Last Updated on August 2, 2026 by Van Phillips
I turn 44 this year. And the older I get, the clearer one thing becomes to me: the whole job of being a parent — the entire assignment — is to build somebody who doesn’t need you anymore. Not in a cold way. Not in a “get out my house” way. I mean it in the way a good coach wants his player ready for the league, or a good teacher wants her student to outgrow the classroom. You pour everything in so that one day, they can stand on their own two feet without your hand under their back.
If my son finishes school and can’t support himself — that’s not on him. That’s on me and his mother. That’s us failing the one job that actually matters.
I don’t say that to be harsh. I say it because I know what it’s like to not have a choice in the matter.
No Bank of Mom and Dad
Both my parents were gone before I hit 21. Let that sit for a second, because I need you to actually sit with it and not just skim past it. There was no calling home when the rent got tight. No “can you spot me” text. No safety net waiting under me if I slipped. Me and my sisters had to take a situation that was, honestly, kind of brutal, and figure out how to build something out of it — on our own, with what we had.
It was tragic. I won’t dress that up. But it also made us who we are. It forced us to understand the world instead of getting to lean on somebody else’s understanding of it.
That’s not a story I tell for sympathy. I tell it because it’s the reason I think about money, independence, and adulthood the way I do. I didn’t get the choice to ease into grown-up life. I got thrown into the deep end and had to learn to swim. And on the other side of that, I can tell you — there is a kind of pride that comes from making it on your own that nothing else replicates. Even with the sacrifice. Even with the hard years. It’s worth it.
Why I Talk FIRE With My Son Already
Y’all know I don’t shut up about FIRE — Financial Independence, Retire Early — and I’m not going to stop, because the earlier you build that mindset, the more room you give yourself to actually live instead of just survive paycheck to paycheck. I’m setting my son up financially now, while he’s still young, so that by the time he’s stepping into adulthood, he’s not starting from zero the way I had to. He’ll have a head start.
And that’s the point I want other parents to hear: it’s not selfish to build your kid a runway. What’s selfish is trying to keep using your kid as your retirement plan, or worse — trying to relive your own unfinished life through them. I don’t care for that. Y’all had your time. Your kids deserve their own life, their own lane, their own experiences — not a replay of whatever you didn’t get to finish.
If You’re Grown and Still On the Payroll — Look in the Mirror
Now let me flip it, because this needs saying too.
If you’re in your 30s, 40s, even 50s — and you’ve got your own spouse, your own kids — and you’re still leaning on your parents to keep your lights on, I need you to really ask yourself something: what does that make you? Because in my eyes, that’s a grown body still living like a child who never left the house.
Ask yourself how that makes your partner feel, watching you unable to hold your own. Then ask how it makes your kids feel, watching their parent lean on their grandparents to stay afloat.
I’ll say this clearly so there’s no confusion: I am not talking about people who are physically or mentally unable to support themselves. That’s a different conversation entirely, and it deserves compassion, not judgment. I’m talking about able-bodied people who could stand on their own and just… haven’t chosen to.
As a man, the thought of my father, if he was still living, having to cover my bills — or one day my son having to cover mine — sits wrong with me. Deeply wrong. That’s not the legacy I want to leave, and it’s not the example I want to set.
What This Looks Like In My House Right Now
My son’s got one more year of middle school left. High school’s next. And I’ve already started talking to him — really talking to him — about choosing the right path. Not just “go to college because that’s what you do,” but actually thinking through what major, what trade, what direction sets him up to be financially solid. Because let’s be honest: most kids aren’t taught that this decision is one of the biggest financial forks in the road they’ll ever hit. I want him walking into it with his eyes open.
That’s the real inheritance. Not a check. A foundation.
Time doesn’t wait on any of us to figure that out. It’s finite. Once it’s spent, there’s no getting it back — not for you, and not for the runway you’re building for the people coming up behind you.
So build it now. While you still can.
