisions that I previously barely thought about.

It changes the way I see myself as a consumer.

In some ways, I’ve become more critical. I question whether I actually need something, whether convenience is worth its price and whether something is improving my life or simply being marketed to me as if it will.

In other ways, I’ve become less cynical.

I understand why people buy things they don’t necessarily need. We live in a world constantly designed to convince us that something is missing. I’ve fallen for it too.

I also understand that spending isn’t always about mindless consumerism. Sometimes it comes from wanting experiences, maintaining relationships, celebrating people we love, taking care of ourselves or trying to build the kind of life we imagined for ourselves.

For me, financial literacy isn’t becoming someone who never spends money or never enjoys what money can buy. It’s learning to recognize the difference between what I value, what I can realistically afford and what I’m simply being encouraged to want.

It’s also starting to understand that money can do more than buy things. It can provide stability, create options and, if handled wisely over time, potentially give you more control over one of the few things you can never get back: your time.

More than anything, it’s learning to recognize when I’m making the decision—and when something else is making the decision for me.