What My Slow Life Actually Costs

Slow living comes with a cost. While this lifestyle may look peaceful on camera, there are real trade-offs behind it that others don't always see. So today, I want to share what my slow life actually cost me, financially, mentally, and emotionally. Because one of the questions I get asked most is, how much does a life like this actually cost? Many factors influence how much a slow and simple lifestyle costs. But before I share the numbers, I think it's important to explain the mindset behind them. My husband and I make a modest income from our online work, and we don't really plan to increase our work hours. At this stage of life, having more time and flexibility matters more to us than maximizing our income. Because of that, we've intentionally built a lifestyle with lower expenses. Since moving to Chiang Mai, Thailand, in 2018, we've been able to keep our rent and utilities at around 17,000 Thai Baht a month, which we split between us. We rent a simple house outside the city center that fits our life well. It's easy to clean, easy to maintain, and honestly, this space is enough for the two of us. Over the years, I've realized that what I wanted wasn't necessarily a bigger home. I just wanted a home that supported the kind of life I wanted to live. Our other major expense is food and groceries, which averages around 15,000 Thai Baht a month. Most weeks, our shopping looks pretty similar. Vegetables, fruits, rice, coffee, and some ingredients for simple meals we make at home. We still buy treats every now and then. Maybe some corn chips or durian when it's in season, which is one of those foods that people seem to either love or hate. Compared to how I used to shop, there's a lot less impulse buying these days, and we spend far less on convenience than we once did. Slowing down changed my relationship with spending more than I expected. At the same time, living more simply didn't mean giving up everything I enjoy. I think sometimes people hear the words, simple living, and imagine a kind of lifestyle where you own the bare minimum and very few possessions. And if that approach brings someone peace and fulfillment, that's perfectly fine. But personally, that's never been my goal. I still love good coffee, books, painting, creative projects, and sharing meaningful moments with family and friends. For me, the difference is that these days, I'm a little more intentional about where my money goes. In the past, I think I spent more money chasing novelty, buying things because I was bored, stressed, or simply because it felt like something to do. Now I find a lot more satisfaction in experiences, creativity, and simple routines. And when life slows down, you become much more aware of what truly adds meaning to your days, and what is simply filling space. But lower expenses are only one part of the story. The bigger question is how I actually support this lifestyle financially. And honestly, that's probably been one of the biggest trade-offs behind this life. You see, years ago, I was working as a teacher while raising my son on my own. I remember feeling exhausted much of the time. Not because I disliked teaching. In fact, I was grateful for that career. But I constantly felt like there wasn't enough time. Time to think, time to rest, time to simply be present. By the end of the day, it often felt like I had given most of my energy to my work, and I was simply coming home with whatever was left over. Eventually, I realized that what I wanted wasn't necessarily a different job. I just wanted a different relationship with my time. For the past 15 years, I've built a freelance career working with clients online. It's not the kind of career that comes with obvious status markers. But somewhere along the way, I stopped caring so much about climbing the ladder or proving myself through work. These days, I'm content doing meaningful work for clients I believe in, earning enough to support our life, and having the flexibility to shape my days in a way that feels aligned with my values. For me, slow living never meant working less or not working at all. It just meant working differently and accepting the uncertainty that comes with that. Another question that I get asked a lot is whether YouTube financially supports the lifestyle that we have. And honestly, not really. I mean, the channel earns a little. It really depends on the RPM. But it's nowhere close to fully supporting our lifestyle at all. Most of my income still comes from my freelance career, and I'm generally okay with that. Because my freelance job gives us the financial foundation for our lifestyle, I don't feel pressured to constantly put out content or turn this channel into something that it is not. So whenever I put out a video, it's because I generally like to share something that I'm learning or going through or experiencing myself, and to create videos that actually interest me. It's no longer about chasing algorithms, or what's trending, or what's viral, or something like that. I would be honest that at some point, I wanted to be more competitive on YouTube and set a certain number of how many subscribers do I want to get by the end of the year, or what's my target RPM by the end of the year. But I just gave up on that because I felt like the more I put so much pressure on myself and keep chasing numbers, the less interested I become in creating content. And that's not really something that I wanted in the beginning, so why force myself to do that? I've realized that I'm not really interested in turning this channel into another form of race. So for me, just having that clarity of what I want, and making sure that my actions align with my values, that's really very important to me and that has an impact on how I live my day-to-day. Slow living doesn't mean life suddenly becomes easy or stress-free. I still have responsibilities, deadlines, difficult days, and worries about the future like everyone else. But I think the difference is in the pace and intention behind how I live now. So yes, slow living does come with a cost. For me, that cost has been giving up some certainty, some status, and some of the expectations I once had for my life. But when I look at what I've gained in return, more flexibility, more presence, and a life that feels much more like my own, it's a trade-off I would make again.