The Februaries in Philadelphia are usually cold, and the one in 2015 was no different. When Tae and I met, we were both graduate students in our twenties—driven, ambitious, and still figuring out adulthood together. We shared a love for hard work and responsibility, yet our personalities and interests couldn’t have been more opposite. Maybe that’s what drew us together even more. We fell quickly and deeply in love, soon realizing that our differences weren’t obstacles but lessons—an ongoing journey of learning and growing through each other.
When we began our life together in a tiny one-bedroom apartment in West Philly, it felt like the start of something hopeful and new. I had just started my first full-time job, earning $45,000 a year, while Tae was still finishing school and living on a modest military stipend. Between my entry-level salary and his small allowance, money was tight, and even though we tried our best to avoid it, credit card debt quietly found its way into our lives.
There were stressful moments, like the day Tae’s old Android phone slipped out of his pocket and the screen cracked. I remember how frustrated he was—not because of the phone itself, but because fixing it meant another expense we couldn’t really afford. But there were also happy moments, like when he spent weeks searching for my first car—a $5,000 silver 2007 Honda Fit with one previous owner and a clean title. I had never seen that many scratches on a bumper, but I had never been happier driving that little car to my first real job.
Through it all, we learned to laugh at ourselves and make the most of what we had. One evening, on the SEPTA bus ride back to West Philly, Tae pointed out that according to our budget tracking app, our biggest expense was food, and he suggested we should eat out less (even though we already didn’t eat out much). I told him that according to Engel’s Law, as household income rises, the proportion spent on food falls—in other words, food was our biggest expense simply because we were poor. He laughed, “Well, now we feel great about ourselves.” And we both did.
We were rich in love, but not much else. Neither of us came from money, and even when Tae was stressed about his board exam upon graduation, there was no financial help from family. In those days, when we had more dreams than dollars, a few simple things laid the foundation for the partnership we still rely on today. We agreed to tell each other whenever we were about to make a purchase over $50—except for the occasional gift or surprise. We made a habit of distinguishing needs from wants, determined to make every dollar count. We worked hard, knowing that financial stability was something neither of us had growing up, yet both of us longed for as we built a new life together.
For our younger selves, the idea of building a life in Hawaii one day would have felt like a distant dream. Yet here we are—10 years later—taking small, steady steps toward that vision. Every dollar saved, every lesson learned, and every challenge overcome has brought us closer to the life we once only imagined. As I start this blog to document our journey toward that dream, I hope our story reminds you that even humble beginnings can grow into something beautiful. I invite you to follow along as we continue to earn, save, and invest—one day, one goal, and one dream at a time.
Course to Paradise 