If you prioritize these 7 values over income, you're already living a richer life than you realize

I spent my twenties chasing a bigger paycheck. More freelance gigs, more assignments, more hustle. The number in my bank account became this weird scorecard I checked obsessively, like it could tell me whether I was winning at life.

Then one Saturday morning, I watched my grandmother volunteer at the food bank like she does every week. She raised four kids on a teacher's salary, never made much money, and yet she seemed genuinely content in a way I couldn't quite grasp. That's when it hit me: I had confused being rich with living richly.

Turns out, there's a whole other currency most of us overlook. These seven values might not boost your net worth, but they'll make you feel wealthier than any promotion ever could.

1) Meaningful relationships

Here's something nobody tells you when you're grinding for that raise: the people who show up when things fall apart are worth more than any salary bump.

I learned this the hard way during my aggressive vegan evangelist phase about six years back. I was so busy being right that I damaged friendships, including nearly ruining my friend Sarah's birthday dinner with my sanctimonious speech about factory farming. Real smooth.

What brought us back together wasn't my income or accomplishments. It was me finally learning to shut up, listen, and value connection over being correct. Sarah now does Meatless Mondays, and I'm back on the birthday dinner invite list.

The research backs this up too. Studies consistently show that strong social connections are one of the biggest predictors of happiness and longevity, far outweighing financial status. Yet we spend more time networking for career advancement than nurturing the relationships that actually matter.

If you prioritize deep friendships and family bonds over climbing the corporate ladder, you're already accessing a form of wealth that money literally cannot buy.

2) Personal growth over status

There's this weird thing that happens when you stop measuring yourself by external markers. You actually start becoming someone you'd want to hang out with.

I used to define success by bylines and followers. Now? I measure it by whether I'm less of an asshole than I was last year. Whether I'm learning something that genuinely interests me, not just something that looks impressive on LinkedIn.

This shift happened gradually. I started reading behavioral science journals not to sound smart at parties, but because I was genuinely curious about why humans do the baffling things we do. I picked up photography not for Instagram likes, but because capturing light and shadow felt meditative.

People who prioritize growth over status have this quiet confidence that's impossible to fake. They're not constantly performing or proving. They're just genuinely engaged with becoming better versions of themselves.

That's a richness no corner office can provide.

3) Time freedom

What's the point of a six-figure salary if you're too exhausted to enjoy a sunset?

I had a wake-up call about this during my music blogging days. I was reviewing three albums a day, taking every assignment, terrified of saying no. I had money coming in, sure, but I couldn't remember the last time I'd just wandered around Venice Beach with my camera without mentally composing an article about it.

Time is the one resource you can't earn back. No amount of money will give you another Tuesday afternoon in your thirties. No promotion will return the weekend you spent answering emails instead of cooking an elaborate Thai curry just because you felt like it.

If you've structured your life to protect your time, even if it means earning less, you understand something that took me way too long to figure out: time is the actual luxury good.

The people I know who feel richest aren't the ones with the biggest houses. They're the ones who can take a spontaneous afternoon off to hike Runyon Canyon or spend three hours at the farmers market talking to vendors.

4) Creative expression

Making things for the pure joy of it, with no monetization strategy attached, is radical in our current economy. It's also one of the most enriching things you can do.

I brew kombucha in my kitchen. It makes my apartment smell weird, and I'm definitely not saving money compared to buying it. But there's something deeply satisfying about the process, about understanding the fermentation, about experimenting with different flavor combinations.

Same with cooking. I spend Sunday afternoons testing new recipes, making cashew cheese from scratch, trying to nail the perfect lentil bolognese. My partner thinks I'm slightly unhinged given that good vegan food is now available everywhere in LA. But it's not about efficiency or even the end result.

Creative pursuits give you this sense of agency and capability that no job can provide. You're not optimizing for someone else's metrics. You're just making something because you want it to exist.

Whether it's painting, writing, woodworking, or perfecting your sourdough starter, having creative outlets that aren't tied to income or productivity is its own form of wealth. It reminds you that you're more than your job title or bank balance.

5) Alignment between values and actions

Living according to your actual beliefs, even when it's inconvenient, creates this internal coherence that feels better than any bonus check.

Eight years ago, I watched a documentary about industrial farming and went vegan within 48 hours. I cleaned out my fridge, donated my leather jacket, and completely changed how I ate. It wasn't easy. My family thought I'd lost it. Dating got complicated. Social situations became minefields.

But here's the thing: I felt wealthier in a way I couldn't quite articulate. I wasn't performing ethics or posturing. I had simply aligned my actions with what I believed, and that alignment felt like freedom.

This doesn't mean being rigid or evangelical (trust me, I learned that lesson the hard way). It means the gap between who you say you are and who you actually are gets smaller. You're not constantly negotiating with yourself or making excuses.

People who live aligned with their values, whatever those values are, have this groundedness that's impossible to achieve through external achievement alone. They're not rich in the traditional sense, but they're also not hollowed out by cognitive dissonance.

6) Experiences over possessions

The stuff I bought in my twenties is mostly gone or forgotten. The memories from travel, concerts, and random adventures? Those are still paying dividends.

I spent a month backpacking through Southeast Asia years ago, staying in questionable hostels and eating street food. I probably spent less than I would have on one month's rent in Venice Beach. But those experiences shaped how I see the world, sparked my interest in different cuisines, and gave me stories I still reference.

The hedonic treadmill is real with possessions. You get the thing, feel excited for a week, then it becomes invisible. But experiences actually appreciate over time in your memory. They become part of your identity.

This doesn't mean never buying anything. I invested in decent camera equipment because photography brings me joy. But I prioritize spending on experiences, meals with friends, and travel over accumulating more stuff.

If your discretionary income goes toward concerts, cooking classes, weekend trips, or trying new restaurants rather than upgrading your car or buying designer clothes, you're building a different kind of wealth. One that compounds in your memory and enriches your perspective.

7) Contribution and purpose

Doing something that matters to someone beyond yourself creates meaning that a paycheck can't touch.

My grandmother volunteers at the food bank every Saturday. She's been doing it for years, long after retiring from teaching. She doesn't get paid, obviously. But watching her interact with the people who come through, seeing how she remembers their names and asks about their kids, I realized she's rich in purpose.

I've tried to find my own version of this. Sometimes it's answering questions about plant-based cooking when people genuinely ask (after learning not to preach unsolicited). Sometimes it's mentoring younger writers who are figuring out the freelance hustle. Nothing heroic or impressive.

But having something you do that contributes to others, that serves some purpose beyond your own advancement, changes the texture of your days. Work becomes about more than just paying bills. Life feels connected to something larger.

If you've found ways to contribute, to be useful, to make things slightly better for people around you, you're experiencing a richness that has nothing to do with your income bracket.

Conclusion

Look, money matters. I'm not going to pretend paying rent isn't important or that financial security doesn't reduce stress. It absolutely does.

But somewhere along the way, many of us confused financial wealth with the only kind of wealth that exists. We optimized for salary while neglecting the things that actually make life feel rich: relationships, growth, time, creativity, alignment, experiences, and purpose.

If you're prioritizing these values, even when it means earning less or advancing slower, you're already living a life that many high-earners would envy. You're just measuring it by a different, arguably more honest, metric.

The real question isn't whether you're making enough money. It's whether you're living richly, whatever your income happens to be.