About Money Advice

Most of my biggest money mistakes happened because I let people with less money than me make financial decisions on my behalf.

People who hadn’t earned what I was earning. People who had no idea what it feels like to carry the pressure of earning, then deciding how to spend.

Their advice?

Oh, buy a house.
Buy a plot of land.
Invest in this.
Do that.

No real context. No real risk on their side. Just vibes.

Can we agree on this one thing?

Only take money advice from people who either:

Earn more than you, or
Are earning at the same level and carrying similar financial responsibilities.

I get it, you care about me. You want the best for me. But if you don’t understand the full consequences of every spend— If you’ve never felt the weight of each paycheck— If you don’t know the time and energy it takes to make one financial decision…

Please. Don’t advise.

“Buy real estate”? Sure.

But did you know:

I have to register with the tax authority in this country?
Become a resident first?
Make an upfront investment before I’m even eligible to purchase property?

Do you know what the short-term ROI looks like?

Have you done it?

Have you bought property in a foreign country while self-employed?
Did you navigate the legal, immigration, and tax systems?
Did you budget for the maintenance, vacancy risk, and currency fluctuation?
Have you liquidated that asset before? How long did it take? What did you learn?

Did it bring you peace, or just pressure?

Because if you haven’t walked through the entire process with your own skin in the game, your suggestion might be a projection, not guidance.

And that distinction matters.

Last year, a Lebanese friend of mine suggested I buy a luxury car. His boss was selling a 2020 Mercedes C300, and he pitched it like this:

“Don’t worry, my friend. You pay balance in six months. If you want to sell, I help you sell back at full price.”

(His English is kinda like that.)

His logic?

If you have money, real liquidity, and you don’t want to park it all in a bank, acquire luxury items instead. It’s a two-birds one-stone strategy. Lifestyle and liquidity.

But here’s the nuance: This only made sense because I was in my early 6-figures income era. Not yet doing $250k+ a year, but also not living paycheck to paycheck. Comfortable, but needing liquidity every now and then.

His advice was this:

Buy luxury cars.
Buy watches.
Buy subtle diamonds.

You wear them, use them, show up with them. And suddenly, you notice things shift. Special parking, better treatment, smoother meetings. Not because of the object, but the perception it creates. The door it unlocks.

But here’s where it really blew my mind.

Earlier this year, I needed about $50,000 to take a business bet. I listed the Mercedes for sale.

Within a week, I had serious buyers. I sold it at local market value, which was slightly higher than what I paid in local currency, and nearly the same in USD.

Think about that:

I shelled out $45,000 for a car.
Maintained it quarterly at around $2,000.
And when I needed instant liquidity, I got it. No loan, no begging, just asset to cash.

In contrast, I had bought an SUV later that same year. Used it for 3 months. When I tried to sell it, it sat on the market for 2 months. Eventually sold it for 15% below market value.

The difference?

Market desirability. Perceived luxury. Asset type. Timing.

This advice worked because it matched my current financial reality.

I want the lifestyle, but I also want access to the cash if something urgent comes up. That’s the real flex, not just spending, but spending with optionality.

So when you advise me?

Don’t tell me “invest it.”

I’m still earning consistently. I can afford rent, utilities, even some lifestyle upgrades. What I need is financial strategy, not generic “safe bets.”

Ask me what stage I’m at. Understand the full picture. Then speak.

Otherwise, hold your peace.