Wants Are Needs Too
We’ve been sold a false binary. The misunderstanding of wanting in a well-lived life.
My wife and I recently made one of the biggest financial decisions we’ve made in years. We move into our new home this October.
Almost immediately, the questions started.
“Isn’t that expensive?”
“Why not choose something a little farther away?”
“Your business is growing. Shouldn’t you wait a few more years before spending that much?”
The suggestions were practical. We could have rented a comparable home for less money. We could have accepted a longer commute. We could have postponed the decision until some future version of success supposedly gave us permission to live the way we wanted.
It was thoughtful advice. It just wasn’t our decision.
My wife and I didn’t arrive at this choice impulsively. We gathered information, asked for guidance, prayed, ran the numbers, and spent months talking about the kind of life we wanted to build, not just the kind of house we wanted to live in.
The monthly rent was only one variable.
We considered what two to three hours of daily traffic would cost over the course of a year. Nearly 500 hours that could instead be spent serving clients, growing my business, walking with my wife, or watching our two-year-old son discover the world.
We considered the value of living in an active neighborhood where restaurants, parks, and everyday conveniences are within walking distance. A home office designed for focused work. Roads that are well maintained. Spaces that feel safe after dark.
Grocery stores we already frequent. Natural light filling our home throughout the day. A location that keeps us close to both family and work instead of constantly choosing one over the other.
We considered our well-being—our energy, our peace of mind, and our quality of life.
Yes, we chose the more expensive option. Some would call it paying a premium.
We saw it differently.
We weren’t paying a premium for a house. We were investing in the conditions that allow us to live, work, parent, and flourish at our best.
We believe the environment we choose influences the quality of our thinking, our relationships, our productivity, and ultimately the outcomes our financial plan is designed to create.
When the decision was made, we no longer felt the need to defend it.
Not because everyone would agree with it, but because it reflected our values, our aspirations, our season of life, and our financial reality.
It was our decision.
And that made me wonder why so many thoughtful, disciplined people feel guilty whenever something they genuinely want costs more than the minimum required.
Our social culture and much of the financial advice we've inherited have misunderstood what it means to want.
The Lesson We Were All Taught
Most of us learned about money through a simple distinction.
There are needs. And there are wants.
Needs come first. Wants come later.
Needs are responsible. Wants are indulgent.
Needs deserve our money. Wants have to earn it.
It seems like a sensible framework. In many ways, it is. Food, shelter, clothing, healthcare, transportation, and saving and investing for retirement matter. Without them, life becomes difficult. Financial stability begins by making sure our basic needs are met.
The problem is that somewhere along the way, this practical financial distinction became something much bigger.
It became a philosophy.
We began treating need as a moral category and want as a character flaw.
Wanting something nicer started to feel selfish. Spending money on beauty, experiences, convenience, or comfort required an explanation. Even after years of disciplined saving and thoughtful planning, many people still feel the need to justify purchases that simply make life better.
We apologize for homes that bring us peace. Vacations that restore us. Time with family. A shorter commute. A hobby that gives us joy. A meal with friends. A neighborhood that feels alive.
We learned to feel responsible for meeting our needs and a little guilty for enjoying our wants.
Somewhere along the way, want became a guilty word.
And that’s unfortunate, because the distinction itself was never meant to carry that kind of weight.
Wants Are Needs Too
Wanting can be reckless.
It can be shaped by comparison, insecurity, impulse, or the desire to impress. It can leave us chasing more while enjoying less. It can confuse possessions with identity and consumption with fulfillment.
But wanting is capable of much more than that.
A person may want a home that feels peaceful. Work that carries meaning. More time with family. The freedom to leave an unhealthy environment. A community where they feel known. Beauty in the spaces they inhabit. Rest without apology. Experiences that deepen relationships and become part of a family’s story.
They may also want things that are made better. A well-built home. Quality materials. Thoughtful craftsmanship. Clothes that fit well and last. A beautifully engineered automobile they enjoy driving. Services that save time and reduce friction in everyday life.
Heaven forbid someone wants something better, not to impress others, but because it genuinely improves the way they live.
Better materials. Better craftsmanship. Better design. Better service. Better experiences.
Sometimes it’s the environment itself—a neighborhood in which to raise a family, build a career, or simply enjoy the life they’ve worked hard to create.
And sometimes a want is simply a want.
Sometimes just because is enough. Not every financial decision needs to justify itself in your financial statements before it can enrich your life.
Somewhere along the way, we began treating the word luxury as though it were synonymous with excess. We also began treating the premium paid for quality as frivolous rather than thoughtful, intentional, or simply an expression of personal preference.
It isn’t.
Luxury is not the opposite of wisdom. Nor should it be confused with excess, conspicuous consumption, or a life untethered from one’s values.
Like every other financial decision, luxury should be evaluated not by its price tag, but by its place within a life that is intentionally planned, sustainably funded, and aligned with what matters most.
Yet our financial vocabulary flattens all of these decisions into a single category: wants.
And once everything becomes a want, everything becomes easier to dismiss.
Many Wants Are Expressions of Needs
If we stop looking only at what people buy and begin asking why they want it, something interesting happens.
The conversation changes.
A larger home is rarely just about square footage. It may be about gathering family around one table, creating a quiet place to think, or finding peace in the neighborhood where you return each evening.
A beautifully engineered automobile is rarely just about getting from one place to another. It may reflect an appreciation for craftsmanship, comfort during long hours on the road, confidence behind the wheel, or the simple enjoyment of driving something exceptionally well made.
A custom suit is rarely about fabric alone. A work of art may preserve a memory. A sabbatical may restore a life consumed by work. A piece of jewelry purchased for no particular occasion can become a quiet reminder that life isn’t meant to be postponed indefinitely.
Experiences tell a similar story.
Flying business or first class is rarely just about a wider seat. It may mean arriving rested enough to perform at your best, beginning a vacation with energy instead of exhaustion, or reducing the physical toll of long-distance travel.
A hobby may look like discretionary spending to someone else, yet become the place where you create, recover, connect, compete, or simply remember who you are outside of work.
Whether it’s fitness, fishing, woodworking, photography, hiking, gardening, music, cooking, beauty, collecting, or something entirely your own, those pursuits often become part of your identity as much as your enjoyment.
The purchase is visible. The deeper human need the want expresses often isn’t.
That distinction matters.
People are allowed to spend money to create the conditions for a meaningful life, express who they are, and simply choose something that brings them joy.
Those motivations aren’t signs of financial weakness.
They’re part of being human.
That’s why the language of needs and wants has always felt incomplete. It tells us what keeps us alive.
Financial Harmony, through the Five Permissions of Wealth, asks a different question.
What helps us live well, in alignment with our person, our phase of life, our preferences, our purpose, and our plan? What helps us prosper?
Many of the things we’ve been taught to call wants are actually expressions of deeply human needs.
A Different Question
When my wife and I decided to move, we weren’t confusing a want with a need.
We were recognizing that the life we’re building asks something different of us than the life we were living before.
Not because our previous home wasn’t enough.
But because we aren’t the same people who chose it.
The environment we choose shapes the way we work, parent, rest, connect, and experience everyday life. Those aren’t distractions from financial planning. They’re among the very reasons financial planning exists.
That’s the conversation I have with clients every day.
We certainly discuss cash flow, taxes, investments, retirement, estate planning, insurance, and risk management. Those decisions matter because they form the foundation of a well-designed financial plan.
But eventually our conversations arrive somewhere deeper.
We begin asking what kind of life those decisions are meant to support.
The answer is personal and different for everyone. For some, it’s more time with family. For others, it’s the freedom to retire earlier, pursue meaningful work, or simply say yes to a life that is intentionally planned, sustainably funded, and aligned.
Those conversations remind me that financial planning has always been about more than money.
A financial plan should certainly help keep us financially secure. Financial Harmony asks something more.
How can our money help us live well? How can it help us prosper?
Money is not just a tool. It’s a partner in living well.
Author’s Note: The idea behind Wants Are Needs Too first appeared in my book, Wealth in the Key of Life, in the chapter Aligning Money With Values. It remains one of the foundational principles within the Financial Harmony philosophy.
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Wealth in the Key of Life (Book)
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