The Two Financial Milestones I Set Before Quitting My Six-Figure Tech Job

I want to quit my six figure job in tech to take a mini retirement. In this job market, I know that sounds insane. So I didn't do it on a feeling — I gave myself two financial milestones that had to be true before I'd hand in a notice.

• Hit Coast FIRE for retirement at 50. Enough money already invested that I could stop adding to it entirely and still retire at 50.
• Hit a set recurring revenue in my business that covers all of my expenses during the break.

I've hit both. The Coast FIRE number I just crossed. The business number I've hit on average for the last 18 months, so I feel good calling that one done.

The only thing left is the part that has nothing to do with math: actually quitting.

Coast FIRE is the point where the money you've already invested, left alone to grow, is projected to be enough for retirement at a specific age — without another dollar of new contributions. You're not retired. You're coasting. Work still has to cover your living costs, but it no longer has to fund your future.

That's the milestone I picked on purpose. My biggest fear about a sabbatical or a mini retirement was that I'd be borrowing from my actual retirement to pay for a break in my thirties. Coast FIRE was my way of taking that fear off the table. If I stop investing for the rest of my life, I still retire at 50.

At the same time, I didn't want to wait until 50 to have any life at all. I wanted a break from corporate while I'm younger, so I can enjoy my life now instead of saving all of it for later. Coast FIRE let me hold both of those things at once instead of picking one.

Worth saying plainly: it's a projection, not a promise. It rests on assumptions about growth and about the age you're aiming for. Mine is the number I'm comfortable with for my life — someone else's inputs would produce a completely different number.

Investments handle the far-off version of me. They don't pay rent next month. That's what the second milestone was for.

Instead of planning to drain savings during my break, I wanted recurring revenue from my business to cover my expenses while I'm not on payroll. I've worked so hard to build my income streams online, and watching that number land where I needed it, month after month for 18 months, is what made this feel like a decision instead of a gamble.

The averaging matters to me too. Online income isn't a salary — it moves. One strong month proves nothing. A run of months that averages out to the number I need is a very different piece of information.

Both milestones are met, and I'm still sitting here with the notice unsent. That tells you something about how this actually works.

It is so easy to stick with the devil you know. To keep working two full-time jobs, 60 to 80 hours a week, for the next 10 years, because it's familiar and it looks responsible from the outside. But that is not living to me. I want to use money to build a life I really love, not just a spreadsheet that says I'm fine.

And I want to keep promises to myself. I set the conditions. I met the conditions. Moving the goalposts now would just be fear wearing a planning costume.

So it's time to dive into the next chapter.

My numbers are mine, and they only make sense inside my life — my expenses, my target retirement age, my business. But the shape of the decision is what I'd look at:

• What does the break cost, month by month? Not a vague sense of it. The actual number your expenses come to.
• Where is that money coming from during the break? Income, savings, or some mix — and how long it holds.
• What happens to your long-term investing while you're off? Pausing contributions is a real trade-off, and it's worth seeing it clearly before you make it, not after.
• How steady is the income you're leaning on? One good month and an 18-month average tell you very different stories.
• What are you giving up beyond salary? Benefits and other job-linked things belong in the picture too.

None of that produces a yes or a no for anyone but you. What it does is turn a scary leap into a set of numbers you can actually look at — which, for me, is the only reason I'm able to make this one.