The Best Things in My Life are Free

Issue #36 · How I unintentionally discovered the cure to lifestyle creep.

August 20, 2024: Greetings (still!) from Valencia. Things have been quiet around here lately because as it turns out, when you stop filling your weekends with spontaneous trips to Hong Kong and active volcano hikes, there’s suddenly a lot less to talk about. But that’s not a bad thing as I’ve been long overdue for an introvert season — like four years overdue — so instead, I’ve been savoring chilled-out weekends in my cozy apartment while working on some new projects and making a dent in my Kindle backlog.

Unfortunately, the 90-day mark is quickly approaching and so the countdown to my necessary Schengen departure has begun (my days here are quite literally numbered, for now). The good news: I’m happy to report that this second lap around has exceeded expectations and I’ve fallen even more in love with this sun-drenched, laid-back city. The bad news: deciding whether to put down roots here or in Mexico has now become an exhausting game of mental ping pong. But no matter how things unfold, I know that no single place is perfect — my travel buds and I have already rehashed that hypothetical to smithereens, trust me.

In fact, the other night a friend asked “what makes you want to live in Valencia?” and I found it impossible to provide a concise answer. There isn’t one standout thing I love about this city, even the “must do” tourist checklist is pretty limited (those double-decker hop-on/hop-off buses? Here?! Perplexing.) I also don’t particularly love love Spanish cuisine, the beach is a far cry from any Amalfi Coast panoramic vistas and I’ve never stepped foot inside the famous Arts & Sciences complex. So uhhh...why do I like it here so much?

Let’s backtrack for a moment. Admittedly, at this point I’m a bit removed from the latest trends, pop culture and everyday goings-on back in the States — in fact, I often see viral memes that I lack context for, and it’s not just the Gen Z rizz that has me lost. More recently, the algorithm gods have been feeding me a category of content best summarized as “I can’t even afford to exist,” which encapsulates a combination of a perceived cost of living spike and (more accurately) lifestyle creep:

Now, I’m no economist and my own personal budget aside, if a smoothie costs $18.50, on principle, I’m obviously not going to purchase it. I didn’t think this was a radical take (nor did I even believe that $18.50 smoothies actually existed) but after twelve seconds of research, was proven dead wrong on both accounts as I stumbled across Sabrina Carpenter’s Short ‘N Sweet natural collagen + blue spirulina-infused smoothie, now available at your local Erewhon for the totally reasonable price of $23!

What??? Guys. We’ve lost the plot. Have we tried just eating a banana? They’re like twenty-three *cents* each and will do wonders for your digestion and skin. Who is Sabrina Carpenter??

In all fairness, I realize that Erewhon caters to affluent stay-at-home Santa Monica moms and those at the far end of the keeping-up-with-LA-appearances spectrum. But they sell upwards of 40,000 of these smoothies a month! Is this what we now aspire to? Is a Saturday morning spent at a $45 barre class in a $170 Vuori set a total bust without stopping for a $18.50 $23 collagen-infused cherry on top? Do we really need Whole Foods to stock $35 emu eggs? Can we keep in mind what an absurd luxury it is to have filet mignon and lobster tails regularly fetched to our front door?

Anyway, after climbing out of this “I can’t afford to exist” living beyond my means rabbit hole, I realized that over the past few years, I’ve unintentionally experienced whatever the opposite of indulgent lifestyle creep is. I’m still searching for the right term, but it’s something along the lines of simplification and minimalism — perhaps lifestyle pruning¹?

This is mostly due to traveling of course, as it’s been impossible to accumulate unnecessary material crap when suitcase space comes at a premium. Being on the move has also slashed my recurring expenses, as there’s no need to hold onto a pricey gym membership and I now decidedly prefer living car-free. I’ve also had to fossilize my daily habits so that they can be reproduced no matter what city or country I’m in — the number of dishes I can whip up with the same eight grocery staples is impressive. Sure, not all of my plane tickets and temporary accommodations have been a steal, but now that I’ve even begun to cut back on those expenditures, what’s left is a deliberately assembled daily routine packed with things that provide genuine fulfillment, uninfluenced by fads, trends or consumerism. And the kicker? Most of these things are free:

• Several times a week I’ll hop on a bike and head down to the beach — it's a 19-minute ride, 16 if I hit the traffic lights just right. Valencia’s extensive network of bike lanes blanket the entire city leaving no nook or cranny inaccessible on two wheels. It’s the most efficient, enjoyable way to get around town. Why would I pay for Ubers or rent a car?

• Every morning, I go for a run in El Jardín del Turia, conveniently located a half block from my front door. Once a riverbed, it’s now a 9km long park complete with a palm tree-lined running path that weaves through fountains, Renaissance-era stone bridges and bougainvillea in full bloom — it’s spectacular. Why would I pay to use a treadmill?

• As a reward for getting up early to run — something my circadian rhythm is not genetically predisposed to enjoy but is necessary to beat the Spanish summer heat — I treat myself by stopping at a café with an excellent shady seating area in a busy plaza. It’s not free, but it’s close: 1.40€ for a café con leche, 1.90€ if I feel like having a big one. The high-quality people watching provided makes it well worth the price of admission, even if the coffee is mediocre.

• Valencia is also a major hub for my latest hobby of choice, beach volleyball. I play several times a week, as not much beats a night of friendly competition, high-fives and laughs just steps away from the Mediterranean. There are more than thirty permanent public courts on the beach, yet getting to play during the peak 7pm time slot can still be tricky — so they’ve got a strict online reservation system in place in order to secure a court. The cost to rent a net and lines? 0€, just make sure to bring your own ball.

Now, I hope this doesn't sound like I’m being a cheapskate or pinching pennies, because this frugality is entirely unintentional. Anyone who knows me well knows that I’m down to spend a few bucks to have a good time. It’s just a lucky accident that most of the things here that make up my ideal daily routine come without a price tag.

Give me a free Equinox membership and I’d still choose this.

One last thing I need to mention, and this is important. Obviously, I can’t gloss over the fact that the general cost of living is lower in most other countries than in the U.S., and (although that’s not why I’ve chosen to live abroad nor the point of this post) my wallet has no doubt benefited from it.

But by living outside the States, I’ve experienced something way more impactful than just lower rent and cheaper coffee: In Spain, Mexico and nearly every other country I’ve lived in, that hyper-consumerist, convenience-driven behavior so common among Americans is practically nonexistent. Nobody has a $735/month² car payment, mindlessly strolling the aisles of Target is not a weekly ritual, Amazon boxes don’t pile up on doorsteps, and if you want a collagen-infused smoothie, you’ll definitely have to DIY it.

Yes, the U.S. job market is tough, housing costs have climbed, daycare is astronomical, and perhaps you think I’m out of touch because I work for myself and don’t have children. But there’s also this pervasive cultural mindset of keeping up with the Joneses, an instant gratification compulsion and a dependency on private vehicles — an unsustainable concoction particularly unique to American society — that’s drowning so many of y’all in self-inflicted debt. It’s what I’ve pruned from my life and have no interest in returning to.

I know this sounds harsh and I don’t mean to constantly dump on the U.S., but as I come to terms with what permanently living abroad entails, I can’t help but take an introspective look under the hood. Committing to a life that requires obtaining a visa, overcoming a language barrier, a six-hour time zone difference and a 4,000 mile trip across an ocean is intimidating, don’t get me wrong. But at the moment, settling back down in the States still feels like the bigger risk.

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Recommended related posts:

• Choosing Your Own Life Adventure — One of my personal favorite pieces, about trusting your instincts and not looking back. Feels like a relevant follow-up.

• On Passport Privilege — A friendly reminder that the opportunity to voluntarily immigrate to a new country that I’ve hand-picked is not something I take lightly.

  PS: I’d love to hear what you thought about this issue. Email me directly at hello@emilyannhill.com and I pinky promise I’ll reply back.

1. “Pruning refers to the act of trimming or cutting away parts of a plant, tree, or shrub to promote healthy growth, improve shape, or remove dead or unwanted branches. In a broader, metaphorical sense, pruning means removing unnecessary or unwanted elements from something to improve its overall effectiveness or appearance.” — yeah, lifestyle pruning feels like the perfect term.

2. The average monthly payment on a new car in the U.S. was $735 in the 1st quarter of 2024, according to Experian. Someone please tell me these numbers are not accurate because this is insane???