I don’t think I’ll be paying someone to do my taxes anymore.
After having the unfortunate life experience of chasing government agencies, waiting on reassessments, checking portals, and trying to untangle mistakes that weren’t even mine, I realized something much bigger: I don’t want to become a Chartered Professional Accountant. I just want to become the accountant of my own life.
When I was younger, accounting felt painfully dull. I studied it briefly after high school before transferring into marketing, and I remember thinking I’d never want to spend my career buried in spreadsheets. I still don’t. But it’s entirely different when it comes to your own money.
Your own money tells the story of your life. It records what you value, what you sacrificed for, what you invested in, and occasionally, the expensive lessons you had to learn the hard way.
For years, I looked at taxes as something to survive once a year. I would just hire someone, sign a few forms, and hope for the best. Now, I see everything differently. Now I understand that accounting is simply another language, which is the language of money.
I don’t think adults should be strangers to a language that affects nearly every major decision they’ll ever make. How much can I save? Can I afford to start a business? Should I incorporate? Which expenses are actually investments? How much do I really need to earn to build the life I want? These questions have nothing to do with being a Chartered Professional Accountant, and everything to do with your life.
This past year forced me to spend more time dealing with bureaucracy than I ever have before. I was stuck dealing with government departments, employer forms, adjustments, reassessments, and endless phone calls. It was exhausting. Ironically, it also made me curious. The more I had to confront my finances, the more I wanted to understand them.
I’ve learned that there are some parts of adulthood worth outsourcing, like changing your car brakes, removing your wisdom teeth, or cutting your hair (if you’re me). But I don’t think understanding your own finances should be one of them. Even if I hire professionals again one day, I want to work with them from a position of collaboration rather than total dependence. That is a completely different relationship.
Money isn’t just numbers; it’s freedom. It’s about having options and time. It’s the ability to leave situations that no longer serve you. The better I understand the language of money, the more fluent I’ll become in designing my own life.
One day, maybe I will have children to pass down this generational knowledge. Or maybe I’ll never have that opportunity, and instead, these essays will become the lessons I leave behind. Either way, I hope someone younger than me reads this and realizes something much earlier than I did:
Knowledge removes fear.
Understanding replaces helplessness.
A space for anyone navigating adulthood solo, especially those whose parents did their absolute best but couldn’t pass down the finer details of the system. Pull up a chair at the “Table for One” reading room to learn the language of building a life from scraps.