• Early Walker is the founder of W&W Towing.
• He grew it into a highly profitable business that was acquired earlier this year.
• A friend has helped him learn about money management and avoiding flashiness.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Early Walker, senior vice president of government affairs at Vehicle Management Solutions. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I've been working since I was old enough to swing a hammer. My dad was an electrician and preacher, and I worked afternoons with him since grade school. When I was 9 I started my own business, mowing yards and shoveling near my family's home on the West Side of Chicago.

Despite that, I didn't think I wanted to work for myself as an adult. Instead, I took jobs in sales, and later in government, but nothing seemed to work out. My family had shown me the value of being self-employed, and I couldn't unsee it. I didn't like knowing there was a cap on my income in a traditional job, or that someone else was profiting off my work.

I realized there was big money in government contracts

Even when I was working a traditional job I was dabbling in entrepreneurship. Around the time I was 30 — 10 years ago — I was part owner of a car dealership. I got tired of paying other people to tow our vehicles, so I bought a cheap $8,000 tow truck. It was from the early 1980s and had no AC or heat, but soon other people were calling me for tows.

I wanted to quit my day job, but I had to find a reason for people to hire me and my raggedy old truck. So, I started advertising a $40 local tow. That undercut all my competition, and I was still making a profit. My schedule filled up.

I realized the real money was in municipal towing contracts. There weren't really any Black people holding those contracts, so I saw an opportunity. I started meeting with mayors, especially Black mayors, to learn about what I would need to get those lucrative contracts.

Turns out I needed a much newer truck, more tow vehicles and drivers, and a large tow lot to store vehicles. I was determined to make it work, so I took out a 20-year lease on a lot, and formally started W&W Towing.

Within 3 years, my company was turning over $1 million

Launching and scaling the business was difficult because my credit was terrible. Back in high school, my strict dad didn't let me have a cell phone. So, I'd taken out a cell phone contract that I couldn't afford, and never paid the bill.

That ruined my credit and years later it was keeping me from being approved for vehicle and business loans. As I built the business I was also rebuilding my credit. No one had ever taught me the importance of credit, but now I understood it first hand.

That hard work paid off. Within three years of launching W&W Towing, the business was bringing in over $1 million a year. This year, the company was acquired, which meant a substantial payment for me. I don't like to talk about my exact net worth, but if I didn't want to work again, I wouldn't have to. I've been a millionaire for a couple years at this point.

My friend isn't afraid to teach me

As I've built wealth, I've learned that money is a tool. You have to make it work for you. I was never taught that, but it's a lesson I want to teach my five kids, who range in age from 2 to 16.

Like any tool, you need to be taught how to use money. At first I didn't realize the importance of having an accountant, a business bank account, and insurance. Later, I learned about high yield savings accounts and investments.

I have a close friend who is a multi-millionaire. He teaches me things I don't even know to ask about. Once he saw me paying for gas with my debit card, which led to a whole lesson about credit card points.

I've learned that when you can play with money, you benefit. If I want to splurge on something, I try to find an asset that can cover that expense. For example, investing in real estate gave me a new income stream that pays for travel, including a recent trip to Kenya for my 40th birthday.

Another passion of mine is philanthropy. Having money lets me support the same Chicago neighborhood that helped me get here.

I've learned money isn't loud, so I live humbly

I think it's easy to obtain money, but hard to keep it. A lot of people want to keep up with the Joneses, and I get the temptation. I'm selling my house right now, and my first instinct was to upgrade to something bigger. But then I realized that I could use the profits, along with some savings, to buy a more modest house with cash. Living without a mortgage is the better choice by far, and will improve my finances in the long run.

My rich friend always tells me "money isn't loud." The people who have the most don't wear or drive their wealth. They let their portfolio speak for itself.

• Paul Ollinger was Facebook's vice president of sales before he left the company.
• He grew up middle class with a scarcity mindset, he said.
• Today, he wants to teach his own kids about priorities and gratitude.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Paul Ollinger, author of "Reasonably Happy: The Skeptics Guide to Achievable Contentment." It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up one of six kids in Atlanta. When I was around 11, my dad was taking me to get my first cavity filled. I was super nervous, but my dad, it turns out, was thinking about money. As we walked in, he said, "Don't get the novocaine. It's $20."

That anecdote sums up everything about finances in my childhood home. My father worked for the power company, so he always had a job, but he was never rich. I had everything I needed, but scarcity was the subtext of our economic reality.

That's very different from how my own kids, who are 13 and 15, are being raised. I was one of the first 250 employees at Facebook. I left the company about 13 years ago, but due to good pay and stock options, I'll likely never need to work again as long as I make smart choices.

My son asked if we were hiring a private chef

That means my kids are growing up in a very different financial reality. When my son was 7, he came home from one of his even richer friend's house. He said, "When are we going to hire a chef?"

The reaction in my head is one I can't repeat here. I wanted to yell, "A chef? The only chef I grew up with was Chef Boyardee!" But I realized my son only knew what he sees.

I joked about sending my kids to middle-class camp at Grandpa's, where they had to face horrors like having a fan instead of air conditioning. I approach the difference between my upbringing and theirs with humor, but the truth is no one imagines raising kids in an economic situation that's so vastly different from how they were raised.

I want my kids to learn to prioritize financial decisions

One book that's helped me greatly is "The Opposite of Spoiled" by Ron Lieber. He talks about the importance of giving kids allowance, because that allows them to make mistakes with small amounts of money.

My wife and I give the kids a modest monthly allowance. That means we don't have to talk with them about money every day, and they weigh up whether they really want something, like a new soccer ball.

It's important to me that the kids know that money isn't in endless supply. If they buy X, they might not have enough money to buy Y. Although I have substantial wealth, I still prioritize my financial decisions.

For example, I could fly private, but that would require me to work in a traditional job to have more income coming in. Yet, it's more important to me to be able to do the type of work I enjoy, comedy, which happens to pay less. I value professional flexibility more than the status of flying private or the joys of getting to skip TSA, so I prioritize that.

Financial security has let me chase my dream

I've loved comedy since I first got onstage at Dartmouth College during grad school. My parents paid for college, but I had $80,000 in student loans for graduate school back in 1997. That financial reality meant that I had to take a traditional job in the tech world rather than chase my dream of being a comedian.

After working in tech for a few years and paying off my student loans, I quit to pursue comedy full time for two years. My standard of living was still good because I had a lot saved. But when I met my wife and knew we wanted kids, I returned to the tech world because I wanted more financial security than life as a standup comedian could give me.

Working at Facebook ended up being a bigger home run than I could have ever imagined. I remember saying to my wife, "This might be as big as MySpace one day." I couldn't even imagine how big Facebook would become or the changes it would bring to my life.

Now that I spend time writing jokes about my financial situation and talking about money on my podcast, I've realized that happiness comes from making a choice to be grateful, not from a number in your accounts.

• Kelsea Myers, 20, traveled throughout North America during her freshman year of college.
• She took online classes while staying in hostels.
• Eventually, she wanted to have a more typical college experience.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Kelsea Myers. It has been edited for length and clarity.

My parents have always been clear that I would need to pay for college. During my senior year I was applying to schools and realizing I could easily graduate with $200,000 or more in debt for my undergrad degree. That gave me a lot of financial anxiety.

I had a bit of a breakdown with my parents about it during the spring of my senior year. I knew I wanted to go to college and then law school. I wasn't interested in a gap year. I also wanted to get far away from my hometown in Missouri. The University of Hawaii was at the top of my list of schools, but it was just too expensive.

My stepmother is great at thinking outside the box, and she had an idea: I could enroll in online classes at the University of Missouri, my state school, to keep costs low. Then, instead of paying for room and board, I could travel. I thought it was a brilliant idea, but I was nervous. I booked a plane ticket before I could change my mind.

I traveled the US, Canada, and the Caribbean

My first stop was in Portland, Oregon. I also visited Seattle and San Diego. Once I worked up my confidence to travel internationally, I went to British Columbia, Canada. Then, I headed to the Caribbean, where I took my finals in an Airbnb on the beach while the waves crashed and sand crabs scuttled across the floor.

I stayed at each place for about three weeks, so by the end, I felt a bit like a local. I created a routine where I would wake up and do a few assignments. Then, I'd use the daylight to explore the city. At night, I'd listen to my lectures and do more school work in the hostel or a nearby café.

I had to pay a lot of attention to school work and not get distracted by travel or the party atmosphere at some of the hostels. I'm pretty studious, so that wasn't too much of a challenge. I was upfront with my professors about my travel, and they didn't have a problem. The trickiest part was making sure I submitted everything on time when I was in a different time zone. I also learned not to do assignments at the last minute because sometimes the internet access was unreliable.

People assumed my parents were paying for my travel

My peers were mostly supportive of my choice, but they had questions. They thought I might be lonely, but I met so many people. There were lots of Europeans in the hostels I stayed in. Many were in their mid-20s, so it was easy to connect.

People assumed my parents were paying for my travel, but they weren't. Scholarships covered a lot of my tuition. I took subsidized student loans through school, which paid for the rest of my tuition and some travel. I also used the money I had saved while working.

I never ran out of money because I budgeted meticulously. I knew I had a set amount of money each week, so I made compromises on how I spent it. For example, when I went to the Space Needle in Seattle, I cooked for myself the rest of the week to make up for the money I spent. I also scoured the internet for flight deals and stayed in hostels that were affordable but safe.

I wanted to try living closer to school after a year

Throughout the year, I came home for holidays or if I needed a quick two-week break between destinations. I loved the way travel helped me see new places, meet people, and learn about myself.

At the same time, I also wanted to try a more typical college experience. Plus, I was worried about money. I wanted to minimize my loans, and living in one place would let me pay for school by working rather than taking on debt.

I returned to Missouri and got an apartment off campus with friends. I went to football games and frat parties and had those traditional experiences that I had sometimes worried about missing out on.

One thing didn't change: I stayed enrolled in online classes, which gave me flexibility to work.

I'll never regret traveling during freshman year

I'm on track to graduate this spring, completing my undergrad in just three years. I still budget travel. My best friend and I went to London and Paris for spring break. I adored it and couldn't believe my classmates were partying on a beach while I was seeing the Mona Lisa.

Lots of people say they never would have thought to travel during college. I thought there was only one way to do college until my stepmom urged me to think outside the box. I'm glad she did because I learned so much.

• Dr. Ferdinando Mirarchi has practiced emergency medicine for more than 25 years.
• He's seen many misunderstandings about end-of-life medical wishes.
• Families can start the conversation, but professional input is critical, he said.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Dr. Ferdinando Mirarchi, DO, founder and CEO of MIDEO Health. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When I was a medical intern, I was in the intensive care unit one day when a 55-year-old mother went into cardiac arrest. I ran in to shock her heart back to life when the nurses started waving papers at me. The woman had signed a "do not resuscitate" order, they said.

I was paralyzed. This lady was dying in front of me, and I knew I could save her quickly. Luckily, a cardiologist rushed in and restarted her heart. She eventually went home to her family.

A few years later, during my residency at a trauma center, a man in his 60s came in, very ill. He was septic and unresponsive, but I thought, "I'm not going to make that mistake again." I started treating him aggressively until his wife came in and told me he had end-stage cancer and was in hospice. He just wanted to die without pain.

I realized that end-of-life care was a mess

I had made a life-and-death mistake on both sides. I had withheld treatment from a young, relatively healthy mom but over-treated a man who didn't want aggressive intervention and would die anyway.

That's when I realized that end-of-life care was a complete mess in our medical system. I started researching end-of-life wishes and wrote a book about living wills, which convey medical wishes. I conducted more research on how often people's wishes are misinterpreted or misunderstood and eventually created a video-based advanced directive, which conveys your wishes if you're unable to speak.

The issues around "do not resuscitate" orders (DNRs), advanced care directives, and living wills are complex and systemic. Still, we can't shy away from conversations about medical wishes with our loved ones. Here's how to have impactful discussions, and may reduce the risks of misinterpretation.

Recognize this is a hard conversation

There's a misconception that talking about medical wishes can be simple, but it's not. This is a hard conversation to have over a holiday dinner, asking Mom about her death and then saying, "Please pass the mashed potatoes."

Still, the holidays and family gatherings can be a spot to start the conversation without getting into the nitty-gritty details. People avoid this conversation because taking action is hard, so even a small step forward is helpful.

Focus on safety, not death

Death can be scary. So, instead of starting the conversation focused on end-of-life issues, center it around patient safety. Say something like, "Mom and Dad, we want to do what's right for you and make sure we're keeping you safe." Then, have a conversation about what safety means to each of you in a medical or care setting.

Set aside the idea of long-term life support

Some people think this conversion is black and white: do you want life support or not? But there's a lot more nuance. While most people say they don't want to live on machines, that doesn't mean they should sign a DNR.

For example, if you have a heart attack, there are simple procedures that can save your life without impacting future quality of life. When you take the idea of long-term life support off the table, you can have a more detailed conversation about what your loved one really wants.

When in doubt, err on the side of intervention

Many times, life support can be used as a bridge while you learn more about someone's condition. Remember, you can always start treatment, then decide to stop it. The opposite is not true—you can't bring people back.

Put your opinions aside

Always keep the patient at the forefront, and emphasize that their healthcare is their decision, up to the end. You can say something like, "If you want aggressive care and treatment, that's fine, but if you want something else, that's OK too." Many older patients are comfortable with death, but they never want to feel pushed toward decisions like signing a DNR.

Revisit the conversation

Choices around medical care look different as your life changes. I have an older mother and a 55-year-old brother who already went into cardiac arrest once and needed a life-saving bypass operation. As their health evolves, we update their wishes at least once a year. These are not one-and-done conversations.

Talk with a doctor

The choices around end-of-life care are very intense and nuanced. You may think you're being clear, but to make sure your wishes are followed in an emergency, you must present them in a way that clinicians can follow when they only have seconds to decide what to do. As part of my practice, I now help patients and their loved ones articulate their wishes using the specific terms that physicians use.

After more than 25 years in emergency medicine, I've seen the problems with end-of-life care, but with more informed conversation and better means of communication, I'm confident we can reduce ambiguity and misinterpretation.

• Sophie Kihm is the editor in chief at Nameberry.
• She says parents choose names they like, without worrying about what others think.
• Chappell Roan and Beyoncé are impacting trendy names for 2025, too.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sophie Kihm, the editor in chief at Nameberry. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Working at a baby naming site, I see how much thought parents put into naming their kids. In the past, there's been a lot of pressure to consider what other people, and society as a whole, will think about a name. But for 2025, parents are confidently choosing names that they like without worrying about others' opinions.

Here are the top six trends I'm seeing and 58 baby names that will be right at home in the new year.

New and unique names

These new and unique names are really trend-driven. They synthesize different elements of historic names that parents find interesting and put their own unique spin on them.

These names aren't just invented, and they're no less legitimate than well-established names. They're putting a fresh spin on names rooted in history, giving parents and their babies the best of both worlds.

Names for boys include:

• Luxton
• Jakai
• Kyaire
• Aven
• Ryett, pronounced like "riot," but spelled with a softer touch

Names for girls include:

• Evani
• Hollyn
• Mayli
• Scottlynn
• Novalie

Names for world travelers

For a long time, American names were those steeped in English or Germanic tradition. But now, we're seeing a rise in distinctly American names that also reflect a family's specific cultural or ethnic background. These are also names that "travel lightly" and can be easily pronounced and understood in multiple languages.

Names for boys include:

• Elio
• Kenzo
• Luca
• Hassan
• Soren

Names for girl include:

• Adalia
• Leilani
• Oona
• Eleni
• Akira

Cutesy names

For a few years, we saw parents gravitating toward names that felt a bit mature for a baby. Lots of parents were reminded they were naming an eventual adult, not just a baby. But in 2025, parents are taking the opposite tact: they're embracing cutesy baby names, and they're not worried that a lighthearted name will hold their kid back.

Cutesy names for boys include:

• Bash
• Sonny
• Cub
• Koda
• Albie

Cutesy names for girls include:

• Blossom
• Echo
• Dolly
• Georgie
• Aqua

Vintage names coming back

These classic names will eventually become beautiful and beloved. Think of the vintage names that haven't quite been revived yet. Parents in 2025 are ready to lean into those names, even if they're not quite ripe for revival.

Names for boys include:

• Howard
• Murry
• Morris
• Oswald
• Virgil

Names for girls include:

• Ethel
• Enid
• Rita
• Sybil
• Louis

Country rebrands

Modern parents love country-inspired names, but they're taking a more inclusive look at what it means to be country. This is inspired in no small part by Beyoncé's foray into country music this year. There's also a new spin on classics, like the all-in-one name Jessejames, after the infamous outlaw.

Country rebrand names for boys include:

• Santos
• Abner
• Enoch
• Hatcher
• Lyle

For girls, they include:

• Dottie
• Opal
• Susannah
• Lou
• Polly

Femininomenal Names

Another artist who's shaping naming trends is Chappell Roan. I haven't (yet) seen a surge in little girls named Chappell or Roan, but I'm seeing more parents leaning into feminine names that are witchy, gritty, and powerful, just like Chappell Roan's music. These are also names that reimagine the stories of women in history or lore, like Circe and Guinevere.

Other femininomenal names include:

• Amaryllis
• Cosette
• Freyja
• Lilith
• Salome

Parents naming babies in 2025 are questioning what they've been told and embracing the fact that they can choose a name that they love. It's ok to them that there are complexities to names — which matches the complexities of the people who wear them.

• Jennifer Takos was in the intensive care unit for three weeks after her son was born.
• After she was diagnosed with a rare disease, she felt a close bond with her doctors.
• She was shocked to see the doctor who saved her life when she moved her son to college.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Jennifer Takos. It has been edited for length and clarity.

After my son John was born, I was relieved that he was healthy, and I was healthy, too. Or at least, that's what I thought.

I had a planned C-section at NYU Langone Health. The night before I was set to be discharged, my husband Dimitri went home to spend time with our daughter, who was 2. We wanted her to be ready when we brought home her little brother.

That night, I started having difficulty breathing. I started pacing the halls, almost like I wanted to get some air. I stopped at the nurses' station to let them know something wasn't right. Then, suddenly, everything went very wrong.

My lungs had filled with blood

I don't remember much after that. There were so many doctors and nurses standing above me. Later I learned that the doctor called Dimitri and told him to get to the hospital immediately.

I had lost the ability to breathe, and doctors determined that my lungs were filled with blood. But they didn't know why that was happening. For three weeks, my husband, brother, and father were close by in the hospital as doctors in the intensive care unit worked to save my life.

Eventually, I was diagnosed with a rare autoimmune disease: ANCA-positive vasculitis. It had been triggered by childbirth. Doctors stabilized me enough to send me home, but I was very sick for the early years of John's life. I ended up in the ICU five more times.

I regularly visited the doctor who saved me

Because of that, I became very close with my doctors. Dr. Ronald Goldenberg, a critical care specialist, had told my father, "I'm going to save your daughter." He did that not just after John's birth but each time I was back in the ICU.

When I went to the hospital for a checkup, I would visit Dr. Goldenberg. There's just no way to explain the connection and gratitude you feel when someone not only saves your life but does it in such a compassionate way.

Eventually, about 13 years ago, I moved away from New York and lost touch with Dr. Goldenberg. My dad still kept in touch with him occasionally, sending him a box of chocolates each year on the anniversary of the first time Dr. Goldenberg saved my life.

I didn't see him again until my son's college move-in date

Over time, my health stabilized, although I'm still on medications. John grew up. After graduating from high school, he took a gap year to play hockey. Then, he enrolled at Indiana University to study business.

As we pulled up to his dorm, I saw a familiar face. John was driving, and I practically leaped out of the car, saying, "Dr. Goldenberg?"

It was more than a coincidence. Dr. Goldenberg's son, Jake, is a year younger than John, but they're both studying business and were assigned to the same dorm. On a day when thousands of families were moving their children in, we happened to pull up just when they were out front. I know, for sure, it was meant to be. I felt a peace, knowing that John was exactly where he was supposed to be.

Recently, Dr. Goldenberg visited Jake. They met up with John and sent me a picture. Through this experience, John has learned more about my health condition and just how terrifying the weeks after his birth were. For me, reconnecting with Dr. Goldenberg is a reminder of why I have this beautiful life: because of him and the rest of my amazing healthcare team.

• Trina Read got her doctorate degree in sexology 23 years ago.
• She has two sons, who are 15 and 17.
• Parents should tailor their approach to talking about sex to each child, she said.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Trina Read, a sexologist and cohost of the Sensational Sex podcast. It has been edited for length and clarity.

When people learn that I'm a sexologist, they think that I'm an expert in talking to my kids about sex. Unfortunately, that's not the case. If I'm talking to clients about their sex lives, there's distance and objectivity. When I'm talking with my sons, who are 15 and 17, that goes out the window.

Still, I know I have an advantage over many parents. I'm lucky that my sons and I have had ongoing conversations about sexuality and sex for years. Some of those talks have made me squirm, but I'm glad we can have them. Here are the tips I've used to keep the conversations flowing.

Accept you're never fully ready for this conversation

Almost every time my kids bring up something they need to discuss, my attention is focused elsewhere, like on work or my long to-do list. My first response, internally, is usually, "You want to talk about this now?!"

But I have to remind myself that it doesn't matter how uncomfortable or inconvenienced I feel. When your child brings something up, you have to compartmentalize everything else and meet them where they are. If you delay the conversation the moment might be gone, and next time they might not be brave enough to ask.

Create a space for conversation

Each day, I take a 20-minute drive with the boys to school. Over time, the car has become our safe place to talk about tough topics, including sex. My sons know what's talked about in the car stays in the car, so they feel safe to ask me anything and everything.

The car is a great place for difficult talks since there's no need for eye contact, and no one can get up and leave. However, your safe space might be on a walk, at home, or while doing an activity you both enjoy. The key is to find out what works for you and your kids.

Keep their trust

Oftentimes, it's just me and the boys in the car. They might tell me something that they're not comfortable telling my husband. I have to respect their wishes, even if it sometimes means keeping secrets from their dad. I don't like that dynamic, and it feels like a heavy weight, but the trust my sons have in me is worth it.

Tailor your approach to each child

One of my kids is a very analytical thinker, who likes data, research, and methodical conversation. The other is a free spirit who isn't afraid to take a deep dive into any topic. Because of that, they need two very different approaches to talking about sex.

For my analytical child, I might leave books about certain topics in his room, and then broach conversations about them later. My free spirit, on the other hand, will shut down a conversation if I try to start one. I have to wait for him to bring it up, then we can go deep.

Find the approach that's best for your child, and remember that siblings might need entirely different tactics. Give information in a way that's comfortable for them, even if that's not the most comfortable for you.

Keep answers short and sweet

As parents we feel a lot of pressure to impart knowledge to kids before they start being influenced by their peers, the internet, and other social forces. Because of that, I sometimes found myself rambling. Over time, I learned to say less, which seems to keep my sons more informed and engaged. Now I just say what needs to be said, then stop.

Pause and clarify for questions that seem too mature

At one point, my sons were asking questions that I felt were beyond their maturity level. I said, "I could tell you the answer, but I don't think you're ready for the answer." They continued to ask and beg, so I told them, to some awkwardness and embarrassment for both of us.

Now, when I say something is beyond their maturity, the boys consider truly consider that response. One of my sons usually decides to hold off on the conversation, while the other prefers to still get the information in an age-appropriate way.

Accept that you'll have frustrations

Sometimes my sons have misconceptions, shame, or guilt around sex and sexuality. It's incredibly frustrating as a mom who's worked really hard to not pass guilt or shame, and to make them well-informed about sex.

When this happens I try to clarify with facts, research, and information. But to be honest, it doesn't always work. That can be disheartening, but I'm glad to be able to engage in on-going conversations with them.

• Holiday school vacations can be difficult for working parents.
• Experts would like to see more flexible work schedules and four-day workweeks.
• Year-round schooling could also help alleviate pressure, they say.

Even before November started, I was stressed about the number of days my kids had off over the coming two months. There was Veterans Day, Thanksgiving break, winter holidays, and even a teacher in-service day thrown in for good measure. Then, my first grader missed 10 days of school due to pneumonia, and my fifth grader was struck with a stomach bug.

My husband and I are both self-employed, so with some wrangling, we were able to create a schedule that allowed us to meet our deadlines despite the kids being home seemingly constantly.

We're lucky to be able to do that. And still, I kept thinking, "There must be a better way." So, I reached out to four experts on the workplace, policy, and sociology to see how we can better align the schedules of working parents and kids. Here's what they envision.

Make flexible work policies the norm

Courtney Murphy, founder and CEO of WorkWell People Solutions, would like to see flexible work arrangements become the norm. She says they not only benefit parents and others with family obligations — they also serve employers by increasing productivity and job satisfaction while reducing burnout.

"The ideal scenario for working parents combines hybrid work with flexible hours, focusing on outcomes rather than time spent," Murphy said. "The key is to shift from managing employees' time to managing their work, holding them accountable for results rather than hours logged."

A sample policy might say something like, "Employees are empowered to manage their work schedule to meet both personal and professional responsibilities, provided all job duties are fulfilled, and team collaboration is maintained. Regular communication and coordination with managers about scheduling is expected." If set work hours are important, the company could add, "Official operating hours are 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. Employees should align with these where practical."

This approach would be tricker for service professionals, but Murphy said "creative solutions like automated services during peak family times, staggered schedules, or job-sharing could provide the necessary flexibility" for those parents too.

Adopt a 4-day work and school week

Joelle Moray, author of "What Are We Doing?! Radical Self-care for the Hustle Culture," says, "A world where the four-day week exists for both employees and their families is a world I very much want to live in."

In her ideal scenario, students would complete their education during four longer school days, which better aligns with parents' traditional 9-5 work schedules. Some employers are already pivoting to a four-day workweek, and those that are unable to could offer remote work where possible, she said.

Melissa Loble, chief academic officer at Instructure, an education technology company, would also like to see a four-day academic week, with an optional fifth day with a more flexible structure.

On that day, students "could engage in sports activities, work-study, internships, or other types of activities that can be coordinated through the school."

This approach would provide supervision during the workday while also giving "students a 'breather' day where they feel less pressure from the hectic school day and pursue their non-academic pursuits," Loble added.

Choose year-round school

Margaret M. Quinlan, a professor and director of Health & Medical Humanities at the University of North Carolina at Charlotte, has a two-part solution: year-round schooling and remote work after 2 p.m.

A flexible afternoon schedule "would maximize quality time with family while still fulfilling work responsibilities," Quinlan said. It would also be handy for parents like her who need to take their kids to many therapy appointments in the afternoons.

She added that the US could also pivot to a shorter summer break, following countries like Australia and Japan.

In addition to reducing the challenge of finding and paying for summer childcare, "This would minimize summer learning loss and ensure that kids have access to nutritious meals and care during these breaks," Quinlan said.

• Sophie Musumeci excelled in the corporate world despite not finishing high school.
• She became a millionaire before her 40th birthday by focusing on being debt-free.
• She enrolls her kids in entrepreneurial classes and resists the urge to buy them things.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sophie Musumeci, founder of Real Entrepreneur Women. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I grew up in a rural part of South Australia, where my dad was a tree harvester. My mom mostly stayed home but worked seasonally at vineyards. In my community, there was a lot of bartering: my dad would swap service instead of money, like giving neighbors a load of firewood in exchange for help shearing sheep.

There wasn't a big emphasis on education. By the time I was in 11th grade, my school asked me to leave because I wasn't attending classes. It just wasn't a priority. It was normal for kids to leave school in grade 10 or 11, get a job, get married, and have a baby.

I started working three jobs when I left school: at the local vineyard, in retail, and at a pub. That's when I realized that the more I worked, the more I could earn. That unlocked something in me.

I climbed the corporate ladder even without degrees

When I was 18 I moved from my home to the Gold Coast, a much more metropolitan area of Australia. Despite not having a high school or college degree, I started working for a major international corporation and climbed the corporate ladder. I doubled my income every few years and was soon earning $250,000 Australian dollars (about $161,000 US dollars) a year.

When my husband and I decided to have children, we thought we'd do what all our friends were doing. Most families in our circle had two parents with corporate jobs and a nanny. We tried that at first, but when I came home and realized my son had more of the nanny's mannerisms than mine or my husband's, I knew I wanted a different option.

I became a millionaire by focusing on being debt-free by 40

When I was 32, I started my business. At first, the business was a financial drain: I had not only lost my corporate income, but I was pouring money into the business. I felt financially dependent on my husband. We had always agreed to keep finances separate, and I had to ask him for money to get my hair done. It was quite humiliating, to be honest.

All the while, I had a goal: be debt-free by 40. When I told my husband this, he laughed. We had just bought a home in Sydney, where the real estate prices rival New York City. Paying that off seemed, well, laughable.

Luckily, my business did well. It grew slowly over time, but then, in 2021 had a big leap after I found a great mentor. The business started having $100,000 AUD (about $65,000 USD) months and never went back. Just before my 40th birthday we paid off our primary residence, the last of our debt. I was a millionaire.

My kids are enrolled in an entrepreneurship school

Now, I'm 42. Money and time are never problems for me. In the corporate world, I made $250,000 AUD, working about 50 hours a week. I have more cash flow and work about 22 hours a week. My lifestyle is completely different, and I'm able to be there more for my kids.

That's the promise of entrepreneurship. Both my kids, who are 12 and 10, are enrolled in a business school for kids that teaches them about founding companies. They spend about 90 minutes each weekend studying business, and it has a real impact on their lives.

Recently, my 12-year-old made $30 from his babysitting business. He was excited about the money and also about how much fun he had. That is the dream: to be paid really well for something that gives other people value and that you enjoy. I want my kids to think differently about how they can achieve that.

I'm teaching the kids to save and invest, even when I want to buy them things

Since neither my husband nor I grew up with a lot of money, it's really important to us that our kids know how to manage money and grow wealth. We don't want them just waiting on an inheritance, which we see from some friends who have generational wealth.

We're teaching them, starting with allowances and gifts. All monetary gifts from birthdays or Christmas are put into a savings account, and we're now teaching the kids about investing that money. They also get $20 a month for completing basic chores like taking out the trash. They can use that money for impulse buys like candy or save it, which my son recently did for a new Nintendo game.

Sometimes, I just want to buy them candy or games. I stop myself because letting them understand the value of their money is an important lesson. Hopefully, it will keep them from being financially dependent on me and allow them to grow their wealth long term.

• Sheri Atwood became a millionaire in her 20s, and again in her 40s.
• After reassessing what she was spending on, she decided to prioritize her daughter's education.
• She gave her daughter an allowance to teach her about money and had her pay for her own things.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sheri Atwood, the founder and CEO of SupportPay. It has been edited for length and clarity.

The first time I became a millionaire, I was 24. I was a vice president in corporate cyber security, making $450,000 a year — more money than I ever could have imagined growing up poor.

Despite my wealth, I wasn't happy. I was married and had a 4,000-square-foot house near the California vineyards. When I was poor, I always thought money and material wealth would make me happy, but I was absolutely miserable.

Soon after my daughter Janicya was born, I got divorced. I was a single mom, like my own mother had been, but I was in a very different financial situation. I wanted to be smart with my money, investing to create a solid financial foundation for my daughter.

I spent $43,000 a year on private school

With that in mind, I started to reassess what I was spending my money on. My big house was stressing me out, and I realized I'd rather live in a townhouse with less maintenance. I didn't buy new clothes or cars. Even now, I drive a Lexus, but it's 17 years old.

Instead, I spent on my daughter's education. I only escaped poverty because of my master's degree and knew I would never regret investing in Janicya. I put her in an expensive and wonderful private school, paying $43,000 a year in elementary school tuition and even more than that as she got older. Because that was my choice alone, my ex didn't contribute to tuition.

Teaching my daughter financial literacy was critical

When Janicya was 7, she had emergency brain surgery. My job required tons of travel, so I quit my corporate role to start my own company. It was self-funded, and although I was financially stable, I wasn't a millionaire anymore. I reached that status again about four years ago, in my early 40s.

I was always of two minds about my daughter and money. I wanted her to understand the value of money, and I also wanted to give her access to everything I never had.

Teaching Janicya financial literacy was a way to do both. I never learned about credit, or interest, or how to leverage other people's money (via loans and investment) to build your wealth. My mom declared bankruptcy, and my sister had multiple bankruptcies. I wanted Janicya to have access to the same financial knowledge as her private school peers who had generational wealth.

I gave her allowance to teach her the value of money

I also wanted Janicya to learn day-to-day money skills. I gave her an allowance that's meant to pay for incidentals, like Starbucks or fancy new cups. I taught her we can't always keep up with others — especially those at her private school. When she wanted an expensive purse, I showed her I didn't even have one.

Sometimes, however, I bent the rules. As a single mom running a business, it was sometimes easier to give her money to go out with her friends because I just needed some downtime. Once, she had a chance to travel to Puerto Rico with a friend's family. I paid for that because it was an opportunity I would have loved as a teen.

Today, my daughter works hard and tells me when to scale back

Still, I tried to make Janicya understand the value of money. When she was 16, she got a job scooping ice cream. Today, she's 20 and a junior in college. My ex and I pay her tuition, but she pays all her other expenses. She's working two jobs while in school, which makes me proud.

Right now, she wants a new car. She's currently driving a 20-year-old Lexus with 180,000 miles — it used to be her grandmother's. I told her I'll match what she saves for a new vehicle. I'll do the same one day when she's ready to buy her first home.

Although I'm a millionaire again, I continue to live like I'll never make another dollar. After growing up poor, I'm terrified of having no money. I like to save and invest, and I never overextend myself with loans and credit cards.

But I've also learned from Janicya. She tells me I work too much. I know from experience that money isn't everything, so I'm trying to spend more time with her — and maybe even take a vacation.

• Bliss Poureetezadi Goytowski and husband Zack welcomed their daughter in April.
• Bliss had a history of depression and tried to prepare ahead of time.
• She hesitated to take medication, but now calls it a "miracle."

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Bliss Poureetezadi Goytowski, co-host of the "Blind Love" podcast. It has been edited for length and clarity.

Before my daughter Galileo was born in April, I thought a lot about postpartum depression. I have a history of depression, so I knew I was at risk. I'd been on antidepressants after college, but for the past decade I managed my symptoms with therapy, exercise, and other holistic approaches.

I spoke with my husband, Zack, and he educated himself about the signs of postpartum depression. We got a doula, and talked about our concerns with her. I made a plan to have my mom stay with us for the first month, and had friends deliver freezer meals. I created space so I could just focus on my health and my baby.

I also reminded myself that everything might be fine: I didn't want postpartum depression to become a self-fulfilling prophecy, or to convince myself I would definitely have it.

As a family, we were prepared as we could possibly be. And yet, you can never have the perfect plan.

I had symptoms soon after Galileo's birth

I started struggling almost immediately. My labor was 42 hours, then I was launched straight into taking care of a newborn. I struggled to breastfeed, and the sleep deprivation just built up.

I started to fear the night. I struggled to get up in the mornings. I was crying a lot, and wasn't able to watch anything but comedies — any emotion felt like too much. Worst of all, when I got Galileo out of her bassinet each morning, I knew the smile on my face was fake.

At my six week checkup I filled out a questionnaire about mental health. I could see that I was scoring really low. When my doctor walked in she said, "What's going on?" She was very open and clear that I needed help. What I was feeling was not normal, though it was common, she said. That was really validating, since as a first-time mom I thought maybe how I was feeling was the norm.

I hesitated to fill my prescription

That day my doctor wrote me a prescription for an antidepressant that was safe to take while breastfeeding. That was really important to me. She was very insistent that medication would help me, though ultimately going on medication was up to me.

Despite that, I didn't fill the prescription at first. After living without medication for years, going back on felt like a step backward. I tried my usual holistic health approaches, from tea to cold baths to exercise, but nothing worked.

That's when I knew I needed to fill the prescription, for Galileo. My daughter needed me to be present for her. A few weeks later I filled the script.

Medication has allowed me to enjoy motherhood

About two weeks after that, I bent over Galileo's bassinet in the morning and felt a genuine smile on my face. I didn't have to remind myself to smile at her. That's when I knew things were getting better.

It's been a few months, and I'm still on medication. Eventually I would like to wean off, but for now I'm so grateful for the miracle of medicine. It has allowed me to finally enjoy motherhood in the way I always dreamed of.

Galileo says "mama" now, and rolls across the room to things she wants to see. I can't wait to show her holiday traditions. Her laughter is the most precious thing in the world, and she is the love of my life. She gives me purpose in a way I didn't know I needed.

When I was pregnant, I thought motherhood would be a part of who I am, but not everything. Now, I feel like being Mama is my identity. Everything else I do comes from that core — including sharing my story.

Moms need help, but even the most prepared can still be hit by postpartum depression. I want others to know they're not alone, and there is hope for treatment. I'm proof of that.

• Julia Myers met her goal to become a millionaire before she turned 40.
• Some of her frugal practices have stayed even now that she's hit that benchmark.
• She doesn't pay for her kids' college education, but has a plan to repay their student loans.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Julia Myers, founder of Generational Wisdom. It has been edited for length and clarity.

It was a goal of mine to become a millionaire before I turned 40. Even more than seeing seven figures in the bank, I wanted financial independence, knowing that I could survive and thrive without being tied to a specific job.

Growing up, my dad went to work every day and saved hard for his retirement at 65. By the time he'd built wealth, he didn't have the health to go with it. I didn't want that to happen to me.

That was fortuitous since I needed to take early retirement from my job as a hospital executive after my retina detached and I lost sight in my right eye. No one wants a one-eyed pharmacist. Luckily, my financial situation meant I was comfortable leaving that job at 38. I continued to invest and accrue wealth and was a millionaire the next year.

We skip drinks at restaurants but travel internationally

I live frugally, which helped me become a millionaire. I focused on getting rid of or avoiding consumer debt and started investing early. I even invested a portion of my student loans after keeping my cost of living low. I wouldn't recommend that, but it worked for me.

I still live by those principles. We're a one-car family, and that car is a 2016 Honda Accord. We rarely eat out, and we don't order alcohol or sodas when we do. These things aren't important to our family, so we don't spend on them.

Instead, we splurge on the things that have real value to us, including travel. We love to travel internationally as a family.

A trip to the DMV made me realize I can't always control my kid's expectations

My kids range in age from 8 to 20. We've helped the two oldest buy cars by matching the amount that they saved. My oldest bought a 2008 Nissan Altima for her first car. She was so proud of researching the car and negotiating the sale, and I felt like I was showing her a valuable life lesson.

Then, we got to the DMV to register the car. My daughter looked around and said, "Where's the fast pass line?" Because our family values experiences, we're always willing to spend on skipping the line, by paying for tools like TSA Pre-Check. That was an aha moment. No matter how intentional I am with raising the kids to not be entitled, they're only going to know what they're used to.

We give our kids a $1,500 launching bonus, then they're on their own

The two oldest (18 and 20) have moved out of the house because it's important to me that they are independent. There are things you won't learn until you're living on your own.

When the kids get ready to move out, my husband and I ask them to prepare a budget. Once we see that, we give them a one-time $1,500 launch payment to help them get started. After that, they're 100% on their own. Money is spent differently when it's yours.

We're not paying for college up front, but we will help with loans

My parents had a policy that I'd always have food and a roof over my head. In line with that, they paid for my room and board in college while I covered tuition. I left school with minimal loans and a degree in pharmacy that led me to a lucrative career. That's contributed to my financial success.

Still, I've taken a different approach with my kids, and we're not paying for their college up front. However, we still have a plan to help them. When they graduate, we'll either pay off their student loans or help with a down payment on a house.

We don't have a set amount for this or other financial decisions regarding the kids. I don't think parenting always needs to be even to be fair. If one of the kids pursues an advanced degree, we would likely give them more money than a child who had a more affordable education.

We're leaving the kids money, but they have to give half away

We regularly tell the kids that we're spending some of their inheritance now to have experiences with them, like those international trips. Still, we plan to leave the kids money when we die — with a caveat.

Each child will have to give half of their inheritance away to a charity they choose. It's one of the many ways I'm encouraging them to create purpose in their own lives, independent from me.

• Ryan McFarland created Strider Bikes when his son Bode was 2.
• Bode, 21, and his brother Jesse, 18, now work at the company.
• Ryan offers a "safety net" but says leaving too much money to the boys would shortchange them.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Ryan McFarland, the founder of Strider Bikes. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I love any type of biking or motorcycling. When I became a dad, I couldn't wait to get my son on a bike, so I created a balance bike without pedals. My son Bode rode it everywhere, zipping around rather than sitting in a stroller. When tons of people asked me about the bike, I realized there was a business opportunity.

I'm a lifelong entrepreneur who has worked in tourism, real estate investment, and mountain biking. When I founded Strider, I owned a mortgage brokerage firm. For the first two years, I worked on Strider during nights and weekends while my sons zipped around the workshop on their bikes.

It was very challenging, but in the past 10 years, it has become very lucrative. Today, I'm 56, and my net worth is about $30 million.

I want to help my sons but not do anything for them fully

My wife and I think a lot about estate planning and have had many discussions about what to do with our wealth. We've decided we want to help the boys, but not doing anything for them entirely.

I believe a full and well-rounded life shouldn't be easy or comfortable all the time. People need stressors to understand the consequences and risks of your actions. That pressure makes you a better decision-maker. Without real-life consequences, people can make flippant decisions.

If I removed all the financial risk from the boys' lives, it would shortchange them from having a rich life experience. The last thing I want to do is set them up financially and unintentionally undermine all that life has to offer. That would give them financial security but really make their lives less meaningful.

So, we've established a trust that will contribute to their education if they want higher education (Bode started college but decided it wasn't for him, and Jesse is still in high school). I won't pay for the boys' car repairs, but I'll let them borrow my car for a few days while theirs is in the shop. We'll provide a safety net and business loans, but my sons will always need to have skin–and money — in the game.

The boys both work for my company but don't report to me

Today both boys work at Strider, but they don't report to me. One of them works in marketing, and one works in logistics. I've told their managers that my sons should be treated like any other employee. If there's an issue, write them up. If they need to be fired, so be it — it might be part of their growing up process.

I've had the same conversations with Bode and Jesse. Ultimately, they don't want to be coddled. It's good for them to know they earn promotions based on merit, not who their dad is. That helps build self-esteem.

Strider is a complex global retail company, so I would never want to put one of my sons in a leadership position that they're not capable of handling. That would really undermine a person. I would like it if they started their own companies and returned here in 10 or 20 years after they've cut their teeth somewhere else.

The boys know the real impact business can have

It has always been important to me that the boys could be involved with the business. One of my initial charters from when I started the company lists a goal to "create a work environment where Bode and Jess can be involved and stimulated."

In the early days, they modeled the bikes for advertisements and demoed Strider bikes at events. They've seen the hard work that went into building this and feel they've contributed to the company's success.

To me, that has a bigger impact on them than the financial impact that Strider has had on our family. A few years ago, we went to Japan for a Strider event. Our franchise owner there took us on a unique, authentic tour of the country. At an event parents and kids were coming up to Jesse and Bode, talking about the impacts of the bikes. My sons were able to see the real impact of the hard work our family has put in. We might have taken this trip if I never founded the company, but it would have been very different.

The business has given millions of dollars to charity through the Strider Educational Foundation, and my sons know that their parents personally have donated hundreds of thousands of dollars. This is one of the more profound results of success. Yes, the vacations and business trips are fun, adventurous, and educational, but the sense of purpose that comes from the foundation is next level. Seeing how success in business is what makes that possible really shines a positive light on the opportunities that can come from entrepreneurship.

• Maya Smith founded The Doux, a hair care brand, with her husband Brian.
• The couple also has five kids, ages 13 to 22.
• Smith says true self-care involves supporting others and establishing boundaries.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Maya Smith, founder of The Doux. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I've been a licensed cosmetologist since high school but never wanted to be a salon owner. I'd known a lot of salon owners, and the business always took over their life. It was all-consuming, and I didn't want that.

I married my husband Brian in 2008 and we moved to Germany, where he was stationed with the military. There was a huge need for cosmetologists who could work on textured hair, so I opened a salon. A few years later, I realized there was a gap in quality products that worked for all of my clients. That's when Brian and I started The Doux.

Balancing a military career, a salon, a product launch, and five boys is no joke. Doing it successfully has impacted every area of our lives.

There are no gender roles in our home

Brian and I always operate as a team, dividing business work and housework. There's no room for gender roles when you have five children to raise. On a typical day when we lived in Germany, Brian would go to work before the sun rose. I'd get the kids to school and open the salon, driving the only car that fits the whole family. He'd stop by to switch cars and then pick the kids up while I worked.

At home, whoever was free was cooking dinner or folding laundry. It was all hands on deck all the time. We see our sons act that way in their relationships now.

We didn't worry about people's expectations

Because we have a large family and a business, we've had to structure our home in ways that seemed strange to other people. Our day-to-day and weekends were different from our peers. For example, the boys didn't play organized sports because I was always in the salon on Saturdays.

By doing what worked for us without worrying about expectations, we were able to ensure that our kids were a priority and that our business stayed on top.

I've continued to learn more about business and finances

I grew up solidly middle class — my dad was an engineer and we had plenty of stability. But since The Doux has grown, I'm making million-dollar decisions every day.

I'm operating in a different atmosphere, and I'm exposed to financial concepts I wasn't even aware of coming up. I've worked hard to immerse myself in that new environment and thrive there.

We help the kids financially

Since The Doux launched to major retail in 2017, our financial success has given us more flexibility to be present for our kids. That shows up in mundane way, like putting the bills on autopay. Autopay gives me mental space, and I've aimed to pass that along to our kids.

We're able to pay for their college and cars and help with housing. I want to take those daily financial strains off their plate so they can focus on building their credit or learning about real estate investing.

We support other Black creatives

Once, a client gave me a $10,000 loan without being asked. It was a small investment to her, but it meant the world to me when I was in a really vulnerable place. It helped my business succeed.

Now that I have more financial flexibility, I want to pay that forward. Financial constraints keep a lot of Black creatives from being great. They might have a wealth of talent and family support, but if they don't have $5,000 to invest in a hair salon or to buy fabric to start a clothing line, they can't pursue their ideas. So, Brian and I always look for ways to support and assist other creatives.

I put up strict boundaries

I used to think self-care was going to the spa, which worked for a while. But after some time, I couldn't empty my brain and relax when I got there. Unresolved thoughts — relationship and work issues — kept popping in.

I realized I needed to unplug more and set many hard boundaries to protect myself. Sometimes, that looks like withdrawing from people around me. It's what my temperament needs to care for not only my physical self but also my emotional and spiritual selves.

• Barbara Goodstein is a managing partner at R360.
• It's a networking group for people with a net worth of at least $100 million.
• Parents in the group want their kids to have purpose despite their wealth.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Barbara Goodstein, managing partner and New York City chapter chair at R360. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I became a millionaire in my 30s. Now that I'm old enough that my two kids are approaching 30, I'm a multimillionaire. I made my wealth by climbing the corporate ladder, and serving on the boards of public companies.

That's a very different situation from the ultra-high net-worth families I work with at R360, where I'm a managing partner. R360 is a peer-to-peer networking group for people who have a net-worth of at least $100 million. Most of our members founded and later sold a company.

The people who join R360 believe that wealth isn't just financial. They want their kids to understand that a rich life is one with self-worth, purpose, and fulfillment — not just money. How they teach that might surprise you.

Centi-millionaires start talking about money early

Our members want to buck the tradition of not talking about money. There's a lot of concern about making sure children don't become spoiled or entitled.

We teach members to start talking to their kids in elementary school. Kids are going to notice, for example, that not everyone is traveling by private jet. These kids know they're different, so there's no point trying to hide it.

Instead, members try to create a sense of purpose. We recommend members talk with their kids around the child's birthday each year and ask, "What can you bring to the family in the next year? What responsibilities can you take on?"

Everyone is paying for college, and the support doesn't stop there

I paid for all college expenses for my own two kids. Almost all our members do the same. There doesn't seem to be any debate around that.

There's much more discussion about when to stop financially supporting children. That's very personal to each family, but most centimillionaires are giving their children some financial support well into adulthood.

For some families, that continues throughout the lifetime. One member has a child who works in healthcare. That woman doesn't make much money, but she has a lot of fulfillment, so her parents are happy to keep supporting her financially. That member also plans to leave more to the daughter working in healthcare than they'll leave to their children with more lucrative careers.

There's a lot of talk about values, and politics

Most of our members are philanthropists, and they need to talk openly with their kids about their values and the causes they support. They don't want to hand over their wealth to their kids and have money go toward causes they don't support. On the other hand, they don't want their kids to have to follow a wealth management plan that they ethically don't agree with.

This leads to lots of interesting conversations. Most often, it's around politics. Children want to be heard, and the parents need to hear them. Most families are able to negotiate a solution.

Centimillionaires learn from each other

Recently, one of our older members was frustrated that his son didn't want to get a prenuptial agreement with his bride-to-be. He felt stuck, insisting on a prenup while his son pushed back on asking his fiancé to sign one (something that's expected in most centimillionaire families).

One of the younger members of our group stepped in. He came up with a way to present the prenup as protection for everyone. That let our older member have a more productive conversation with his son and soon-to-be daughter-in-law.

The adult children want to fill their parents shoes

We host a group for the adult children of our members. A lot of these people, ages 18 to 34, are searching for their sense of purpose. They've had to live in the shadow of wildly successful parents. They worry about whether their friends expect them to pay for things, or only like them for their money. They're facing a big question: I've won the lottery in life, now what am I going to do with it?

Families are transferring money over a lifetime

Our members aren't afraid to leave their children money. But they're bucking the tradition of waiting until they're dead to transfer wealth. They want to give their children small opportunities throughout their lifetime to succeed or fail.

That practice, coupled with open, honest conversation, is a new approach to wealth. It focuses not just on money, but on a truly rich life, in every sense of the word. It's much healthier, and leaves the next generation more prepared to handle their wealth.

• Sheri Atwood was proud that she managed to divorce amicably for just $500.
• However, navigating co-parenting expenses with her ex eventually led to animosity.
• Atwood invented a system where she could upload receipts for her ex and keep detailed records.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sheri Atwood, founder and CEO of SupportPay. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I was five when my parents got divorced, but their separation was so tumultuous that it shaped my whole childhood. The money they spent fighting us could have bought a mansion, but my siblings and I were barely fed and living in a one-bedroom apartment. I lived in 24 different places before I was 18 as they battled for custody.

I was determined not to continue that kind of life. I was the only one of my siblings to go to college. While there, I met a marine in Tijuana and married him at just 19. Our marriage was OK at first, mostly because my job in corporate cyber security meant I traveled constantly.

We had a baby when I was 25, and almost instantly, I realized I wanted a divorce, and my ex was fully on board. Our relationship wasn't healthy, and I didn't want my daughter to grow up with that. I did all the paperwork and paid $500 for the divorce. I felt we had dodged a bullet by having a cheap, amicable divorce despite having significant assets, including multiple homes and a boat. I was proud that we were both focused on what was best for our daughter.

After the divorce, we started fighting about money

After the divorce, I felt like we were constantly discussing — or arguing over — money. He would pay $20 to register our daughter for soccer, and I'd pay $40 for gymnastics, so we were always figuring out who owed whom. I would spend $100 on shoes, and he'd say there was no way shoes cost that much, so I'd have to send him a receipt.

We had the same issue with our shared custody calendar. I'd put my frequent work trips on the calendar, and he would lose the link and ask me to resend it.

I wasted a huge amount of time and energy managing our co-parenting. It was incredibly stressful. Soon, the friendly feelings from my divorce were out the window. My ex and I had a lot of animosity because we had different values around money and challenges communicating about it.

I realized everyone talks about an amicable divorce, but no one talks about what comes after that.

Automating payments allowed me to let go of frustration

When my daughter was seven, she needed emergency brain surgery. That was a wake-up call for me. Until then, I was spending so much time working while nannies took care of her. I realized that if I were going to work that many hours, I wanted to do something more personally meaningful. To me, that meant ensuring my family and others had a better way to manage the mundane tasks of co-parenting, like handling payments and the calendar.

I used my tech background to create a platform to manage payments, schedules, and communication between co-parents. Back then, a text from my ex could distract me from work and disrupt my focus, so I also put communication in the app, which would send me a notification that I could deal with when I was ready.

By the time my daughter was 9, the app was live, and my ex and I began to use it. Having everything in one place allowed me to let go of so much frustration and the time I spent talking to my ex about money. That way, I could focus on what was important: our daughter. My ex even started using it with another ex-partner he also has a child with.

I had let go of my negative feelings, too

Time and time in my life, I've had arguments over money. It's not just with my ex. It also happened with my siblings when we were caring for our mother, and again after she died and we needed to settle her estate.

Having a platform to handle modern family finances takes some of the emotion out of these transactions. Of course, that requires a shift in mindset too. For example, I realized if I wanted to get paid, I had to show my ex receipts for my expenses. He wasn't asking out of spite. He just genuinely didn't realize how much things cost — like those $100 shoes! Being able to upload a receipt kept things cordial and helped me get my money.

Most parents want to support their kids, and they realize kids aren't free. But they don't always understand the costs, and tempers can quickly flare around money. Sharing receipts can be a neutral way to show those costs and avoid emotion.

When you have a child with someone, you're tied to them for life. My daughter is now 22, and my ex and I are still sharing college expenses. I've also had people use the app to split wedding expenses or the cost of taking care of a senior loved one. The last thing anyone wants is to make or receive a phone call asking for money. When you can avoid that, you have more time to focus on what really matters: family.

• Hazel Secco, 33, became a millionaire when she was 28.
• Still, she had to process the financial trauma that had been passed through her family.
• She wants her two daughters to break a family cycle and find joy in spending.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Hazel Secco, founder of Align Financial Solutions. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I can trace my attitudes about money back two generations. My grandmother grew up in Korea during the war generation. She passed her anxieties about money on to my mother. My dad was a gambling addict, which left my mom as the breadwinner for the entire extended family.

My mom felt immense tension around money. I was the only daughter, so I often bore the brunt of her anxiety, which showed up as anger. This isn't a negative judgment of my mom; I understand how her circumstances led to her attitude about money. Yet, over time, I internalized her anger and started feeling like a burden to my family any time I needed anything.

Even when I immigrated to the US, I couldn't leave my family's money trauma behind. I knew well before I became a mom that I didn't want to pass on the lessons I'd learned about money.

Calling myself a millionaire still feels very strange

Through careful savings, planning, and good real estate moves, I was a millionaire by the time I turned 28. Saying that publicly still feels very uncomfortable to me, though. I don't want to put myself in a specific category, and being a millionaire doesn't define me. It just doesn't feel relevant.

What matters far more to me is how I think about money. Even after I started building wealth, I was terrified I would lose it all. Now, I've worked hard to learn to enjoy life, including spending, which matters more to me than any label like "millionaire."

I've focused on money as a tool for joy

Even once I had substantial financial resources, I still felt guilty about spending. I needed a new desk, but I was angry at the idea of spending.

I challenged myself to step back when I'm feeling emotional about money. I journal to try to retrain my mind around spending. I challenge myself to treat myself the way I want people to treat my daughters and to embrace the lessons I want them to learn.

It's working. I used to judge myself very harshly for spending. Now, I focus on the value of the things I'm spending on. For example, my biggest purchase to date is my house, just a subway ride outside Manhattan. Living here, my family has access to great restaurants and cultural experiences. Getting there was easy when my daughter needed to see a specialist doctor.

When I focus on mindful purchasing, spending becomes a positive, happy choice that creates meaningful memories and brings joy to those I care about. The ability to make these choices, enrich our lives, and give our kids joyful experiences feels like our greatest privilege as a family.

I want my daughters to know money is a tool for enjoying life

My girls are only 1 and 3, but I'm already thinking a lot about how I'll teach them about money. I've been thinking about it since before they were born because I wanted to break my family's cycle of passing generational money trauma.

I already speak with my older daughter about value. If we're in a store and she's asking for everything, I tell her to choose just one item. If something is overpriced, I tell her that I can find it cheaper elsewhere. When I say that, I always follow through — I want her to know I'll be truthful about money.

I want the girls to understand that money can give freedom, options, and joy. As I teach them that, I'm learning it on a deeper level myself.

I'm enjoying a family vacation without guilt for the first time

My husband and I are taking the girls to Disney for the first time this fall. I'm beyond excited. I never had that type of family experience growing up, and it's going to be so beautiful watching them enjoy it.

Building wealth has allowed me to afford this experience, but processing my trauma around money is what lets me really enjoy it. It still amazes me that I can plan a vacation like this without any anger, resentment, or guilt over spending.

Having money is one thing, but being able to utilize it without guilt or shame is even more important to me.