Debt-Free

I named him Jude — a Nissan Juke I bought in January of 2017. My first car, Mitsy, had died a white-smoke filled death a year prior after 225k+ miles and at least that many adventures. I was working a full-time job at a boarding school, and I could afford dropping several thousand dollars down initially, taking out a 4-year loan to pay off the rest.

I was making good money at the time, working within two miles of my shared apartment, spending hardly anything on gas and rent each month. I started doubling and tripling my monthly loan payments to get debt-free as soon as freaking possible.

I told myself I wouldn’t even think of leaving that job until Jude was fully paid off — because I was hearing whispers.

As the year progressed, I did think about leaving that job. I thought about it more and more, month after month.

You see, while I was working at this boarding school, Your Other Brothers was taking off. More and more people were visiting our website and pledging on Patreon, and before I knew it I was juggling a 40-hour work week and a 20-hour “hobby week” — if YOB was even a “hobby” anymore?

It certainly started out that way. In 2015, YOB was just a fun website I’d created with my friends to share our stories. We were a little blog. Then a slightly bigger site with a podcast. Then an even bigger one with a video channel.

A Patreon was started to pay off the thing each month: hosting, equipment.

And then somewhere along the way, an active community formed. A Facebook group and monthly group calls that required hours each week to manage.

What started out as tinkering with a couple blogs each week turned to recording podcasts and shooting videos and planning yearly retreats with community members. Before I knew it, YOB was no longer a hobby. It could no longer be treated that way — that is, if I wanted it to grow further.

And I did.

By mid-2017, I wasn’t anywhere near self-sufficient in terms of Patreon income. But I felt beckoned to step away from my boarding school and make YOB my full-time job. To pour more time and energy into this storytelling, community-building effort and hopefully, maybe, get to total self-sufficiency in no-time.

Perhaps I could Lyft and Uber with my new car to make ends meet each month? Driving 15-20 flexible hours each week would be a significant release from my structured 40-hour work-week filled with obstinate kids (though I did love them).

I knew I could pay off my Juke and be debt-free if I simply kept working at the boarding school through 2017 and maybe a little into 2018. Paying off a 4-year loan in a little over a year was absolutely doable.

But that inner beckoning grew louder and stronger. Beyond YOB, I also had the draft of a book, my second, that had been shelved for over two years — far too long. The only way I could possibly complete my road memoir would be if I had new hours and new life to work on it.

By summertime, I couldn’t stifle my beckonings any longer.

So, I left.

I leapt.

And I hoped for the best.

It’s a long story. But getting debt-free took (much) longer than I thought. 2017 turned to 2018. Turned to 2019. Turned to 2020.

I moved multiple times, my rent doubling, then tripling within three years. I spent considerably more on gas getting around each month. My car loan took forever to pay off. Then some credit card debt accumulated along the way. Taxes killed me; I wasn’t prepared.

And yet all the while, my newly focused efforts into YOB were indeed growing the community. Our members grew by 77% from 2017 to 2020 – folks pledging from all over America and Canada and Europe and Asia. Our podcast accumulated nearly 100,000 downloads. I attended a couple conferences where people came up to me with gratitude radiating from their faces.

“Thanks for what you do, Tom. It’s made such a difference in my life.”

It’s been a financial nightmare, these last two and a half years, if I’m being honest.

I’ve tried not to broadcast this reality. I got myself into this mess, after all. I quit a well-paying, emotionally fulfilling job to dive into this unpredictable independent internet writing blog podcast community thing.

Whatever this thing even was.

I knew the risk. I knew the process. I knew I’d remain in debt longer than I’d like. I’d just have to own it and soldier onward.

Eventually it would all be worth it. Right?

I hit the road for five months last year, partly to avoid paying rent and chip into my debt (which I did, though larger reasons ultimately prompted this action). I took some steps back with YOB amidst my geographic instability, but I continued investing into YOB. I still believed in this thing.

Even with less podcasts and blogs and videos being produced last summer, I kept receiving emails and running into folks on the road who said the same thing to me, over and over and over:

“I thought I was the only one. I thought I was alone. Thank you for what you do, Tom. Please keep going and never stop.”

In the last year, I’ve received some truly “out of nowhere” gifts. Several patrons generously increased their monthly pledges. My debt shrank and shrank, and I relocated back to Asheville last fall suddenly more comfortable at the notion of paying what I’d have to pay for rent — still a bargain for what else was out there, though.

My apartment’s been a godsend. I’ve truly never felt more at home in my adult years.

I picked up therapy again. Mostly every week. Another pricey expenditure. But so vital to my emotional and relational health.

And then there’s CrossFit. (But I don’t need to talk about CrossFit any more than I already do on social media.)

Life costs money. Good health costs money. My debt ball didn’t shrink much for a solid few months as I got reestablished in Asheville. I was Lyfting and Ubering more than I had in many months — all just to break even each month, let alone shrink the ball any.

But man. God is faithful.

I don’t care if you roll your eyes over my saying that. He is.

I’m financially blessed by the most supportive guys (and gals) I could ask for. I’m spiritually blessed by these same folks and many, many more.

If you’re interested at all in continuing to grow my efforts, I’d be so grateful for your support.

It’s taken me 31 months since I left my well-paying, full-time job. Which is about 25 months longer than I’d have liked it to be.

But here I am today.

Debt-free.

Hallelujah. Truly.

Enough catching up with the knotted-up ball of my past.

I want to unspool into the future.

Onward.