Three Things I Do That Might Sound Wrong (But Aren't)

People assume that because I do this for a living, I live a textbook financial life. Every decision optimised. Every box ticked.

I don't.

Some of what I do—and some of what I don't—might sound controversial. Here are three.

1. I don't count the house I live in.

When I look at my own net worth, I leave my home out entirely. Not because it has no value. It obviously does. But the cash value of the house is a lot less than it looks.

To unlock it, I have to sell. That takes time, and the transaction costs are not small. And then I need somewhere to live. Buy or rent, either way a new cost arrives on the other side of the sale. Whatever I released gets consumed by the act of releasing it. The value gets eaten by the very act of realising it.

People like to quote a number: price of the flat, minus the loan outstanding. Home equity. It's a satisfying figure. It is also not a figure I can use. The real number is meaningfully smaller, after accounting for the cost of changing accommodation.

And I can't calculate it, because I don't know what I'd be moving into, or when, or what it would cost by then. I live in an HDB flat, which narrows the options further. There is only so far down you can go.

So rather than plan against a number I can't verify, I plan against a number I'm sure of. I set the house value at zero.

I would rather work with an honest low number than a flattering high number I cannot spend.

There's also the part nobody can quantify. Emotions.

I raised a family in this flat. If I ever sell it, the decision will carry an emotional weight, because I am selling my memories. I have no such attachment to my investment portfolio. That attachment alone tells me the house belongs in a different category.

2. I top up my CPF, and I'm aiming for the Full Retirement Sum.

This one surprises other consultants more than it surprises clients. We have tools. Products, structures, strategies, a whole cabinet of them. And here I am, deliberately funnelling money into the most ordinary vehicle available to any Singaporean. Not as an afterthought. As an intentional goal.

Two reasons.

The first is unglamorous: within the prevailing limits, my contributions attract tax relief.

The second: CPF is the safe part of my portfolio, stability I don't need to think about. Low cost—monetarily and mentally—and the low-risk base everything else sits on. And because it's designed to keep paying for as long as I live, through CPF LIFE, it functions as the annuity layer of my plan.

Yes, I give up liquidity. Yes, I give up flexibility. But I also free up cognitive load. And since I know exactly what I'm trading, I make the trade with open eyes.

What's more, I'm not merely accepting that I can't reach the money. I'm choosing it. I tell clients that the biggest threat to a portfolio is the investor: we sell when we're frightened and buy when we're excited. I am not exempt from that; I have to fight that urge from time to time. So I've put part of my base somewhere my panicking self cannot get to it.

I didn't lock the money away from the market. I locked it away from me.

(This is what I do and why. It isn't a recommendation. Whether CPF top-ups make sense for you depends on your age, your tax position, your liquidity needs and your goals. Please speak to your own financial planner.) And if you'd like to think it through with someone, reach out.

3. My wife and I keep separate finances.

Here's the one that catches people off guard, and the one with the most nuance.

Most advice for married couples runs the other way. Talk about money together. Share accounts. Build one plan, one household, one set of numbers. Contribute fairly to a joint account.

We don't. Our day-to-day money is separate.

It isn't friction. If anything it's the opposite. We spend similarly, live similarly, want similar things. The usual arguments for a merged approach simply aren't there. We don't fight over the bills; whoever is closer picks up the tab.

And I'd say the reverse just as plainly: if you and your spouse are at odds about money, that is precisely when you need the shared account and the difficult conversation. Couples who see money differently benefit far more from combining than couples who already agree.

We get to keep things separate only because we don't face the problems of separated finances.

So far, consistent. But that is not to say everything is separate.

We discuss major expenses. And when it comes to investments, increasingly, I place them under her. I manage them. The research, the rebalancing, the reviews. But they sit under her, and I treat her exactly as I'd treat any other client. I explain what I'm doing and why. I document it. She signs off. I wear the advisor hat, she wears the client hat.

Why?

Because of the day one of us isn't here. Specifically me.

If I die, she doesn't have to go looking. No hunt through my files to find the money. No having to figure out how to take ownership of the assets. It's already hers, already accessible, already in her name. I've also set it up to need as little management as possible, so that she is free to take care of the things that matter.

And if she goes first? I don't need to go looking either. I'm the family advisor. I know exactly where every dollar sits, and I'm better equipped to take it over.

This deliberate merging, if I can call it that, is the point. The alternative—my wife trying to locate and access money on the worst day of her life—is not a cost I'm willing to hand her.

So what do the three have in common?

Not much, on the surface. A flat, a CPF statement, and a family financial planning strategy.

But they point the same way: towards a life my family can live purposefully, and one that still works if I'm not in it.

Let me know your thoughts!

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I write on topics related to financial habits and decisions. Do explore my other articles at https://www.williamseah.com/blog if the ideas resonate. Drop me an email at reach.william@gmail.com or text me at 9673 1523 if you'd like to chat over coffee or whisky.