Years ago I remember seeing an old Army recruiting commercial that asked the question, “If someone wrote a story about your life, would anyone want to read it?” The question wasn’t profound because it made me want to join the military; rather, it made me question the life I was then living. I was at a crossroads, wondering what happened to my dreams.

I grew up in Elizabeth—the fourth-largest city in New Jersey— raised by two amazing, hardworking immigrant parents. I was one of five children, the second youngest and the middle boy. I had lived in seven different houses by the time I entered high school. My parents stretched their dollars to provide for a family of seven. My parents didn’t talk about money, but I also never worried about shelter, food, or my health. They made sure those needs were met. I didn’t grow up with brand-name labels, and our idea of fine dining was eating at buffet restaurants. We walked around the mall to stretch our legs, but most of my clothes were hand-me-downs from my older brother.

I was the dreamer and the overachiever who got good grades and followed the rules. As a teenager I made money by delivering pizza, mowing lawns, raking leaves, and shoveling snow. I competed in forensics, played sports, and acted in school plays. I was class president and a member of the honor society. I also graduated at the top of my class.

I had a dream for my life and I was eager to start college.

During my senior year of high school, my mother told me that they couldn’t pay my college tuition. It was the first conversation about money that I had ever had. Although on paper my parents’ income was over the limit for me to be eligible for financial aid, their actual disposable income wasn’t enough to afford to send me to school.

I was devastated.

Without enough money for college, it meant I wasn’t going anywhere after high school. I was ashamed. I didn’t even tell my friends. I quietly got a job at Newark Airport instead.

I deferred going to college for a year and worked long hours to save as much as I could to afford the first year’s tuition. The following fall I was able to enroll at school full time but continued to work at the airport. I did well at work and was promoted. I made good money. After four years I graduated with a bachelor’s degree in finance but with a mountain of debt from my student loans and credit cards.

I never attended a financial-education class in high school or college. I was taught how to calculate the area of a triangle but not the power of compounding interest. I learned the periodic table of elements but not how the banking system operates. I had classes in the arts, music, and physical education, but the important lessons that can impact our ability to have our dream careers—as artists, musicians, and athletes—weren’t offered in the classroom.

I wasn’t prepared to make any financial decisions.

My first experience with a credit card began in college. I was hanging with friends at the common area when I was approached by someone who looked like a student, who asked if I wanted a Frisbee. I only had to do one thing: Complete an application.

I wanted a Frisbee. So I quickly completed and signed the application. A few weeks later, a plastic card of financial opportunities arrived.

My parents used credit cards. I marveled at their designs and was awed by how easily a purchase could be made. I saw my parents pay for groceries, clothing, and essentials with a single swipe. I wondered who gave them free money. I wondered who would give me free money. I imagined that this plastic card would empower me to get anything I wanted. And now, I had my own.

My first credit card had a credit limit of $500. I was responsible for making the small and affordable minimum monthly payments on time, every time. I was rewarded for my money-management skills with a higher credit limit. But my outstanding balance increased accordingly. I never thought of the total balance owed, because the minimum payments were paid. By the time I graduated college, the $500-limit credit card had turned into a $5,000 balance. I cannot recall what I spent with the $5,000, but I do remember the Frisbee.

This is how I bought a $5,000 Frisbee.

After college, I didn’t find myself living my dreams. I was barely living. I just existed to pay off student loans and credit card debt. I found myself working a number of jobs that weren’t at all satisfying. I found myself further and further away from the life I’d envisioned as a teenager. My days weren’t filled with excitement and world-changing work. They were filled with endless consumption, debt, and enough what-if statements to fill a book of their own.

I got a job in banking and progressed in a career, and my salary grew along with it. I went from working a job cleaning toilets and serving drinks to one as an executive who made decisions in the boardroom seven and a half years later. I lived in an apartment in Silicon Valley with a walk-in closet that was the size of a room I once shared with my two brothers. I owned two cars, a bike, a closet filled with clothes, and shelves of unused gadgets. I appeared to be the model of success, but underneath it was a much different story.

I was professionally successful but personally unsatisfied. I was income-stable but financially inept. I was the poster child for bad financial decision making. I paid hundreds of dollars in overdraft penalties and fees for nonsufficient funds. I racked up tens of thousands of dollars in credit card debt. I had student loans. I consolidated and reconsolidated unsecured credit. I took out loans from my 401(k). I used IRA money to pay for monthly expenses. Even on a six-figure salary, I lived paycheck-to-paycheck.

I was dissatisfied. I was unhappy. I was out of control.

Money was the obstacle to my dreams. I came from a place of fear and scarcity. I chased money as the solution to my problems and believed my ability to spend corresponded with control. After one financial mistake and more bad decisions, I no longer dreamed of a better life. I had become indebted to something I had mindlessly created.

I needed a change.

I immersed myself in financial education. I learned how to budget and pay off debt. I paid off over $40,000 in unsecured debt and $15,000 in student loans. I learned how to save money and invest for my retirement. I felt on the top of my game. I was free of consumer debt. I had an emergency fund, as well as vacation and holiday club savings. I was contributing to my 401(k) and Roth IRAs. I was investing through my company’s employee stock purchase program and buying stocks through my brokerage accounts.

I had achieved financial success and set financial goals, but without a sense of purpose I returned to my old ways—mindlessly consuming and obsessively complaining.

All the how-to seminars, blogs, books, and apps helped me to achieve goals, but they didn’t go far enough. They didn’t help me to uncover the real why behind my desire for financial freedom. It no longer mattered that I was debt free or that my savings had increased exponentially. I had reached a point at which I was yearning for something different. I had all this financial knowledge, but I didn’t know how to apply it to living a purposeful life.

Society told me I was successful, but my doctor told me I was stressed. After three years as a successful executive, I became determined to gain this financial freedom. I declined job offers that came with a larger salary. And instead of pursuing the path to succeed the CEO, I resigned.

In January 2012, I made a decision that started a journey that altered the trajectory of my life. For as long as I could remember, I had followed a specific path that society states is the way to happiness and success: graduate high school, make money, finish college, get a job, buy a car, get promoted, own a home—and somewhere in between, find the love of my life, start a family, and begin planning for retirement. Even though I went off track sometimes, I forced myself back on this path.

Eventually I realized that I wasn’t getting any happier, but instead growing more and more dissatisfied. I had no control over my life, and my financial situation mimicked that lack of control. I began asking others about happiness and was repeatedly told to continue on the path.

“You seem entitled,” they said.

They wanted me to accept that if I just continued as I was, I could retire in my 70s and become happy after that. I refused to accept the idea that I needed to work 45 more years to (hopefully) live the dreams I once had as a teenager.

I sold or donated everything I owned and paid off what I owed. I stopped spending and setting up financial goals. I began prioritizing life goals.

I left my executive job to find my way. That step led to a backpacking trip around the world through 20 countries in 12 months, during which I explored Southeast Asia, Central America, and Western Europe. I had new conversations that gave me new insights. I discovered new interests and learned to define my purpose. I came home with a vision for my life.

How was it that someone like me was able to take a different path?

I learned that knowledge is power, but financial knowledge is life changing. My past experiences had shaped my relationship with money, creating an unhealthy money mindset that clouded my mind and limited my ability to do the things I wanted to. My awareness and acceptance of this relationship allowed me to shift my mindset and change my financial habits. This has enabled me to live my dream lifestyle in this lifetime.

I am satisfied. I am happy. I am in control.

In the course of my studies, research, and conversations around the world and during my epic road trip—the Road to Financial Wellness—I learned that we need to evaluate our relationship with money and increase our financial intelligence in order to make better financial decisions and shape our dream lifestyle. By confronting my scarcity mindset and addressing my fears about money, I realized the power of having a vision for my life and setting financial goals that align with my values.

I am living my purpose, and in the pages of this book I hope to educate and inspire you to take the next steps to improve your relationship with money so that you, too, can live your dream lifestyle in this lifetime.

This book is based on years of experience and is influenced by the many amazing people who have contributed to my life’s story. I hold you dear in my heart and am appreciative of the love you’ve given me throughout the years.

This book would not have been possible without three amazing people who believed in my message and connected me to my publisher, John Wiley & Sons. Many thanks go to Marge and George Alexander and to Fred Wied IV. I also thank my Wiley team: Tula Batanchiev, associate editor, who after hearing my story and idea for the book, cheered me on; and Kathryn Duggan, my development editor, who took my ramblings and helped develop the story and flow.

To the thousands of people I met on the Road to Financial Wellness tour, I thank you for listening to my story and sharing yours. And to the Phroogal community and those living the Smile Lifestyle: This book was inspired by you.

To my road trip team: Larry Valente Solha, Austin Strickland, Juliana Anselmini, Melanie Lockert, and Will Lipovsky, who made the Road to Financial Wellness tour a success. I couldn’t have done this without you.

To Yaroslav Tashak, who after hearing my story during a Montclair State University entrepreneurship event offered his help in making my dream come true. Thank you for joining me on the road trip and spending an additional 14 days to head back home. Your friendship has been influential and invaluable to me.

There were 47 personal finance bloggers, podcasters, financial educators, and presenters who supported the road trip, and I wish I could list all of you here. Thank you for spreading the word to your communities. I am grateful to each and every one of you.

A very special thanks to Carey Ransom and the team at Payoff for their national sponsorship of the Road to Financial Wellness—they made it possible for my team to trek across the country for 30 days in order to break the social taboo of talking about money.

Thank you to the National Credit Union Foundation, aSmarterChoice .org, the World Council of Credit Unions, and the credit unions that believed in my vision: Denver Community Credit Union, Combined Employees Credit Union, 121 Financial Credit Union, Midwest Community Federal Credit Union, ISU Credit Union, Aspire Federal Credit Union, Lake Trust Credit Union, Camino Federal Credit Union, Affinity Federal Credit Union, Missoula Federal Credit Union, Parkside Credit Union, Horizon Credit Union, Ravalli County Federal Credit Union, and Donya Parrish of Montana Credit Union Network.

A special thanks to Mark Cochran of Jeanne D’Arc Credit Union, Michele Bolkovatz of Warren Federal Credit Union, and Fadhila Holman of Cooperative Center Federal Credit Union—the first three people who jumped at the chance to be part of the nationwide financial wellness campaign.

To the nonprofits that supported our mission across the country—mPowered of Colorado, Inceptia, Creative Portland, Junior Achievement of New York, Greater Newark Enterprise Corporation, Urban League of Union County Young Professionals, Someone’s Daughter, Consumers United Association of Colorado, Equality Washington, New Community Church, and Columbia North YMCA—I thank you.

Thanks also to Republic Wireless, Experian, Wisebread, MoneyCrashers, XY Planning Network, Quizzle, Shim’s Martial Arts Academy, Galvanize Denver, Opodz, Simple Bank, SoFi, Vincent Turner of SF FinTech meetup, and Carlos Abad of LaunchNJ for opening your communities to our message.

And thank you to the Denver Office of Strategic Partnerships and to my hometown mayor, the Honorable J. Christian Bollwage of Elizabeth, New Jersey.

I also extend my gratitude to Barbara O’Neill of Rutgers University Cooperative Extension, Nicole Didomenico of Norwich University, Sharon Waters of the Feliciano Center for Entrepreneurship, and Carmen Cuevas of Montclair State University for giving me the opportunity to educate students about money and purpose.

I owe so much to Philip Taylor, the founder of FinCon, who in 2013 gave me a free ticket to attend his conference in St. Louis, which helped me to build my network and exposed me to an amazing community, and to J. Money, of BudgetsAreSexy.com, for his time and mentorship.

I was also successful because of on-the-road support from Joe Saul-Sehy of Stacking Benjamins, Tiffany “the Budgetnista” Aliche, Patrice “the Money Maven” Washington, Tarra Jackson of Ms. Madam Money, and Farnoosh Torabi—to all of you, much appreciation for sharing your tips and supporting my cause; to Steve Stewart, who coached me on giving better podcast interviews; and to Austin Netzley for my very first podcast interview.

For setting up events, I am beholden to Ralph Carmona, Sandy Smith, Dave Olverson, Kate Dore, Leslie Girone, Chenell Tull, Alan Steinborn, Adam Muller, Alyssa Windell, Abdul Taylor, Eva Baker, Katie Brewer, Deacon Hayes, Athena Lent, Miranda Marquit, Talaat and Tai McNeely of HisandHerMoney.com, and Zach the Froogal Stoodent. I am also beholden to Steve and Annette Economides of MoneySmartFamily.com for opening up your home, Michelle Jackson for rounding up bloggers in Denver, Leisa Peterson of WealthClinic, Aaron Goodnow and William Cristobal of Yoga Belly Studio, Bill Dwight of FamZoo for making sure we ate healthy on the road, and Kate Blanchard and Jeff Fruhwirth for introducing me to credit union sponsors.

Many thanks to my teachers: Jeffrey Schneider, who coached me on the forensics team, to which I attribute my success as a speaker; and Anthony Nufrio, my drama teacher, who gave me the opportunity to shine on stage.

I was also given many opportunities to grow professionally thanks to Tricia Kearney-Casalinho, Ana Fernades-Moreira, Anabela Fonseca, and Emini Gidi, who challenged me in my first job at Newark Airport; Mark Charbonneau and Caterine Dobrzanski, who hired me at age 22 and gave me my first banking job; Marcia Waithe, who taught me everything she knew; Mary Sciaraffo and Ellen McGuinness-Ford, who gave me opportunities to grow; Donna LoStocco, who said I had “compassionate determination”; and my dearest friend Nicole Goodspeed—who took me under her wing and said, “One day I’ll be reporting to you”—you are forever in my heart, I miss you.

My life wouldn’t be where it is today without the opportunity that was given to me by Christine Petro, who became my boss, mentor, and friend. Thank you for believing in this passionate yet unpolished “kid.” Tony Ward-Smith, thank you for your guidance, which helped me to make the tough decision to leave my career and take a chance.

Thanks to my human resources friends who helped start me on this road and are still a part of my life: Cristina Valverde and her efforts to make me part of the TE Menlo Park campus; Linda Grant, who gave the initial recommendation that changed the trajectory of my career; and Darlene Lehman, who managed to fill every seat for every one of my workplace financial literacy seminars.

To some amazing friends—I am honored by your continued friendship specifically during this time, and I thank you for lending your ears through the years: Leonardo Cortes, Jessica Luciano, Oscar Alfaro, Hugo Esteves, Chihui Seo, Renato Carniero, Tony Masia, Ralph Bijasa, Eddie Morais, Ana Dias, Michael Matvienko, Kyle Taylor, Paul Fidalgo, Justin Heaton, and Kelly Hrycenko. Thanks also to Galen Schultz and Michelle Phan, who opened their home to my team in Raleigh; Melba Fidalgo, who offered me my first opportunity to share my story, at Playworks in Newark, New Jersey; Meg Fry for my first newspaper editorial; and Gavin Vallance, Albert Garcia, Chris Fernandes, and Javier Ponce, who helped me through difficult moments in my life. I thank you all.

Thank you to Max Martinez, who believed in my vision for Phroogal and helped me to successfully crowd-fund my passion project, and to the 541 people who contributed to the campaign. I am forever grateful. Thank you to my aunts and uncles who let me crash on their couches and financially supported my goals during this period: Edel and Conrado Bautista and Gil and Jo Ramos.

Love to my wonderful and large family: Jennifer, Jeffrey, Janice, and John; to my in-laws, Francisco, Kseniia, David, and Karla; and especially to my 13 nieces and nephews, who I hope will read this book and not make the mistakes I’ve made: Alexander, Nicolas, Keanu, and Keira; Sophia and Amelia; Adriana, Elena, and Kayla; Greta and the twins, Matilda and Clementine; and my adopted nephew Sebastian.

Jason Vitug is an author, speaker, and social impact entrepreneur as founder of personal finance website and lifestyle brand – Phroogal. He is a financial motivator and lifestyle engineer.

Jason is the promoter of The Smile Lifestyle movement, a community of thousands of millennials who are living purposeful lives and making informed financial decisions to stop wasting time and money, and focus on the things that matter. The movement is based on a belief that experiential and purposeful living can be achieved through sound financial decision making.

Jason worked in the financial services industry for almost 8 years and was the Vice President of Marketing and Business Development for a Silicon Valley based credit union that experienced trans-formative growth during his tenure.

In 2012, Jason left his senior executive role and backpacked around the world visiting 20 countries in 12 months. It was in this journey he created his purpose and in 2013 started Phroogal and successfully crowd funded raising $78,501 with the support of 541 people.

Jason is the creator of the award winning project – The Road to Financial Wellness – a grassroots and social media campaign to break the social taboo about money and empower a generation to live their dreams.

Jason grew up in Elizabeth, NJ and attended the Elizabeth Public School system from K-12. He is a graduate of Norwich University and Rutgers University receiving a B.S. in Finance and holds a Masters of Business Administration.