What Does It Truly Mean to Be Wealthy?

As a wealth manager, I am often expected to have a definitive answer to what it means to be wealthy.

I do not.

Wealth means something different to each of us. For one person, it may mean owning beautiful properties, traveling extensively, or being able to afford the finest education and health care. For another, it may mean having enough financial security to leave an unfulfilling job, spend more time with family, or simply sleep better at night.

So what does it actually mean to be wealthy?

We tend to measure wealth through numbers. Income, investments, property, net worth, and possessions provide tangible measures of financial success. Yet financial well-being is considerably more personal.

The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau defines financial well-being in terms of financial security and freedom of choice, including the ability to meet obligations, absorb financial shocks, pursue goals, and make choices that allow us to enjoy life. The CFPB also recognizes that financial well-being cannot be fully captured by income or net worth because individual circumstances and perceptions differ.

That distinction matters.

I remember a conversation about wealth that took place in my kitchen several months ago. Someone said to me, “Wealth is everything. Money is everything.”

I disagreed.

Money is extraordinarily useful. It can buy comfort, security, opportunities, experiences, and choices. It can protect us from certain forms of financial uncertainty. It can give us access to resources that materially improve our lives.

But there are also things money cannot purchase.

It cannot buy love. It cannot manufacture genuine relationships. It cannot create memories on our behalf. It cannot guarantee inner peace.

Humanity has understood this tension for centuries. The ancient story of King Midas remains one of the clearest illustrations. Midas was granted the ability to turn everything he touched into gold. The gift quickly became a curse when he discovered that he could no longer eat or drink. The Metropolitan Museum of Art describes the story as a lesson in the consequences of a wish that appeared desirable until its real implications became clear.

I think about Midas because our modern version of the story is remarkably familiar. We may not literally wish for everything we touch to become gold, yet many of us spend years pursuing the next financial milestone without stopping to ask what the milestone is supposed to accomplish.

I have certainly done this myself.

As I have grown older and experienced both the good and difficult chapters of life, I have learned to ask myself three questions before pursuing something that requires more money.

Why do I want this?

What will it cost me in time and life to earn the additional money required?

Do I actually need it to have the life I want?

Those questions have changed the way I think about wealth.

Having substantial financial resources and feeling wealthy are two different experiences. The question of what constitutes “a lot” has no universal answer. There will almost always be someone with a larger house, greater wealth, more impressive investments, or a more extravagant lifestyle.

Comparison makes this particularly difficult. We often compare our lives with people who appear to have more than we do, then assume that their lives must be better. Financial well-being research reinforces the importance of subjectivity in this area. 

The problem begins when we expect money to solve problems that are fundamentally human.

We may pursue another financial milestone because we believe it will finally give us validation. We may work another weekend because we believe another promotion will finally make us feel successful. We may continue accumulating because we have never defined what enough actually looks like.

There is nothing wrong with wanting more. I want things too, and many of the things I want cost money.

The important question is why I want them and what I am willing to exchange for them.

My perspective on this was profoundly shaped by my late father. The last time I saw him, he told me that he had spent much of his life pursuing more success, more money, and more property. Then he reflected that when life ends, none of those things accompany us. What remains are the memories we created and the lives we touched.

His advice to me was simple: make a lot of memories.

I have carried those words with me ever since.

For me, the ultimate purpose of wealth is freedom.

Personal wealth can create options. It can give us the option to stay in a job or leave it. It can give us greater flexibility about where we live, how we spend our time, and how we respond when circumstances change. It can reduce the number of decisions we are forced to make from a position of financial necessity.

That, in my view, is where financial planning becomes much more meaningful than simply pursuing a larger number.

The objective should be to understand what we actually want our money to make possible.

As I approached my most recent birthday, I spent considerable time thinking about what I genuinely want from my life.

My answer surprised me with its simplicity.

I want inner peace.

For me, that means having the financial capacity to say no to things that do not represent who I am. It means having more mornings available for the gym. It means traveling. It means spending more time with the people I love. It means having the freedom to protect my weekends and decide how I want to use my time.

All of those choices have financial consequences. Some may even reduce my ability to earn more money.

Yet they make me feel wealthy.

That is my definition. Yours may be completely different.

Perhaps wealth means building a business you can eventually pass to your children. Perhaps it means retiring early. Perhaps it means supporting your parents, funding your children’s education, traveling the world, or giving generously to causes you care about. Perhaps it simply means reaching a point where money no longer dictates every decision you make.

There is no universal number at which wealth becomes meaningful.

There is only the question each of us eventually has to answer: What is my wealth actually for?

I believe that is the question worth asking before we spend another year pursuing more.