Money Doesn't Buy Happiness. But It Might Buy Opportunity.

I'm 35 now, writing this in 2026.

Back when I was 21, I was still in National Service, drawing $960 a month as a 3rd Sergeant. I kept saving what I could, and by the time I ORD'd, my bank account held about S$10,000. That was 2013. I was 22.

Then I went straight into university, and that S$10,000 became precious. It bought my laptop. It covered the gaps when my part-time work couldn't. It wasn't luxury money — it was runway.

But here's the part I don't talk about as much: that S$10,000 wasn't enough runway. So I worked. And work took time. And time is the one thing university only gives you once.

The University Life I Didn't Have

My juniors talk about "Uni Life" like it's a rite of passage, the nightlife, the club mates, the CCAs, the late-night suppers after a night out. I didn't have any of that. I didn't even have an interest club.

For me, university was: study, research, work, and date my wife, back then, still my girlfriend.

That was it. That was the whole rotation.

I'm not saying it with resentment. I got good grades. I graduated with a job lined up. I married the girl I was dating throughout all of it. By most measures, it worked out. But I'd be lying if I said I never wondered about the version of my life where I didn't have to work part-time, where I had the breathing room to join a club, build a network, or just exist as a 20-year-old without a shift to think about.

Would It Have Made a Difference?

I've turned this question over for years, and I don't think the answer is simple.

On one hand, I know the people I worked part-time with back then. Some of them were full-timers at the same jobs, retail floors, waiting tables. I still see them on Facebook today, and many of them are in the same roles, over a decade later. I want to be careful here, there's no shame in that work, and I'm not trying to degrade anyone's path. But if I'm honest with myself, those part-time connections didn't compound into anything for me. They didn't value-add to where I am today.

On the other hand, I know university peers who never worked a single day during their degree. They spent that time on club activities, on socials, on building relationships instead of shifts. Some of them are now successful agents. A few run their own small businesses. The thing they built in university wasn't a bank balance, it was a network, and in some cases, that network became the business itself.

So when I ask myself "if I didn't need a part-time job, would my life be different?", I think the honest answer is: probably yes. Not because working is bad, but because where I spent my hours mattered, and I didn't always get to choose.

The Real Cost Wasn't Money

This is the piece I want my sons to understand one day. The S$10,000 I had at 22 covered my expenses. It did its job. But it was never enough to buy me time, and time was what would have let me experiment with a club, build a different kind of network, or simply find out what I was interested in outside of grades and shifts.

That's the real difference between S$10,000 and S$70,000 at that age. It's not seven times more stuff. It's the difference between money that covers your gaps and money that buys you options.

If I'd had that kind of runway at 21, would I have joined a club? Would I have built the kind of network that turns into a business a decade later, instead of one that stays exactly where it started? I genuinely don't know. But I know I never got the chance to find out, and that's the part I think about most.

Why This Matters for My Sons

This is exactly why I want my sons to have access to a meaningful sum when they're 21 and 23. Not so they can avoid working entirely, and not so they can coast. But so that if there's a version of university, or of their twenties, where the right move is to build a network instead of clock in shifts, to join the club, take the internship that doesn't pay, start the business that might fail, money isn't the reason they can't try.

I had to choose between paying my way and exploring who I might become. I don't regret how it turned out for me. But I don't want my sons to have to make that same trade without at least having the choice in front of them.

So here's the question I keep coming back to, the same one I'd ask anyone reading this: if you'd had S$70,000 at 21, would you have spent your twenties differently? Would you have taken the unpaid internship, joined the club, built the network, instead of taking the shift?

I'd genuinely like to know. Drop a comment.