• Darcy Flynn, a lawyer, wanted to go on a 2-month trip to Spain, so he retired at 64.
• He's been splitting his time traveling overseas, visiting his mom, driving cross-country, and taking part-time legal jobs.
• He's delivering company cars for $0.45 per mile to supplement his pension and explore the country.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Darcy Flynn, 65, a semi-retired lawyer from Washington, DC. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Early last year, my partner and I were figuring out how to get enough time off for a trip to Spain. I was 64 and working as a legal aid attorney in Washington, DC. Although I could have applied for extended leave, I decided it was a good time to retire to have the flexibility to travel more.

We ended up taking a two-month trip to Spain. Since then, I've traveled — both alone and with her — to Gibraltar, Morocco, Germany, and Nigeria. I've also spent time in Ireland, and, as a huge Beatles fan, finally had a chance to visit Liverpool in England.

My first year of retirement

While traveling in Europe, my partner and I strategized about what to do when we returned to the US. Having both rented out our homes for a year, we knew we'd need to get creative about where we stayed when we got back.

I got into pet sitting when we were traveling and started researching other ways I could get paid to travel in the US. I found companies that pay to have cars delivered to employees around the country. As an independent contractor, I could pick up a job whenever I wanted.

So, over the past nine months, I've spent my time doing one of four things: traveling overseas, visiting my 91-year-old mother in Michigan, driving around the country, and taking on part-time legal jobs.

I was offered my first driving assignment when I was in DC, getting ready to travel to Michigan. The 1,200-mile round-trip ride usually costs about $700, including car rental and gas.

Instead, I drove a Chevrolet Equinox to Sandusky, Ohio, for $0.45 per mile. The drive earned me about $225, and I spent $32 on a three-hour Greyhound bus to Detroit. It was less convenient than going straight to my mom's, but since retiring, I've had a bit more free time.

I've continued taking on these jobs at my convenience. In January, I drove for three weeks straight, starting in Massachusetts. I made it to Tennessee, Texas, New Mexico, Phoenix, and Los Angeles.

In New Mexico, I visited Carlsbad Caverns National Park. In Los Angeles, I stopped by a few sites of the infamous and grizzly Charles Manson murders. In Atlanta, I ended up reconnecting with one of my best friends from college, and we've been keeping in touch since.

It's a whole different approach to travel. I used to just pick a destination, make a hotel reservation, and then hit the road. But these days, I like not knowing what city my little journey will take me to.

So far, I've completed 11 drives and earned over $6,000 from them. I've spent a little under that amount, as I travel frugally and don't splurge on restaurants or lodging. The driving basically pays for itself and allows me to save my pension and rental income; I rent out my house in DC for about $1,500 a month, while my pensions total $2,700. I collect $300 a month in interest income. It adds up to about $4,500 a month.

I haven't fully retired from law

I initially considered fully retiring because I had sufficient income. But then, an opportunity to work on a ten-week legal project in New York came up. I had never worked in New York and saw it as an opportunity to live like a local, so I jumped at the chance.

I like the idea of continuing to work. My original plan was to work part-time until I turned 70 and started collecting Social Security, but now, I can see myself working into my 70s.

While there are opportunities for more permanent positions, I'm not interested. I need more time off to visit my mom in Michigan, travel, and explore.

I am 65 and want to continue doing this while I can. I see people around my age whose physical health would make this lifestyle hard. These days, I walk about 7 miles per day, both to save on transportation costs and to exercise. I've lost 25 pounds from walking.

It's nice being unsure about what will come next.

Got a personal essay about retiring early to travel that you want to share? Get in touch with the editor: [email protected].

• Steppin is the latest app by Kayak's cofounder, Paul English.
• The app limits phone use by encouraging users to clock steps to unlock screen time.
• I tried it out for a week, and I noticed it made a difference in my morning routine.

For the past few years, I've set similar New Year's resolutions to reduce my screen time. I've tried setting time limits, keeping my phone out of sight, and deleting social media apps.

None of them ever worked. With an average daily screen time of over five hours, I'm what fellow Gen Zers might call chronically online. And social media, not surprisingly, takes up the biggest chunk of my time.

When I learned that a new iOS app called Steppin — created by the Kayak cofounder Paul English — aims to help people "escape the scroll," I was intrigued.

I tested the app for a week

Steppin combines the goals of clocking steps and limiting screen time. The more steps you take, the more time you are granted to use your restricted apps.

Each user can set their own parameters. I decided to restrict two of my most time-draining apps: Instagram and TikTok. For every 100 steps taken, I granted myself one minute of usage on my restricted apps. My earned time would reset every day.

I spent my first day working from home.

Normally, I use my evenings to unwind by scrolling social media. But on that day, by 5 p.m., I had only tracked 200 steps. With only two minutes to scroll, I decided to walk to a nearby park instead.

When I was done, I had walked more than 2,000 steps, the equivalent of 20 minutes of screen time. Seeing the number jump on the app gave me a dopamine rush.

At the end of the day, I had built up credit and could choose how much of my earned time to spend on my restricted apps.

I used the app for a week. The biggest change was that I stopped scrolling social media as soon as I woke up; I couldn't, because I hadn't clocked the required steps for that day. I felt refreshed and ended up with more productive mornings.

By the end of the week, my average screen time dropped by almost two hours.

How it works

Steppin is not the first app designed to curb screen time. The Qustodio parental app, released in 2012, allows parents to block apps and set daily screen time limits. Forest, released the following year, grows virtual trees during focus sessions. If users leave the app, the tree starts to die.

There are also built-in apps that allow users to set daily limits. Apple Screen Time is a feature on iPhones, and Digital Wellbeing, developed by Google, is on most Android devices.

Paul English, the CEO of Boston Venture Studio and the cofounder of the travel search engine Kayak, told Business Insider the idea for Steppin was sparked on a family trip to Spain.

During the trip, English's then-fiancée, Rachel Cohen, and his son, Mike English, discussed ways to reduce screen time.

He credited the other two for the idea. "The idea really came from Michael and Rachel more than me. I was really excited about that and I said, we gotta do this, let's build it, let's build it, let's put a team together because I think it's a really good idea," English said.

"There should be something outside of your phone to manage a phone addiction," the younger English, 29, a product manager and designer at Boston Venture Studio, told BI.

"Walking is obviously something that almost everybody does. So that felt like a perfect combination of physical and mental well-being," he said of the inspiration behind the app.

The app was released last month and is free on the App Store, although they are planning to charge an annual subscription fee of around $20. Steppin is not yet available on Google Play, but Android users can sign up for its waitlist.

"We have several thousand downloads, which is great since we just released the app a couple weeks ago and we have not started any marketing yet," the elder English said. He declined to give a specific download count.

Why Steppin might — or might not — work

Pamela Rutledge, a media psychologist and the director of the Media Psychology Research Center, an independent research organization in California, said that Steppin could appeal to users who enjoy setting short-term goals with immediate rewards.

Assuming that screen time is a "high-reward" activity, pairing it with a "good for you" behavior can help people overcome inertia, she told BI. "This app might act as a gentle reminder to get moving, but more importantly, it breaks habitual behaviors and shifts attention," she added.

But Rutledge said that the app's effectiveness will depend on the user's motivations, adding that users may become frustrated or lose interest once its novelty wears off.

Some experts also expressed concerns about a feature that allows users to override screen time restrictions in emergencies.

Melissa Hunt, a clinical psychologist at the University of Pennsylvania, said the app might be effective initially in making people more aware of their screen time by helping them be mindful, she said. "But overall, technology solutions to technology problems are always going to be inherently problematic," she said.

Mike English said the option to override restrictions was included to give users more flexibility.

It took self-discipline to stop myself from overriding restrictions when I ran out of earned time. But being restricted from using social media didn't stop me from fiddling with my phone when I had nothing to do. I found myself gravitating to other apps — and usually ended up at NYT Games to play rounds of "Spelling Bee."

• Elias Tiong and his wife, Hailee Chong, started a bottled tea drink business after a trip to Japan in 2018.
• As risk-averse full-time lawyers with no business experience, they started the business on the side.
• They've since left their jobs to focus on building their brand, Crafti, full-time.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Elias Tiong, 31, the founder of Crafti, a matcha business in Singapore. The following has been edited for length and clarity. Business Insider has verified their business earnings.

After a year in corporate law, I realized it might not be my cup of tea.

The law firm I was working at had offered newly qualified lawyers a monthlong break after a year of training. The break was timely. I had lost weight — not in a good way — and my acne had gotten worse. I began to reflect on whether being a lawyer was the right career choice.

I decided to take a trip to Japan with my then-fiancée, Hailee. On that trip, I discovered how dependent I had become on coffee. Since joining the firm, I started drinking two to four cups a day. While traveling through remote areas, I couldn't get coffee and struggled with severe migraines. I saw this as a wake-up call that I needed to live healthier and reduce my caffeine dependence.

As it happened, we came across many bottled tea drinks at convenience stores in Japan. Unlike coffee, which I found had less variety outside the specialty coffee scene, there were so many different types of tea — from hojicha and matcha to genmaicha.

They turned out to be suitable alternatives to coffee. While teas like matcha contain caffeine, I found that they didn't cause jitters, in the way that coffee had.

So Hailee and I thought: Why don't we try to create something similar back home in Singapore?

In 2019, we started a side business selling bottled matcha. We used premium ingredients like ceremonial-grade matcha and fresh milk, so the drinks tasted more like café-made drinks and less like what you'd typically find in a convenience store.

As lawyers with no business experience, we were risk-averse. We invested a small amount upfront — about $1,500 — just to conduct research and development and come up with the first batch of inventory.

We got questioned about the career change

At first, some people asked, "Why would you be a lawyer and sell tea?"

My parents also questioned me about the opportunity cost of starting a business. But I wasn't as worried about how much money I made. I was passionate about something, I believed that with that, I would be able to flourish.

The business started off strong. The pandemic led to a surge in demand for e-commerce and our bottled drinks sold well. That was when I decided we were doing well enough for me to quit and focus on the tea business full-time.

But when pandemic restrictions were lifted, demand fell, and we saw business tumble. It was scary. It was our first experience with volatility — something we've since learned to live with.

We decided to pivot from selling bottled tea lattes to selling matcha powder for consumers to make healthy tea lattes at home. Now called Crafti, our business grew 50% to 80% in revenue annually. At the end of 2024, we reached a low seven-figure revenue.

Mixing business and marriage

When we started, we decided to run the business on the side because we didn't want to take too much risk. We had a mortgage to pay and other expenses to consider. So, even when I left my job to do this full-time, my wife continued to work in law and helped run the business on the side.

But in 2024, she left her job to work at Crafti full-time. And I'm happy that we're managing to make it work.

We complement each other well. I take on a more managerial role and work on longer-term business strategy while she takes on a more creative role.

I've seen many examples of successful businesses run by couples. The pros are that couples often have a shared vision, and that is so important when running a business.

The bad thing is, of course, there are disagreements at times.

Learning to manage disagreements has strengthened our relationship. We're not parents yet, but I believe there are certain similarities with parenthood in that it's a shared project between us. Many couples have told me that parenthood made them closer, and I view our business in the same way.

Matcha as a long-term plan

We are happy with our business and have no plans to return to law.

The thing about running a business is that you can have profit on paper, but you may not have cash in the bank, because you need to invest back into your business. After five years, we now pay ourselves about the same as we got in our previous jobs.

The biggest change is that I had someone to push me along at the law firm. But now, my wife and I are responsible for making sure things get done. Over the years, we've grown to a team of 10 and work out of a coworking space.

Still, I feel a greater sense of fulfillment. I didn't used to look forward to work. But now, whenever my wife and I go on vacation, we can't wait to return and get work done.

• To kick off 2025, Erin Liam visited Hong Kong for the first time in January.
• Having grown up in Singapore, she had expected the cities to be similar.
• However, she was surprised by several ways of life, including sharing tables with strangers.
  

When I told my family I was planning a trip to Hong Kong, they responded, "Why? Isn't Hong Kong similar to Singapore?"

In some ways, they are right. Hong Kong and Singapore — where I grew up — are often compared to one another. Both cities have high population densities, serve as global financial hubs, and are known for being expensive.

But on a four-day solo trip there in January, I was surprised to see how different the cities were.

1. Sharing tables with strangers

On my first night, I settled into a cozy beef noodle restaurant and was mid-slurp when a middle-aged man sat across from me at my table. Without even a glance in my direction, he ordered his dish and tucked in.

Although initially confused, I learned that table sharing, known as dap toi, is a dining norm in the city. The practice isn't meant to be intrusive, nor is it an invitation to make conversation. It simply arises from the lack of space and the need for efficiency.

It makes sense. Hong Kong, a city slightly smaller than Rome, has a population of around 7.5 million, per its mid-2024 census. Yet, government data from 2018 showed that only about 24% of land area is built-up. The result is a densely populated city where space is a luxury.

2. Speaking up on minibuses

Hong Kong is not a city for the soft-spoken. I learned the hard way that you must speak up to get what you want — on minibuses, at least. Also known as public light buses, minibuses provide an efficient mode of transportation to areas that Hong Kong's standard buses may not easily reach.

On route to the start of a hiking trail to Braemer Hill Peak, a spot to catch sunset views of the city, I took a minibus to avoid the 1-mile climb up. When the minibus reached my stop, however, it simply zoomed past and traveled back down.

As it turned out, not all minibuses have "stop" buttons that I was familiar with. Instead, passengers alert the bus driver when they want to get off by saying "yau lok," which means to stop the bus in Cantonese. It was, not surprisingly, a daunting task for an introvert.

On that day, I resigned myself to walking back up the hill and avoided minibuses for the rest of the trip.

3. French toast is not breakfast

If there's one thing that fueled my desire to visit Hong Kong, it's the food. The city is a foodie's dream, with 79 Michelin-starred restaurants in 2024. Local cafés, or cha chaan tengs, and open-air food stalls, or dai pai dongs, are also mainstays of the food scene.

I was eager to try Hong Kong-style French toast. Unlike French toast in the US — typically pan-fried and served with maple syrup — Hong Kong-style French toast is usually stuffed with peanut butter, deep-fried, then topped with condensed milk. The dish was introduced to Hong Kong during British colonial times and evolved to adapt to local tastes and ingredients.

When I attempted to order the treat for breakfast, however, the waiter wagged her finger and pointed to another menu — the afternoon tea menu. French toast, it seems, is considered a tea-time snack that is usually enjoyed later in the day. Instead, I settled for macaroni soup for breakfast. Funnily, it was something I would consider more of a lunch dish.

The next afternoon, I returned to a nearby cha chaan teng to attempt to order the dish again — only to be served french fries due to miscommunication.

4. Lines are everywhere, but they usually move quickly

On my first day, I walked miles to check out Hong Kong's famous eateries, only to give up upon seeing the long lines. But when I took a chance on one, I was surprised by how quickly it moved. As a city that prioritizes efficiency and speed, people eat and leave quickly, so lines move fast.

As a solo diner, I saw the benefits of dap toi. It was like joining a single-rider line at Disneyland, and I soon got used to sharing tables with strangers in crowded eateries.

Looking back, I could have enjoyed egg tarts and steamed rice rolls if I had been a little more patient.

5. Everything moves at twice the speed

When I met up with a local friend for dinner, she finished a plate of roasted pork rice within minutes. "You're done already?" I asked in amusement. "Hong Kong speed," she simply replied.

Indeed, everything moves quickly in Hong Kong. In busy districts like Mong Kok and Central, the Mass Transit Railway train arrives every other minute. People walk as if they are on a mission, and waiters almost expect you to know what to order the moment you sit down.

I was used to the fast pace of life in Singapore and assumed Hong Kong would match it. Instead, it surpassed my expectations and, at times, felt jarring. But, it was the bustling energy that made the city feel truly alive.

I'll be back again. Next time, I'll make sure to order my French toast correctly.

• Moving abroad with kids can be challenging.
• BI spoke to parents about how they helped their kids navigate the move.
• Parents suggested telling kids about the move early and involving them in decision-making.

Moving abroad is never straightforward, and with kids in tow, it becomes even more complicated.

Additional factors come into play, from finding the right school and dealing with negative reactions to explaining cultural differences.

"The truth is that as meaningful and life-changing as moving abroad can be, it can be hard, no matter how experienced you feel," Stacy Ennis, who moved her family to Thailand and Portugal, previously wrote for Business Insider.

"When kids are involved, the chances of hardship are even higher," she added.

BI spoke to parents and relocation consultants who uprooted their lives in the US to move to different parts of the world.

Here are their best pieces of advice:

1. Start the conversation early

Genie Doi knew she wanted to leave the US with her family after a shooting near her son's school in Los Angeles. He was 5 years old at the time, and when she told him about the move, he was upset, she said. He worried about leaving his grandparents, friends, and toys behind.

"We tried to prepare him for a year just by talking about how exciting this change is going to be," said Doi, who moved in 2022. Before moving, they also visited his new school in Japan so he could familiarise himself with the environment and try to make some friends.

"It was a really smooth transition for him," said Doi.

2. Plan ahead for school

In 2016, Jackie Baxa relocated from Wyoming to Seville, Spain, with her husband and two sons, who were 9 and 13 at the time. Now, she is a relocation coach for families looking to do the same.

Baxa said that education is a factor that weighs heavily on parents' minds. Things to consider include the language in which classes are being taught and whether their kids have the capacity to pick up a second language.

"Do what you can to foster language development in a way that doesn't feel like you're adding more school to the child," said Baxa, whose sons chose to stay in Europe for college and are now fluent in Spanish.

3. Find a piece of home abroad

Besides packing sentimental items from home, Baxa suggested finding bridging activities to help your kids adapt abroad.

Knowing that her kids were big soccer fans, Baxa and her husband brought them to watch professional games. "We knew that that would be really special for them, and it was special for all of us," she said.

She added that capitalizing on what kids identify with and expanding them into new interests can also create psychological comfort.

"It could open up pathways to friendships and things that will make them feel better about what they've left behind," she said.

4. Involve your kids in the decision-making process

Anna Sosdian, an international relocation consultant at StartAbroad, suggested that parents involve their kids in decision-making.

"Make them feel like they have some control over some of the details," she said, whether that's letting them decide what to do on their first day or choosing which room they will have in the new home.

When Jennifer Kusch told her teenage sons that they were relocating to Dubai for her work, they told her she was "ruining" their lives, she told BI.

But they eventually warmed up to the idea. Kusch moved to Dubai six weeks early to settle into their new home. On trips to Ikea, she video-called her kids so they could choose their bedding and furniture.

"I tried to keep them as involved as possible," she said.

5. Your mood affects your kids

Celia Robbins, who moved to Berlin with her husband and four kids, said she tried to stay positive for her kids. "If you're not happy, it's hard for them to be happy," she said.

To help them better integrate, she and her husband networked and joined communities on Facebook.

They also sent their kids to German language classes and enrolled them in a German American school.

"We are trying hard to be ourselves while also appreciating the community and the culture that we're a part of," she said.

6. Encourage them to ask questions

Despite the stress of moving and potential resistance from their kids, these parents agreed on one thing: Go for it.

Learning to say goodbye to friends and being the new kid is hard, said Katie Miller, who moved from Texas to Dubai with her husband and three young kids earlier this year.

"But I'm watching each of them thrive because they've been stretched in new ways," she said.

She said parents should invite their kids to be curious about the moving process.

"We told the kids there are no silly questions. We are all learning together."

• I'm the youngest of three siblings — and the only Gen Zer.
• When I graduated this year, I faced the realities of job-hunting and adulthood.
• I learned lessons from observing my sisters and other millennials navigate their 20s.

After 16 years in the education system, my time as a student ended on a random Wednesday afternoon in April. I was finally free from lectures, tests, and group projects — but thrust into the realities of a scarier world: adulthood.

In this world, there were no set milestones to tell me I was on the right track. Everyone seemed to be on a path to something greater, but I felt directionless.

I know I'm not alone. Every 20-something has probably felt at least a little bit lost in life. But amid mass layoffs and the threat of AI replacing jobs, stepping into the job market as a fresh graduate in 2024 felt like diving head-first into an abyss.

An August report by an early careers platform, Handshake, surveyed 1,925 graduating students. They found that 57% of the students felt pessimistic about starting their careers — an increase from 49% of graduating students last year. Of the 57%, 63% said the competitive job market contributed to their pessimism.

The stress of not knowing whether I could secure a job was compounded by uncertainty about my career. I had studied journalism but wasn't sure if it was the right fit. I had the irrational fear that if my first job turned out to be the "wrong" choice, I'd be relegated back to the start line of the rat race.

Amid a brewing quarter-life crisis, I looked to my sisters, aged 28 and 31. They do many things that people of my generation may scoff at, like watching Instagram reels exclusively and using the laughing emoji. But they seem to have figured out one thing: life after college.

Here's what I've learned from watching them conquer the Roaring Twenties.

Life doesn't end when school ends

Toward the end of college, I mentally prepared myself for the fast-approaching expiration of youth.

"You must treasure your university days," relatives constantly reminded me at yearly Lunar New Year gatherings. They painted adulthood as a bleak portrait of bills, mundanity, and loneliness. So, when the time came, I was reluctant to let go of my identity as a student.

But as the youngest sibling, I also watched my sisters graduate from college, get married, and build their own homes. I saw them achieve promotions at work, find new hobbies, and start a life outside the one I knew of us growing up together.

Adulting isn't easy — I now know that. But there are also so many new milestones and freedoms that come with it, and there is so much to be excited about.

A job is just a job

My elder sister works in communications and the other in architecture. Even when their hours stretched into the night and weekends, they built a whole life outside work.

One started a sticker side business, and the other is now an avid runner.

It wasn't always smooth. My second-oldest sister burned out after working too much in her first job and took a career break. She prioritized work-life balance at her next job.

In that way, millennials and Gen Zers are alike. A 2024 report by Deloitte found that work-life balance topped the priorities for both generations when choosing an employer. When asked which areas of life were most important to their sense of identity, both generations agreed that jobs came second only to friends and family.

Distancing myself from the idea that my job had to be my one true passion lifted a weight off my shoulders. As much as I still want a job that gives me purpose, I also make time for other aspects of life that fulfill me, like working out and spending time with friends.

Just give it time

As with most worries, the fear that I'd never find a job was unfounded. In July, I started my first job as a junior reporter. But when the first day at work finally ended, I trudged home in a daze.

"I have to do this every day for the next 40 years?" I asked my second-oldest sister, who laughed. It wasn't that I didn't like the job. It was the change in routine from school life to a 9-to-5 that unsettled me.

"You'll get used to it," my sister said. Six months in, I still don't know if I will. But seeing my millennial counterparts thrive has encouraged me.

It's not just my siblings who have set an example. At work, my millennial colleagues are a constant source of guidance to the Gen Zers in the office. On social media, millennial influencers brand themselves as "internet big sisters" and give advice on navigating the complex years of their 20s.

Older millennials are now turning 40, but they were once in the position of Gen Zers, being scoffed at by the older generations for being "lazy" and changing work culture.

Now, they've drawn the map for Gen Zers' entry into the strange world of adulthood. It's made adulting just a little less scary.

• As a graduate student at Stanford, Alex Yin, 32, had to decide between two internship opportunities
• He chose an internship in Bhutan, even though it was less relevant to his career.
• During his monthlong stint as an IT consultant, he learned how to grow from discomfort.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Alex Yin, 32, an options trader from New Jersey. He graduated from Stanford Graduate School of Business in June. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

As a Stanford Graduate School of Business student, deciding where to intern was tough.

I had two offers under the school's international program, the Global Management Immersion Experience. In order to graduate, fulfilling this program is required — either through the work abroad program or by taking a course on international business.

My first option was to work for a family office in Madrid, analyzing various investments. I had studied finance and statistics undergrad at New York University and had spent seven years in Chicago trading options at a large firm. It seemed like a natural fit and could be useful for anything I wanted to do in the future.

But I also had a second offer — a monthlong internship as an IT consultant at a hazelnut farm in Bhutan.

I had wanted to go to Bhutan ever since I went on vacation to Tibet when I was 17. It was such a magical place, and I wanted to return to a similar environment. I also knew it was a difficult country for visitors to visit as the government limits tourism.

It was a battle between my heart and my head. My heart was screaming, "Go to Bhutan! It doesn't matter what the job or company is. It's a cool opportunity."

Usually, I trust my head, but for this, I just listened to my heart.

I took the second offer

In August 2023, I flew 14 hours from New York to New Delhi and another five hours to Bhutan.

On the night I arrived, I met the CEO of Mountain Hazelnuts — an eccentric and friendly British man. The next morning, he took me to Tiger's Nest, an iconic monastery in Bhutan. It was an intense two-hour hike with steep and muddy trails.

Before the trip, I told myself I wouldn't care how uncomfortable it was and that I could spend a month without complaining. But it was day two, and I was like, "Wow, this is not easy. It's hot. I'm sweaty. There's a lot of poop around me. I'm about to fall." Still, I pushed through, and it was a magical experience at the top.

Later, we took a 16-hour car ride to Lingmethang, a small town in the eastern part of Bhutan, where I would work. I stayed in a three-bedroom home above the corporate office.

My week was divided between days in the office and field visits. As an IT consultant, my job responsibility was to manage a very limited IT budget and improve the security of their backup systems.

There was a point when I realized I'd actually never done any of this stuff before. "Am I qualified for the role?" I wondered to myself.

However, I learned that you can achieve a lot if you spend your time fully focused on solving a problem, even if you haven't had that direct experience before.

After work, I'd go to the village, drink a beer, and eat some momos, a type of dumpling, with my colleagues. They were locals between the ages of 25 and 45, and could all speak English well. I had to adjust to the simplicity, but I really appreciated it after a year at Stanford, where social events were nonstop.

Growing from discomfort

My biggest takeaway was that transitioning from a comfortable to an uncomfortable state isn't easy. But once you're in that uncomfortable state, it's pretty easy to maintain it.

In the village, I didn't have a lot of creature comforts. I had a pretty spartan life. But I was just as happy there, without the technology and distractions I had in Palo Alto. It's such a beautiful place that I didn't feel bored.

At night, I'd fend off mosquitoes, as locals don't kill them. I ran out of mosquito repellent in the first week, which was hard. The food also took a bit of getting used to, as it was mostly vegetarian.

Now, I live in New Jersey and am back in options trading. Although the internship was not entirely relevant to my career, it helped me gain confidence that if I try my best to solve a problem, I can still accomplish something.

I also appreciated how cohesive the company in Bhutan was. Although it wasn't doing well, everyone wanted to contribute their best. They held company barbecues where people would bring their families, dance, and sing into the night. I never heard anyone complaining during my time there.

I have found that this cohesiveness is hard to find in the US, where firms incentivize loyalty with money. I'd like to apply that to my future work places.

I will never regret choosing Bhutan, and I plan to return for a visit at some point.

• Nicole Echeverria felt unsafe in the US and wanted to try living abroad.
• She applied for graduate school because she thought getting a student visa would be easier.
• She now lives and works remotely from Nazaré, a beach town an hour and a half from Lisbon.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Nicole Echeverria, 31, who moved from New York to Portugal in 2019. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

I'd had the itch to try living abroad for some time.

I grew up in New York, graduated from the University of Michigan with a bachelor's degree in economics in 2015, and then moved to Boston for work.

After the 2016 elections, I began to feel anxious about my safety. That's when I started seriously considering moving abroad. I just needed to find the right opportunity.

I knew a student visa would make it easier to move, so I thought, why don't I apply to graduate school abroad?

Most people think graduate school is only worth it if it can propel their careers forward. However, I saw it as a way to gain valuable life experience and keep me in the same career field.

I had a few requirements: The degree had to be business-related, taught in English, and American-accredited. It also had to be in a country with a lower cost of living so that I could pay for my degree without taking loans.

In the winter of 2018, I found the right program. It was a two-year Masters of Science in Business program at Católica Lisbon School of Business & Economics.

At that time, the program cost around 14,300 euros, which I had in savings.

I left Boston, where I had been working in content marketing, and moved back home to live with my parents in Long Island. For nine months, I focused on saving up as much as possible while commuting to New York City for work.

In August 2019, I moved to Lisbon. Although I had traveled to other parts of Europe, I had never visited Portugal. I went purely on the faith that if I wasn't happy there, I'd return to New York once I graduated.

I got really lucky that I ended up loving it. Lisbon instantly gave me a Los Angeles vibe. The weather was hot, but the beaches were beautiful. Everyone had a relaxed attitude, and people weren't on edge like they were in New York.

I didn't intend to stay

Around half a year into my program, the pandemic struck, and everything went remote. Many of my international classmates returned to their home countries. That's when I was faced with the question: Do I want to go back to New York?

Back in the US, I was always hyperaware of gun violence. Anything could happen walking in the streets of Manhattan, for example. A crazy person could approach you, and you just have to keep walking. It also looks like it's gotten worse, with incidents of women getting assaulted on the streets.

As hard as it was to be away from my family and close friends, prioritizing my health and safety was worth the loneliness of moving abroad. I felt less anxious about safety in Portugal, which solidified my decision to stay.

Portugal has a post-graduation work visa that grants international students a year of residence to find employment. After being on the visa for a year, I registered as a freelancer on a regular work permit and have worked as a social media manager since.

My family was surprised by my decision to stay. My dad told me that when my grandparents ask about me, he has to remind them that I live in another country now. But I still return a few times a year for Christmas or special occasions.

I'm planning a wedding in Portugal

In 2022, I met my fiancé through TikTok. He's Portuguese and commented on one of my videos. After two years, we moved in together in Nazaré, a beach town an hour and a half away from Lisbon.

We're planning our wedding in Portugal for August next year. We picked a venue an hour and a half away from Porto in the countryside. It's a gorgeous historic building built in the 1700s, and we're super excited about it.

The venue will cost $3,500 for a two-day rental, offering us the chance to have an affordable wedding.

Sometimes, I tease my fiancé with the idea that once I get my Portuguese passport, we can move to Greece or elsewhere in Europe.

For now, we dream of living in Lisbon and having a summer vacation house in Greece. From the relaxed way of life, lower cost of living, and the fact that I can work remotely as a freelancer, it just makes more sense to have my life here.

I'm definitely planning on staying for the long term.

• Alex Teo, 36, left his corporate job to take over his family's joss paper business.
• The journey has not been easy in modern Singapore, where religious affiliations are declining.
• Teo's career goal is to reinvent the traditional business for the younger generation.

The latest smartphone, a three-story villa, and a private jet. Alex Teo has sold it all — for the dead.

Teo, 36, is the third-generation owner of Ban Kah Hiang Trading, one of Singapore's oldest joss paper businesses. They sell incense sticks, joss papers, and paper effigies — or paper replicas of real-life objects — which are designed to be burned as part of Chinese ancestral worship outside homes and in temples.

His grandfather opened the shop in the 1950s before his father took over in the early 1990s.

But it's an increasingly tough business to run in Singapore, where religious affiliations are waning. Many joss paper business owners of his father's generation have closed down because their kids did not want to take over, he said.

So, at 28, he stepped up. "I thought it would be a pity if I were not to continue it," he told Business Insider.

Now, he's on a mission to reinvent the traditional business for the new generation.

He had no interest at first

During traditional Chinese festivals, believers in Chinese folk religion burn joss paper — also known as "hell money" — as an offering to deities or ancestors.

Some also burn paper effigies of the latest products, such as cars and cameras, for their ancestors.

"The belief is that by burning these items, they will become 'real' in the afterlife and can also be used by their loved ones there," Terence Heng, a sociologist from the University of Liverpool, told BI.

Although Teo grew up helping at the shop, he was never very religious and had no interest in taking over. After graduating from college with a degree in business management, he worked for the public service and then an insurance company, assessing medical claims.

But things changed in 2016 when his dad got sick. His parents, then in their late 50s, asked him whether he could take over.

"I thought, 'Should I give up my corporate job? But I would have to give up some social life,'" he recalled, explaining that most people in the industry are significantly older, unlike the colleagues he had formed friendships with in his previous jobs.

Teo, who now has four kids, said his wife supported the career switch. "She thought that if I were to do my own business, I would have more time for her," he said.

He was also enticed by the thought of being his own boss.

"If I work hard in the corporate world, I can only wait for my bonus. But here, I'm the boss. If I work hard, I earn more money," he said.

The business of religion in modern society

Still, his journey has not been easy. Since taking over the business, Teo says he has seen retail sales fall as the younger generation drifts away from religious beliefs.

In Singapore, between 2010 and 2020, there was an increased proportion of residents with no religious affiliations across all age groups, data from the Singapore Department of Statistics showed. The same data showed that the percentage of Taoists and Buddhists — religious groups that use joss paper products — fell by 2.1% and 2.2%, respectively.

The decline in religious beliefs is part of a wider trend across the world. In the US, around 28% of adults described themselves as atheists, agnostics, or "nothing in particular" when asked about their religion — up from 16% in 2007, a 2024 Pew Research Center survey found.

Meanwhile, complaints about the environmental impact of burning joss paper have been simmering in Singapore.

In February, the Singapore government ran a second campaign to improve burning etiquette by encouraging people to pray in temples instead of outside their homes and to clean up after prayers, per a press release from the Alliance for Action.

Teo said that in the past, business at his family's retail shop would pick up during festive periods like Lunar New Year and the Hungry Ghost Festival but lull during other times of the year.

Running the retail shop also affected his parents, who worked over 10 hours daily and wanted to retire.

So, in May last year, Teo sold the retail shop to focus on wholesale distribution to companies and temples from their warehouse.

Teo saw it as an opportunity to invest more time in innovating their products to meet the needs of a changing consumer base.

"We had to think about how we can prolong tradition and culture to fit into the current modern mindset," he said. "If we were to continue to sell the traditional way like my dad did, I don't think we can be sustainable."

Keeping up with the times

In 2023, Teo partnered with his close friend, Chris Huang, who works in FinTech, to establish Base Genesis, a modern joss paper startup.

The pair invested a mid-five-figure amount to set up the business. While Teo focuses on operations, Huang oversees finances. They've since hired seven employees who work on branding, marketing, and livestream sales.

Their new business aims to innovate traditional joss paper products to appeal to younger generations — from packaging to sustainability.

Early this year, they were approached by MullenLowe, an advertising agency, to develop an eco-friendly hell note. The "Eco Hell Note" has a denomination with 48 zeroes — the largest possible denomination of money in the Chinese language. Instead of burning a stack of notes, burning one piece would suffice. Teo added that their note is ashless and smokeless, unlike traditional notes that create smog when burned.

"Burning joss paper is deep-rooted in our Chinese culture," he said, adding that a ban on the practice is unlikely to happen despite frequent complaints. "So we have to come out with a compromise to control the pollution and not become obsolete," he said.

Teo, who sources the paper from China, said the team had to experiment with different types of paper to determine which material is the most eco-friendly.

Developing such products doesn't come cheap. Although they have not decided on a price for their Eco Hell Note, their eco-friendly products are slightly more expensive. A pack of 500 "Eco-friendly Gentle Smoke Joss Sticks" costs 11.50 Singapore dollars, or $8.50. In comparison, a pack of 500 traditional sandalwood joss sticks costs SG$10.

"Everything takes time and money. You need to do a lot of research and development," said Huang. Each phase will come with additional costs, and it will take time for the company to grow, he added.

Their Eco Hell Note is not yet available for purchase, but the pair hopes that it will take off among younger Singaporeans once they launch it in time for Tomb Sweeping Day, a tradition for honoring ancestors in April next year.

Heng, who researches Chinese religions, said their eco-friendly products would be better received by the younger generation, who are more eco-conscious. While they are not as religious, they may keep up the practice out of filial piety.

"It does still align with the demands of ritualistic burning, where a physical object is transformed into a spiritual one. It's a really good first step in finding solutions to burning joss paper," he said.

Beyond innovation, Teo hopes to expand the business to the Western market, specifically to those who engage in these religious practices.

"We will maybe tweak the design to cater to their taste. For example, come out with a hell note in US dollars," he said.

These are more experimental ideas, Teo said. "But we are still keeping in mind the tradition and culture. That's what we are trying to preserve."

• Floating fish farms used to be a common sight along Singapore's coast.
• But now, their numbers are dwindling: As of October, there were 74 sea-based fish farms left, down from 98 in 2023.
• Local farmers say they face high operational costs and cheaper imports from regional competitors.

Once a week, Alvin Yeo hops onto a small, white skiff at Lim Chu Kang jetty and heads out to a farm on the water owned by his dad.

It's a breezy five-minute journey that takes him past dozens of similar floating farms along the Straits of Johor, which separates Singapore from the neighboring country of Malaysia.

Formed by interlocking planks held together with thick nails and buoyed by floating barrels, these platforms are living relics of the country's fishing village past.

The sun is harsh on most days, but the water is surprisingly calm, save for the waves created by the passing coastal guard boats patrolling the area. Towering apartment buildings loom in the background, a stark contrast to the weatherworn wooden platforms bobbing in the water.

Yeo's father — a former civil engineer — has been in the farming industry for almost 30 years, having started a fish farm in the '90s with his brother out of passion.

"My father is a hobbyist. He likes to rear fish," Yeo, 35, told Business Insider. "But he's not exactly a businessman, so the farm wasn't really making any money."

For small businesses like theirs, it's a constant struggle to stay afloat. Amid rising costs, environmental challenges, and a growing reluctance among younger generations to take on the demanding job, traditional farming in Singapore almost feels like a sunset industry.

Yeo is a rare exception.

Dwindling fish farm numbers

Around 2020, Yeo — a freelance musician — decided to join the trade. Together with his father, the duo separated from the original business to start Heng Heng Fish Farm.

Like most traditional farms, the fish are reared in open-net cages lowered directly into the sea.

While his father oversees the farm's day-to-day operations, Yeo mainly handles the business side of things.

Yeo is also trying to adopt more modern and sustainable techniques to their traditional farm, such as using solar panels for energy and introducing pelleted feed, which pollutes the water less than typical fish feed made from expired confectionary and other food by-products.

"I just felt that I needed to do it because I have feelings for the sea I grew up in. So I didn't want to see it just deteriorate as years go by," he said.

Much like street peddlers and traditional villages, the floating fish farms are a part of Singapore's cultural and economic identity that is rapidly disappearing as the city-state evolves past its fishing village origins.

The country's "kelongs" — offshore wooden platforms used to trap fish — used to be a common sight along the coast. The government stopped issuing new licenses in 1965.

Now, there are only four "kelongs" left in Singapore.

"With the dwindling catch from the wild and increasing cost of raw materials for maintenance of the 'kelong,' 'kelong' owners also saw the need to move toward fish farming as a viable commercial operation," the Singapore Food Agency, or SFA, told BI in a statement, adding that some of them have transitioned to coastal fish farms over the years.

Many locals still refer to these floating fish farms as "kelongs," even though they're not quite the same thing, Yeo said.

Fish farms are dwindling in numbers too, even as the resource-scarce country inches toward the deadline for its "30 by 30" goal — an initiative set by the Singapore government to be able to produce 30% of its nutritional needs by 2030.

Tough to beat prices from regional competitors

According to SFA data, there were 74 sea-based fish farms left in Singapore as of October, down from 98 at the end of 2023. This means about a quarter of these farms have shuttered in the past year.

Some farmers told the local paper The Straits Times that they had between June 2023 and June 2024 to take up a grant of 100,000 Singapore dollars, or $74,500, from the SFA to help them wind down operations. Those who had accepted the grant cited high costs, environmental conditions, and retirement as reasons for exiting the industry. The SFA did not share with BI the number of farmers who accepted the grant.

"To be competitive in the market, you have to be cheaper than imports. But it's hard to fight the cost of imports, especially from places like China, Indonesia, and Malaysia," Yeo said.

The cost of running a business in Singapore tends to be higher compared to neighboring countries, Kevin Cheong, an adjunct lecturer at the Singapore Management University who recently co-authored a study on sustainable fish farming in Singapore, told BI.

"Electricity costs, land costs, labor costs, all these things stack up against the consumer," Cheong said. "Primary production in Singapore, essentially agriculture, would be very challenging."

In Yeo's farm, the tilapia he grows can be harvested in six months. At the current scale of his production, he can harvest 12 batches of around 7,000 fish each in a year.

Since the floating farms are made from wood, their structure requires regular upkeep — and a metric ton of Chengal wood can cost up to SG$4,000, Yeo said.

"We don't really earn much. At the end of the day, it's just enough to keep the farm running," Yeo said.

A challenging environment

Beyond cost constraints, farmers are bogged down by the effects of the climate crisis.

Rising temperatures can lead to a higher incidence of disease outbreaks and algae blooms, Toh Tai Chong, a senior lecturer at the Reef Ecology Lab at the National University of Singapore, told BI.

Algae blooms are deadly for fish because they deplete the oxygen in the water and cause widespread fish death, he added.

"Open-pen sea-based farms are particularly susceptible because the fishes are reared in the natural environment, which is almost impossible to regulate," he said.

Farmers, in turn, have to grapple with worsening conditions.

"In my dad's era, fish didn't really have to be taken care of," Yeo said, gesturing at the bags of fish pellets behind him. "You could simply feed them till they got big, then sell them. But now, you have to feed and raise them."

Dean Jerry, an aquaculture professor who teaches at James Cook University's Singapore and Australian campuses, told BI that to cope with the changing environment, sea-based fish farmers have to rear more hardy species or invest in aquaculture technologies.

Many of these solutions are focused on closed-cage containment so farmers have more control over the environment, he said.

The challenge is compounded by the fact that most sea-based farms don't have mains power, he said. This means farmers will end up incurring extra costs installing diesel generators or solar panels to run these systems, he added.

"It's very, very costly to implement any sort of technological solutions because a lot of technological solutions will require power," he said.

The challenging nature of the job seems to have discouraged younger locals from stepping up to continue the trade.

Yeo, who only knows of one other farmer around his age, has two employees — a husband and wife duo from Myanmar who work and sleep on the floating farm.

"Local help is just impossible to get," he said.

Efforts to stay afloat

To help farmers sustain their businesses, the local government has stepped in with plans to overhaul the aquaculture sector.

In November, the government announced its Singapore Aquaculture Plan. Some new initiatives include increasing the supply of locally produced, genetically superior eggs and facilitating the exports of local fish to China.

"Our fish farms, as part of local production, cushion us from overseas supply disruptions and complement our efforts to diversify import sources of seafood," said Damian Chan, the CEO of SFA, per a media release.

The SFA told BI in a statement that farmers who are keen to increase their farms' productivity can rely on the SFA for advice and funding support for technology adoption.

On the other hand, the Singapore government will support those who choose to exit the industry by providing job-matching and training initiatives, it said.

Despite uncertainties about the aquaculture industry, some young farmers are finding alternate ways to stay afloat. Wong Jing Kai, who left his marketing job a decade ago to run Ah Hua Kelong, is one of them.

"Farming is considered a sunset industry," said Wong, 35. "Nobody wants to do it. So I'm like, if people don't do, I'll do it then."

But instead of being a wholesaler and pitting himself against more competitive imports, Wong opened Scaled — a seafood restaurant — and a fish soup hawker stall, to move his fish stock.

He can support his farm by supplying his own fish to his eateries, he said. "My plan is to have five fish soup stores and three to four restaurants on land. Then, I think we're more or less covered," he said.

Others, like Yeo, believe that the industry will survive as long as local consumers become more receptive to eating local fish.

"Of course, I hope to grow the business and be in this industry for a long time," he said. He hopes to have a high-tech fish farm one day — ideally on land, where conditions are less unpredictable.

"I take each day as it comes," he added.

• Nicole Kidman said she considered giving up on acting after the birth of her third child in 2008.
• Her mom, however, encouraged her not to give it up completely.
• Kidman said she's inspired by other working moms who "keep going."

Nicole Kidman once almost gave up on acting.

In an extended interview with CBS posted on Sunday, the "Babygirl" actor reflected on moments when she thought of leaving her career.

"When I gave birth to Sunday, I was like, well, I think I'm pretty much done now," said Kidman, 57, who gave birth in 2008. At that time, she had moved to Nashville and was living on a farm.

But it was her mom who encouraged her to reconsider. "My mom actually said, 'I wouldn't give up completely. Keep a finger sort of, in it,' and I said, 'No, no, no, I'm done now.'"

Her mom had responded, "Just listen to me. I think, keep moving forward. Not saying that you have to do it to the level you've been doing it, but I wouldn't give it up completely," she recalled.

"And that came from a woman who obviously was from a generation that didn't have the opportunities that I had, but she had helped create for her daughters," she said. Her mom probably wished she had that advice when she was little, so she could give it to her and her sister, she added.

Kidman's sister became a lawyer in her 40s and has six kids, she said.

"It's fascinating to me that we both, and there are only two of us, just keep going. We're inspired when we look around at other women in the world who, at a particular age, do keep going," she said. "They are still raising their children, doing the things they love, but also have careers and not apologize for it."

Kidman shares two kids, whom she adopted with her ex-husband, Tom Cruise, and two daughters, who are 16 and 13, with Keith Urban.

In a recent interview with The Hollywood Reporter, Kidman said she thought her career was over when she turned 40.

"Things are changing now, don't you think? Doors are opening. People are living longer and there's more to be said, and more stories to be told," she said.

Returning to work after having kids

Allison Venditti, the founder of Moms at Work, an organization for working moms, previously told Business Insider that work can give moms meaning and provide structure to their day.

"Work is a familiar space — and for many women who have worked hard and studied hard, they don't want to not work," she said.

The most important thing, however, is for women to have the choice, she said. "Choice in how they approach work and family, choice to go back to work early, choice to take more time off," she added. In the US, paid parental leave is not guaranteed.

Katie Alexander previously wrote for BI that she felt judged when she chose to return to work eight months after giving birth. But doing so allowed her to be a better parent, she said.

"My daughter comes first, full stop. Shaming working mothers who have no other option — for whatever reason — helps no one," she said.

A representative for Kidman did not immediately respond to a request for comment sent outside regular business hours.

• Kylie Kelce said that there are toys she wouldn't want in her house on the latest episode of "Not Gonna Lie."
• Her 'please don't buy this for my children' gift guide includes toys with too much glitter and pets.
• Kelce's podcast topped the charts on Spotify and Apple after its premiere last Thursday.

If you're wondering what gifts to buy — or not buy — for kids this festive season, Kylie Kelce has got you covered.

On Thursday, during the second episode of her podcast "Not Gonna Lie," the media personality and wife of Jason Kelce shared her "brutally honest" gift guide for kids.

"I don't know about you guys, but I often see toys when I'm out shopping or scrolling social media, and I just think to myself, 'Not in my house,'" she said.

Referring to the list as her 'please don't buy this for my children' guide to holiday shopping, she recommended that other parents share it with "aunts, uncles, grandparents, friends — anyone who has asked, 'What can I get the kids for Christmas?'"

"This is your opportunity to have me deliver that harsh reality," said the soon-to-be mom of four.

1. Toys that require more than 5 minutes to assemble

When a kid sees a box with a picture of the toy, they will immediately want to play with it, the former field hockey player said.

"And you know what they're going to do the whole time you're trying to assemble it on a Christmas morning, a Hanukkah evening?" she said. "They're going to stand behind you and say, 'Are you done yet? Are you done yet?'"

"Don't do that to people. Let's not," she said.

2. Anything with too much glitter

As a mom of three daughters, all aged 5 and under, Kelce said that "pretty much everything" they get has glitter on it. "It makes their hearts so happy. I can't veto glitter as a whole," she said.

What she doesn't like about it is how glitter falls everywhere. "I need you to get something that glitter is sealed; I need it attached to that surface; I need it not leaving it," she said.

3. Toys with no volume control

Kelce said that when her daughter Wyatt was 2, she received an electronic drum set. However, it didn't come with volume control.

"I tried taping over the speaker, I tried putting it on a blanket when Wyatt wanted to play with it," she said.

She eventually retired the toy a week later but said the same person, Ed Kelce, her father-in-law, got her kid a new drum set the following Christmas. Thankfully, the new drum set did have volume control, she said.

"But there's still a lot of deep amount of guilt associated with the fact that I hid a Christmas gift from my child because I couldn't stand to listen to that damn thing for one more minute at the volume that it was playing at," she said. "I'm so sorry, Ed."

4. Anything with a heartbeat

Her kids have yet to be gifted a pet, but Kelce said she fears that when the time eventually comes, she will have to respond by returning it.

Calling it a "sick, twisted joke to gift," Kelce added that it's the parents who will end up taking responsibility for the pet.

"I'm already proud of myself when I can keep three children alive each day. I don't need to be working on any more pets, specifically pets that I have not chosen to bring into my household," she said.

5. Toys with too many pieces

"Once the kids start playing with toys that have a million pieces, I then have to go around and pick up all the little pieces," Kelce said. Eventually, pieces go missing, rendering the toys useless, and she ends up stepping on them, she added.

6. Toy weapons

Kelce said her kids have received a few toy weapons. On one occasion, her daughter, Elliotte, got "picked off" in the backyard by an airplane gun that Wyatt played with.

"So, they've proved that they have not earned the trust required to receive weapons, because they will try to take each other out, and I don't want to mediate any of that again," she said.

"Not Gonna Lie" dethroned "The Joe Rogan Experience" to take the top of the charts on Spotify Podcasts and Apple Podcasts after the release of its first episode last Thursday.

"It absolutely blew my mind," Kelce said at the beginning of her second episode. "I really appreciate you guys having such positive feedback, considering I'm still a rookie, and we're working out the kinks."

The podcast is produced by Wave Sports + Entertainment, the company behind her husband's podcast, "New Heights with Jason & Travis Kelce." In August, the brothers signed a three-year deal with Amazon's Wondery worth over $100 million.

Kelce previously opened up about her rise to fame following her marriage to former NFL player, Jason Kelce.

"As public figures, Jason and I know there's talk about our marriage, but we don't give much thought to it," Kelce previously told Business Insider.

"We use social media in a way that is authentic to us and I make a conscious effort not to offer us up for the opinions of others."

A representative for Kelce did not immediately respond to a request for comment sent by Business Insider outside regular office hours.

• In May 2023, Jennifer Kusch relocated to Dubai for a job opportunity.
• Her teen sons were initially against the move and said she was "ruining" their lives.
• But she says the experience of living abroad has brought them closer together.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jennifer Kusch, 47, who works in talent acquisition. Kusch moved from Idaho to Dubai with her kids in 2023. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

Early last year, my company approached me about a job opportunity in Dubai.

At first, I said no. I had just bought a house in Idaho, where I was raising three kids. As a single mom, moving to the Middle East sounded hard, so I declined. But my boss at the time encouraged me to apply, and I thought, "Fine, why not?"

I got the job and was set to start in 30 days. My daughter was 18 then, and my sons were 15 and 13. When they came home from school, I read them the book "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss and then said, "Guys, we're moving to Dubai."

My daughter was about to graduate from high school but was excited about an adventure. My 15-year-old, on the other hand, said, "You're ruining my life. My people are here. This is where I belong." And my 13-year-old echoed his brother.

The job commitment was for two years. I said, "We're going to go for two years. We're going to see what happens."

I remember crying in my bedroom after thinking, "Oh my gosh, I'm doing this selfishly. I want to do this for my career. Am I ruining my kids' lives?"

But then I thought about how many other teenagers must have said the same thing to their parents.

And so I had another discussion with my children a week later and said, "I hope that you can look at this as an adventure."

It was a big move for all of us

I had traveled outside the US but never lived abroad or been to Dubai. I traveled to the city alone last April while my kids were finishing the academic year.

When I arrived in Dubai, I tested out the public transportation so I could teach my kids how to ride the bus, hop on the metro, or take a taxi.

I found a townhouse-style villa away from downtown Dubai and spent six weeks furnishing the place so that all the kids would have to do was unpack their suitcases. My company provided an allowance to "settle in." While it didn't cover rent, it helped me set up a home for my family. They also covered the flights and most of my kids' school fees.

When I was done, I flew back for my daughter's graduation. I decided to sell everything I owned — apart from my house — as I didn't want to have to pay loads of money for storage.

Although my initial commitment was for two years, I was on a local contract and could stay in Dubai as long as I had a job. It was a calculated risk, selling everything and anticipating my love for living abroad.

In May 2023, I flew with my kids to Dubai. We arrived at the beginning of summer when many expats tend to leave the city because of the heat. The high temperatures in Dubai between May and August range from around 100 to 105 °F.

That summer, my kids didn't have any friends. However, they had one another. I was grateful for that.

Before I went to work, I said, "While I'm gone, I want you guys to make your bucket list of things you would like to do in Dubai."

When I got home, our wall was full of sticky notes with things to do. We planned fun outings, like visiting Warner Bros. World in Abu Dhabi and having an Emirati dinner. When we were done, we would move the sticky notes on the wall from "to do" to "done."

So, instead of sulking and being sad inside, we were excited about what we could discover.

My kids have benefited from living in Dubai

My sons now attend a school with an American curriculum, but they are the only American students. It has allowed them to meet people from all over the world.

They also have independence here that they never had in the US. My 14-year-old son will get in a taxi and go wherever he wants. There's freedom and safety that they have not experienced before.

This has all contributed to why they now love Dubai. On Thanksgiving last year, my older son said, "I'm so grateful that you moved us here." That was music to my ears because I've watched them grow up a lot.

Nothing is the same here. But they've navigated it with resilience, agility, and grace.

The experience brought us closer together

It can be lonely to be an expat in a new place.

But having to rely on each other and experiencing new things together have made us closer. My kids enjoy my company, and I am so grateful for that.

I miss my family and friends, and I know they would like us to come home. At this point, however, I love Dubai and our quality of life here.

My daughter has since returned to the US for work, and my sons will soon leave the nest as well.

I don't know what the future holds, but for now, Dubai is home.

• Ryan Reynolds opened up about the future of "Deadpool."
• He explained that producing the Marvel action-comedy "swallows" his "whole life."
• He added that he didn't want to miss out on spending time with his 4 kids, whom he shares with Blake Lively.

Ryan Reynolds is feeling the dad guilt.

On today's episode of Variety's "Actors on Actors" with Andrew Garfield, the actor opened up about balancing work and parenting.

When Garfield asked Reynolds what the future of "Deadpool" looks like, Reynolds said he didn't know. "My feeling is that that character works very well in two ways: one is scarcity and surprise."

"Deadpool & Wolverine" was released in July, six years after "Deadpool 2." "Deadpool" was first released in 2016.

Part of the reason for the six-year gap after "Deadpool 2" was because it "swallows" his "whole life," said Reynolds, who played the title character and was a producer and writer on the show.

"You can't take your hand off the stick all the way through development, through post-production, into marketing and promo," he said.

Reynolds has four kids, whom he shares with Blake Lively.

"I don't ever want to be on a first-name basis with any of them. No, I don't ever want to be absentee, and I don't ever want to miss stuff," he said. "I, like, kind of die inside when I see their face, and they have a competition or sports thing or something, and I missed it."

In August, Lively shared a similar sentiment on balancing work and family.

"When you're working, sometimes you feel guilty for, you know, not being in your personal life in those hours you're at work," Lively told Entertainment Tonight. "And then when you're at work, you feel guilty by being distracted by wishing that you were at your personal life," she said.

In February, the "It Ends With Us" actor said that she and Reynolds agreed "not to work at the same time" when they started dating.

Juggling work and family is "like a circus act with no intermission," well-being experts previously told Business Insider.

Veronica West, a psychologist and the founder of "My Thriving Mind," said that instead of dividing work and personal time into "neat, equal slices," she said that a better way is to think about it as "work-life rhythm."

"The trick is learning how to balance energy, not just time, so you're surviving and enjoying each part of your day," she said.

A representative for Reynolds did not immediately respond to a request for comment from BI sent outside regular business hours.

• David Martin and Harry Shen are chefs from St Vincent's Care, a nursing home in Melbourne.
• The chefs understand that not all nursing homes have the budget, but they hope to raise standards.
• Their efforts come as nations worldwide are facing aging populations.

David Martin can still recall the conversation that changed his career path.

He was 25 and had spent the past decade working in the restaurant and fine dining scene. The hours were brutal — up to 16 hours a day — and he was on the verge of burnout.

His parents brought up the idea of working in a nursing home. They had a cousin who worked in that industry and suggested he try it.

"I told them, 'Why would I want to go to aged care? That's where people retire. My skills will go to waste,'" Martin recalled. Still, with an open mind, he decided to give it a shot.

He hasn't looked back since. Martin, now 35, is an executive chef manager at St Vincent's Care, a nursing home facility in Australia.

By his side is Harry Shen, 39, a senior head chef who also left the restaurant scene to try something different. They share the same vision: to raise the standard of food in aged healthcare.

Apart from working under top chefs, including Donovan Cooke, Shen had also picked up shifts at Australian nursing homes in the past. It was during that time that he noticed frozen food was often the norm.

So when he saw a job posting from St Vincent's for a chef to elevate nursing home food, it stood out.

"This is something I also wanted to do. To change things," he told Business Insider.

A premium offering

With Shen on board, Martin and his team worked during the pandemic to reinvent meal plans at one of St Vincent's healthcare centers in Kew, a suburb of Melbourne. The facility doubles as an aged care home and a hospital.

It's a more premium nursing home option. According to St Vincent's Care's website, a stay at a standard room in the facility costs 171 Australian dollars a night, or around $111 — almost double the basic daily fee for nursing homes in Australia, which is AU$63.57. The room has an ensuite toilet, and residents can access a café, cinema, and hairdressing salon within the facility.

A typical meal plan at St Vincent's is as follows: In the morning, residents are offered a continental breakfast and a tea cake of the day. For lunch, they have a main with a selected sauce, a starch, and two vegetables.

They end the meal with a sweet — warmed apple coconut strudels on some days and a green tea cheesecake on others — then round the day up with an afternoon tea snack and a generous dinner selection.

"We want to break the stereotype that aged care food is just a lump of food on a plate," Shen said.

Cooking for older residents does come with certain considerations. In particular, the chefs have to look out for residents who have dysphagia, a geriatric syndrome that affects swallowing. According to the Mayo Clinic, 10% to 33% of older adults have dysphagia and can face malnutrition as a result.

As such, the chefs provide a range of options for residents with different needs so that everyone — even those who struggle to swallow — can enjoy a hearty meal.

Nursing home food on the world stage

Martin and Shen wanted to show the world that nursing home food can — and should — be just as good as restaurant food.

In 2023, they decided to compete in culinary competitions together. After placing in several local competitions, they were approached to apply for the International Salon Culinaire, one of the world's top competitions for chefs. Previous winners of the competition include Gordon Ramsey and Michael Deane, a Michelin-star chef.

In March this year, the duo competed alongside top chefs worldwide over the three-day competition in London. Their dishes included coconut rice pudding with crème brûlée and seafood paella — food they can serve at a nursing home.

They emerged with two silver medals. But more than the accolades, they hoped that people would focus on the message they were trying to send.

The chefs are well aware that not all nursing homes have the same luxuries of staffing and budgets to prepare premium meals. Still, it's about setting a standard, they said.

"We want to make this industry better for now and into the future for our parents and grandparents to be respected in," Martin said.

"The main thing is the frame of mind. The chef can be creative, whether it's adding a bit more garnish for presentation or baking things in-house rather than buying," he continued.

A graying world

Shen and Martin's efforts come as nations worldwide are graying rapidly. In October, the World Health Organization called for an urgent transformation of care and support systems for older people. They projected that 1 in 6 people will be 60 or older by 2030. By 2050, this number will double to 2.1 billion.

In the US, the aging of the baby boomer generation means that the number of Americans ages 65 and older requiring nursing home care could increase by 75% by 2030, a recent report by the Population Reference Bureau found.

That's where the importance of food comes in.

Dr. Andrea Maier, a professor of medicine at the National University of Singapore's Centre of Healthy Longevity, told BI that raising food quality is especially important in nursing homes, where people are often at the final stages of their lives and need nutrition.

"If they don't have an appetite, they're losing muscle mass, and their health is deteriorating. So food needs to be fun." When food is fresh and well-plated, it gives residents motivation to eat, she added. "It's a double positive."

Then there are the emotional impacts of having a good meal.

"When you're in a care home, life is relatively unrushed. Dining is one thing that I think people look forward to other than engagement activities," said Wee Shiou Liang, an associate professor of Gerontology at the Singapore University of Social Sciences.

"So, that experience is even more important."

Martin and Shen now collaborate as co-creative directors on menus in St Vincent's homes across New South Wales and Victoria. They also manage and mentor chefs in the region.

Neither chef intends to return to the restaurant scene. Seeing their impact on their residents has moved them to stay.

Working in end-of-life care, Martin said each meal, pastry, or salad could be the last dish their residents eat.

"And that's big to me because if you can give comfort to someone when they're in serious pain, that is a present to them," he said.

"They don't need to remember your name. They don't need to remember the dish. But if at that moment they realize they were at ease and were comforted by you — that's the heart of it."

• Mark Cuban learns about new technologies and trends through his teenage kids.
• Knowing about social media also allows the billionaire to connect with them.
• Cuban recently left "Shark Tank" to spend more time with his kids.

Social media may feel like unchartered territory to some parents — but Mark Cuban is leaning in.

In an interview with People posted on Thursday, the entrepreneur shared eight rules that he follows in life — including this one parenting tip.

"Number one, follow the scroll," Cuban, 66, said. "Oh my goodness, I learned so much from my kids. I learned what 'skibidi' is," he said, referring to the Gen Alpha lingo. "Skibidi Toilet" is an animated YouTube series about singing and dancing toiletlike creatures that want to take over the world.

Social media is an integral part of their lives, he added. "I keep on learning from them because they are exposed to all these new technologies."

Referring to himself as a "tech guy," Cuban said he tries to understand how social media algorithms influence his kids' lives.

Knowing about social media also helps him connect with them.

"They're in the car, and I'm driving my son. I can look over at a stoplight and see him scrolling through his Instagram or TikTok and know exactly what he's interested in," he said.

"Trying to be able to connect to him, which, like for any parent, could be almost impossible, but it's just informative," he added.

Cuban has three kids, who are 14, 17, and 21.

In May 2020, he posted a video on Instagram of him dancing with his daughters. "Teaching me to dance 😂😂😂," he wrote in the caption.

Last November, Cuban announced that he would leave "Shark Tank" after Season 16, which premiered in October on ABC.

"I'm leaving just to spend more time with my kids — they're teenagers now," he told The Wrap in October. "We shoot in June and September, and just getting the opportunity now when they're getting out of school to be able to spend time directly with them, that's important. I'm tired of missing that."

Cuban is not alone in using social media as a tool of connection.

Nina McCollum recently wrote for Business Insider that she uses TikTok and Instagram to communicate with her teenage son. They watch social media content together and have discussions about them.

"Politics, religion, science, life choices, and risk-taking are just some of the discussions social content has sparked," she wrote. "None of this connection would be happening if we didn't communicate through these videos."

A few celebrity parents have resorted to other means of connection.

"Modern Family" actor, Julie Bowen, said she hangs out around the house so her three teen sons know where to find her if they need her.

"If you just kind of park it, make fake cookies in the kitchen no one's ever going to eat, they start coming in and out. You start having conversations with teenagers," Bowen said in an October episode of "The Three Questions with Andy Richter" podcast.

Molly Shannon, a "Saturday Night Live" alum, advised parents of teens to change their attitudes about parenting in an interview on "Today with Hoda and Jenn." She added that they should have empathy when interacting with their teens.

"Most of the time, they just want to be heard. I try to think of that," she said.

Cuban did not immediately respond to a request for comment from Business Insider sent outside regular business hours.

• Khloé Kardashian said she tried to "close a lot of chapters" when she was 39.
• Kardashian, who turned 40 in June, called the process "shedding."
• Approaching midlife can be comparable to a second puberty, an expert previously told BI.

Khloé Kardashian prepared herself for her 40th birthday.

In an interview with Bustle published on Wednesday, "The Kardashians" star discussed her birthday milestone.

"When you're young, you think 40 is so old, and now I'm like, 'Wait — I feel so good!' said Kardashian, who turned 40 in June.

"I am in the best shape of my life. I'm doing new career stuff. I've only been 40 for about six months, but it's the absolute best. You don't give a shit about some of the stuff you once did," she added.

She said she intentionally "tried to close a lot of chapters" at 39.

"I called it shedding — shedding this decade of my 30s and this energy I wanted to leave behind," she said, adding that there are "so many new things" she's doing in her first year of being 40.

Turning 40 can be a daunting period. It's approaching midlife — a "biological regularity comparable to a second puberty," Hannes Schwandt, an associate professor of human development and social policy at Northwestern University, previously told BI.

"When you're young, you are typically overestimating what you're getting in the future," he continued. But not everything in life turns out the way we expect them to, and this can lead to disappointment, Schwandt said.

Aimee Pearcy previously wrote for BI that she felt disappointed when she hit the birthday milestone. "I always thought I'd be a millionaire by the time I turned 40, but here I was, living in a van, broke," she wrote.

However, she eventually came to terms with her age. "I realized that age is just a number," she wrote.

"Now that I'm in my 40s, I feel like my life is just beginning."

A representative for Kardashian did not immediately respond to a request for comment from Business Insider sent outside regular business hours.

• Brandon Chia and his wife felt like they didn't have enough time for their newborn in Singapore.
• They are both nurses and when they came across a job opportunity in New Zealand, Chia applied.
• Since moving, their quality of life has improved, Chia said.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Brandon Chia, 31, a nurse in the South Island of New Zealand. Chia moved from Singapore to New Zealand in 2022. The following has been edited for length and clarity.

In 2022, my wife and I had our first baby. We were juggling the demands of parenthood while working as ICU nurses in Singapore.

After 16 weeks of paid maternity leave — the standard amount for Singaporean mothers — my wife, Jiar Lin, and I started working alternate shifts to care for our newborn daughter.

I worked the morning shift, and she worked the afternoon. We would hand our baby over to each other and go out to earn money.

When our daughter was about to turn one, we realized we weren't spending enough time with her. We were always exhausted from work and didn't have time to enjoy time together as a family.

So, we thought, what other options can we consider? Quitting our jobs wasn't possible because the cost of living in Singapore was high.

At that time, we noticed many job advertisements on social media from Australia and New Zealand that were looking for ICU-trained nurses. My wife said, "Just apply and see how it goes." So, I did.

Within two weeks, I heard from the hospital. Two hours after my interview, I received a job offer. It all happened so fast. I remember thinking, "OK, this is getting real." My wife and I had a chat and then decided we'd give it a go.

Initially, our parents didn't want us to go. The flight from Singapore to New Zealand takes almost 10 hours. But we told them not to feel like we were abandoning them. Rather, it was a way for us to have more time for our daughter.

At the time, my parents were full-time caregivers for my late grandfather, while my wife's parents lived in another city. We knew we didn't want to ask them to look after our daughter on a permanent basis.

Our quality of life increased

In October 2022 — around four months after receiving the job offer — I moved to the West Coast of the South Island in New Zealand, a three-hour drive from Christchurch. My wife and daughter joined me seven months later once things had settled down.

The South Island feels like the countryside. There are no shopping centers near our house, and many people grow their own fruit and vegetables. We live in a nice community where people and colleagues often share their produce. I also started to learn gardening and now grow tomatoes in our backyard.

From the beginning, I noticed a big difference in the work culture. The environment is less stressful, and there's a lot of emphasis on not bringing work back home.

The shift patterns here are more regular. In one week, for example, I'll work the afternoon shift for three, and then the next week, I'll work a stretch of night shifts. In comparison, at my previous job, I sometimes worked a morning shift the day after completing an afternoon shift.

In New Zealand, my wife is able to stay home to care for both our daughter, who is now 3, and our 9-month-old son, who was born here. She says it's a privilege to be able to spend time with the kids in their formative years — that's the reason we moved to New Zealand. She plans to return to work on a part-time basis to keep her nursing skills up to date in the future.

My annual income increased by around 15% in New Zealand. However, income tax rates can go as high as 30%. In comparison, the national income tax in Singapore is 11.5% for salaries between SG$80,001 and SG$120,000, and lower for those earning less.

Although I make less overall after taxes, I get more cash on hand compared to Singapore. There's more flexibility because I don't have to contribute to the Central Provident Fund, a compulsory savings account in Singapore comparable in some ways to a 401(k) in the US. In Singapore, the account is mandatory and run by the government.

I also get more annual leave in New Zealand — around 25 days in total.

We get to spend more time together as a family

With more spare time, we get to take short monthly family vacations. Sometimes, we drive north to hot springs, down south to explore the rainforest, or to Christchurch to eat the Chinese food we miss.

In New Zealand, we can afford to have a car. Our decent secondhand Toyota was around $7,500. In comparison, a car in Singapore can cost more than $100,000. It's much more convenient than taking buses and trains everywhere.

The drawback is that we no longer have support from family members. We've made friends since moving here — most of whom we've connected with through our Instagram page. So, if we need help, we'll reach out to them. But of course, it's always a lot easier to reach out to family for help.

Raising kids in a less stressful environment

When I was in school as a kid in Singapore, there was a huge emphasis on doing well academically. Even when I was working as a nurse, I remember my colleagues getting together during lunch break to discuss national exam papers and the tutors they needed for their own children. I didn't even have kids then and was already aware of the stress it could cause.

In comparison, the focus here is more on character-building, outdoor adventure, and being close to nature. Hopefully, our children can pursue whatever dreams they want.

We rent a two-bedroom house in New Zealand for 340 New Zealand dollars, or around $200 a week. We've received our New Zealand residency, and our next goal is to buy a house.

Our plan for now is to stay in New Zealand and take trips home regularly to visit family.

• Mercer's Quality of Living City Ranking 2024 looks at factors such as political stability and healthcare.
• There were 12 Asian cities that made it into the top 100 in the rankings this year.
• Singapore was the only Asian city to make the top 50.

If you're considering moving to Asia, a new report can help determine which city would be the top choice.

Mercer, a human resource consulting service, recently released its yearly Quality of Living City Ranking, which ranks 241 cities across five continents. The ranking process considers factors such as political stability, healthcare, education, infrastructure, and socio-cultural environment.

In an era of remote work, the ranking also considered the cost of living in different cities.

Mercer said that the most "successful destinations" were those that "blend flexible governance around mobile talent with a high quality of life and an affordable cost of living."

Although many European cities were featured high on the list, with Zurich maintaining its top spot, 12 Asian cities made the top 100 this year. Singapore was the only city in Asia to make the top 50, at 30th position.

Take a look at the top 10 cities in Asia:

10. Abu Dhabi, United Arab Emirates (85th)

Abu Dhabi recently ranked second, with Dubai taking first place, among the most popular locations for executive nomads, according to the Executive Nomad Index by real estate firm Savills.

The capital of the UAE is known for its modern skyline and shopping megacenters. Expats make up more than 80% of its population, per InterNations, a Munich-based expat network.

9. Taipei, Taiwan (85th)

Taipei, the capital of Taiwan, is tied with Abu Dhabi at 85th. Between 2019 and 2021, Taiwan was ranked first out of 59 destinations in the InterNations Expat Insider survey for the job security expats enjoy and the state of the local economy.

Alex Teachey, a New Yorker who moved to Taipei in 2020, previously told BI that he enjoys the city for its affordability.

"I live a 20-minute bike ride from my office — I never could have afforded anything remotely similar if I'd stayed in New York City," he said.

8. Dubai, UAE (83rd)

Known for its glitzy skyscrapers and modern architecture, Dubai is also an expat hotspot. According to the Dubai Statistics Center, 92% of its 3,655,000-person population are non-Emirati.

Expats in Dubai previously told BI that they liked the city for its convenience and ease of making friends. "There are so many interesting and new people to meet here with different perspectives than we're used to," said Kiran Ali, who relocated to the city with her family earlier this year.

7. Seoul, South Korea (81st)

Seoul, the capital of South Korea, clearly has more to offer than just K-pop. With a population of 9.4 million, the city is popular for expats seeking affordability and a rich culture.

Besides Seoul, Busan was the second city in South Korea to make the top 100, ranking 100th.

6. Hong Kong (76th)

Hong Kong is known for being a global financial center with a thriving food scene. It is also one of the most densely populated cities in the world, with an overall density of around 17,311 people per square mile.

Kaitlyn Cheung, who moved from California to Hong Kong, previously told BI that she was impressed by the country's efficient public transport system and found the city to be diverse. "I routinely made friends from all over the world, which allowed me to broaden my horizons and learn about different cultures," she said.

5. Nagoya, Japan (74th)

Located in the center of Japan, Nagoya is the capital of Japan's Aichi Prefecture with a population of 2.3 million people.

LaJuan, a content creator, moved to a shoebox apartment in the city and pays $230 a month in rent. He appreciates the city's slow and simple pace of life.

"Nagoya, to me, is a perfect balance of both city life and just having some space for yourself," he told BI.

4. Osaka-Kobe, Japan (68th)

Osaka is a port city known for its nightlife and history. It's Japan's second-largest metropolitan area after Tokyo. Kobe, a city known for beef, is 22 miles from Osaka, or just 12 minutes away by the Shinkansen bullet train.

Grace Cheng, who visited Japan 11 times, said Osaka is ideal for foodies. "Whenever I go there, my sole mission is to eat," she told BI, adding that she recommends the city's tonkatsu and takoyaki.

3. Yokohama, Japan (58th)

Located less than 20 miles south of Tokyo, Yokohama is a port city with skyscrapers and is home to Japan's biggest Chinatown.

The district around Yokohama Station earned the top spot for livability in the Greater Tokyo rankings by Recruit Co., a Toyko-based human resource service, for seven consecutive years, per local reports. The same survey found that reasons for wanting to live in the area include the availability of cultural facilities and large-scale shopping complexes.

"Yokohama was so safe that I took public buses by myself at 8 to meet friends in different parts of the city," Alicia Erickson, who moved to the city as a kid, told BI.

2. Tokyo, Japan (56th)

The capital of Japan is home to over 14 million residents and is easily recognized for its neon-lit skyscrapers and busy streets.

David McElhinney, who moved to Tokyo in 2018, was surprised by cultural differences. He added that knowing how to speak a little Japanese goes a long way in the city. "Big cities — especially ones as dynamic, complex, and multifaceted as the Japanese capital — always bring new surprises," he said.

1. Singapore (30th)

Singapore, a small island nation in Southeast Asia, was ranked the highest among Asian cities on the list. Widely hailed as the "most expensive city," Singapore's foreign workforce makes up around 30% of its population of 6 million.

Nick Burns, who transferred from San Francisco to Singapore, said he appreciates the city for its affordable healthcare, safety, and hawker food. "I can't see us leaving anytime soon," he said.

• Jennifer Lopez plays the mother of NCAA wrestler Anthony Robles in 'Unstoppable.'
• Jennifer Lopez said she asked herself if she was enough for her kids when she was a single mom.
• She shares two kids from her previous marriage with Marc Anthony, which ended in 2014.

Jennifer Lopez said she wondered if she was enough for her kids.

In an interview with Entertainment Weekly published on Monday, the actor opened up about being a single mom.

"I've been a single mom at times in my life and [I've asked], 'Am I enough for them?'" said Lopez. "And the truth is, all you need is really one good parent to love you."

Lopez, 55, is the mother of 16-year-old twins Emme and Max, whom she shares with her ex-husband, Marc Anthony. The couple married in 2004 and divorced in 2014.

In the film "Unstoppable," Lopez plays Judy Robles, the mother of NCAA wrestler Anthony Robles.

The film, scheduled to stream on Prime Video on January 16, is based on the true story of Robles, who was born with one leg and went on to become a champion wrestler in college.

"You hear it in Anthony's voice, and look what he's been able to accomplish," Lopez continued. "That's what the movie gave me: You are enough."

In May, Lopez discussed raising teenagers on Live with Kelly and Mark. "I'm alone in this in the teenage years," she said, explaining that most of her close friends don't have kids. "So yeah, it's challenging, you know, but I love my kids, and they are so brilliant and lovely and beautiful, and I enjoy it."

Lopez, who is in the middle of a divorce from Ben Affleck, is not the only celebrity to have had questions about parenthood. In October, Hoda Kotb, who adopted two daughters, said she wondered whether she deserved her kids at one point.

"And I thought, 'I'll just work really hard to be really good, because I'm not sure,'" she said.

In April, Ashley Espinoza, who has a daughter, wrote for BI about the loneliness of being a single parent.

"I focus my attention on something I can control, like paying off my student loans, writing a book, and having fun with my daughter every chance I get, assuring her that one parent can be enough," she wrote.

Sheila Hageman, a divorced parent with three kids, wrote last year that she's learned to cut herself some slack.

"I'm giving myself the grace to recognize that the experts aren't living our lives and that I don't have to be a 'perfect' single mom but rather a good-enough mom who loves her family and is willing to be flexible and creative in the face of challenges," she wrote.

A representative for Jennifer Lopez did not immediately respond to a request for comment from BI sent outside regular business hours.