Join the newsletter that everyone in finance secretly reads. 1M+ subscribers, 100% free.
It’s true what everyone says: time moves faster than you think. One day, you’re settling into your first job, socking away a little money, and trying to make sense of investing. And before you know it, a decade (or more) has gone by.
I’ve made plenty of financial decisions – good and bad – since starting out. And I’ve learned a few lessons the hard way: by getting things wrong before I got them right.
Here are six things I wish I’d known at 25. They would have saved me a lot of hesitation, frustration, and – yep – rent money.
When I began investing, I thought I had to understand everything before committing my hard-earned cash. So I read. Analyzed. Hesitated. But the real learning only began when I put my money in. Suddenly, every price move meant something. I started really paying attention – to markets, drivers, and my own reactions.
There’s a kind of knowledge that only comes when you have skin in the game. And frankly, it’s never been easier to start. You don’t need a huge inheritance or a big portfolio – plenty of online platforms let you get started with just a few bucks. And if your goal is to learn and experiment, that’s a great way to start.
Your mistakes will become your best teachers. And your losses will sting, but their lessons will stick. Over time, those experiences will build real understanding – the kind that textbooks can’t give you. Even $50 a month is enough to learn how the market behaves – and how you behave in it.
When bitcoin first came along, I was skeptical. I rolled my eyes at crypto, and later NFTs, and a few other things that seemed ridiculous at first glance. My natural tendency is to be cautious – which is not a bad thing – but eventually I learned that my skepticism can sometimes drift into close-mindedness.
These days, I keep a small “learning budget” in my portfolio. It’s not about chasing hype; it’s about curiosity. I know that when I invest even a little in something new, I pay closer attention. I study what drives it, how it’s valued, and the problems it’s solving. Sometimes the investment disappoints, but the education never really does. You can read endlessly about new ideas, but nothing makes you learn faster than having a stake in the outcome – no matter how small.
One of my earliest mistakes was buying shares in Michael Kors purely because I liked their handbags. I didn’t understand the business, its margins, its competition, or the risks of this notoriously fickle industry. Fashions changed, the stock halved, and I learned a hard but necessary lesson: a good company doesn’t always make a good investment. Markets price in more than brand appeal – they price in expectations, growth rates, and risks that aren’t always obvious.
Since then, I’ve stuck to what I know best. I invest directly only in businesses I truly understand and believe in for the long term. For everything else, I use broad thematic or market ETFs. It’s less exciting, but it’s more disciplined.
Understanding your “circle of competence” isn’t about limiting your curiosity – it’s about knowing where your judgment is reliable, and where you’re guessing.
I grew up in Singapore but moved to London for work. For years, I put off buying a home because I wasn’t sure how long I’d stay. I had enough for a down payment, but I told myself I was being sensible – that I’d buy when things were clearer. Ten years later, when I finally bought a place, I did the math on the staggering amount of money I’d spent on rent over the years.
In hindsight, I realize I was waiting for the perfect time and the perfect place – neither of which exists. Your first home is rarely your forever home. But it is a first step. And even if the timing isn’t ideal, owning something tangible early on teaches you a lot about financing, maintenance, and long-term value.
Of course, there are times when renting makes more sense – if you’ll move soon, if the market’s frothy, or if interest rates are punishingly high. But most people delay not because the numbers don’t work, but because they’re waiting for certainty. And certainty never comes.
In Asian cultures like mine, debt comes with a kind of moral weight. You’re taught to pay it off fast – end of story. I still value that prudence, but I’ve also learned that not all debt is bad. Used wisely, leverage can do what saving alone can’t.
Here’s a simple example. Say a property costs $400,000 and you have $200,000 saved. You could put down a 50% deposit and own that single property with a smaller loan. Or, you could buy two properties worth $400,000 by putting down 25% deposits – $100,000 on each. If the rental income comfortably covers both mortgages, you’re now building equity in two assets instead of one, using other people’s money as well as your own.
Of course, it’s not without risk – you need to plan for vacancies, maintenance costs, rising rates, and other expenses. But if the numbers hold up under stress, that’s calculated risk, not recklessness. Being too cautious can limit you just as much as being reckless can ruin you. The key is knowing what kind of risk you’re taking – and why.
At 25, money feels tight. You’re building your career, and everything seems just out of reach. But over time, your income will almost certainly rise. Statistically, most people hit their peak earnings more than a decade later. The danger is letting your spending rise just as fast – that’s lifestyle inflation, and it can keep you on the treadmill no matter how much you make.
Being generous to yourself doesn’t mean giving in to every want. It means spending on things that genuinely enrich you – experiences that grow you as a person. Traveling, taking courses, exploring something new – those are expenses that compound in value over time.
And generosity to others is just as important. Even if you don’t feel wealthy, you probably are: if you earn $40,000 a year, you’re already in the top 10% globally. Giving isn’t what you do once you’re rich; it’s what makes you feel rich. It reminds you what money is for.
