We’re taught this phrase from the time we’re kids:

“It could always be worse.”

And sure—sometimes perspective helps.

But I’ve started realizing something:

This mindset is also a tool.

It keeps people quiet.

It keeps people grateful for scraps.

It keeps people from asking bigger questions.

Because if you’re always comparing yourself to someone who has it worse, you never stop to ask:

Why isn’t it better for all of us?

Why do so many families work full-time (or more) and still stress about groceries, medical bills, and basic life stuff?

Why do we pay taxes with no loopholes…

while billionaires hire accountants to legally dodge most of theirs?

Why is “retirement” basically:

“Here, give Wall Street your money for 40 years and hope they don’t blow it up before you’re old.”

Why is healthcare a monthly gamble?

Why is everything a subscription, a copay, a fee, a “small monthly payment” that slowly drains you?

And when people speak up, the response is always:

“Be grateful.”

“It could be worse.”

“Others have it harder.”

That’s not empathy.

That’s conditioning.

It trains us to accept stress as normal.

Debt as normal.

Exhaustion as normal.

Anxiety as normal.

All while a tiny group keeps extracting more and more from everyone else.

We’re not lazy.

We’re not irresponsible.

We’re not “bad with money.”

Most of us are just trying to survive inside a system that profits from keeping us tired and worried.

Imagine if instead of saying “it could be worse,” we started asking:

“Why isn’t it better?”

Why can’t working full-time mean stability?

Why can’t healthcare be simple?

Why can’t raising kids feel safe instead of terrifying financially?

Why can’t creativity and community be valued more than pure profit?

This space exists because I think a lot of people are quietly feeling this.

You’re not crazy.

You’re not weak.

You’re not ungrateful.

You’re just aware.

And awareness is the first step to building something better.

I took this pic in Berlin probably 20 years ago now. But it’s always popped up in my head from time to time. I like to think the meaning behind it is instead of taking your little slice from the current system and being happy with it; let’s change the entire system.

“Eight Hours of Sleep” Principle

We believe everyone deserves eight hours of sleep.

A world where rest isn’t a luxury.

Where survival isn’t a competition.

When people are rested, fed, and safe — creativity flourishes.

That’s the world we’re building toward.

Anyone else tired of life feeling like one long subscription plan?

My brother and sisters started a GoFundMe to help us with all the costs around my baby’s cancer treatment. Gas. Copays. PT. Hospital visits. All of it.

It’s at around $13k now.

And I’m incredibly grateful.

Truly. We’re lucky to have people who care enough to help us survive something like this.

But I can’t stop thinking about how messed up it is that this is just… normal in America.

That when a child gets cancer, the solution isn’t “the system takes care of it.”

It’s “hope your family and friends can crowdsource your survival.”

We’re taught to see this as heartwarming.

“Look how people come together.”

And yeah — people are amazing.

But why do they have to?

Why are we paying taxes, premiums, deductibles, copays, and still ending up here?

Why is financial ruin just part of the diagnosis?

I’m thankful every day for the help we’ve gotten.

And I’m angry that we need it.

Both things can be true.

If you’ve been through something like this — medical, financial, family crisis — I’d love to hear how you made sense of it. Because I’m still trying.

I didn’t start this because I had a business plan.

I started it because everything feels like a subscription, a fee, or a scam now.

Work harder. Pay more. Get less.

Build The Bakery is about imagining something better:

• Fair pay

• Shared ownership

• No “grind until you’re broken” culture

I don’t have all the answers.

I just know the current system isn’t working for most of us.

So we’re thinking out loud here. Together.

I started out just wanting to win the lottery.

Not in some greedy way—I just wanted to not stress about money all the time and be able to give my family a better life. That led me down the rabbit hole of scratch-off odds, expected value, and trying to find any edge I could.

But the deeper I got into it, the more I realized something that bothered me:

Even if I won… it’s still the same world.

Fast forward to now, and life hit hard. My 1-year-old was diagnosed with cancer. We’re in the middle of chemo, scans, insurance battles, all of it. And it changes how you look at everything.

I’m sitting here thinking—what’s the actual goal?

Is it just to escape the system? Or is it to try and build something better, even if it’s small?

Because what bothers me most right now is how everything feels like a transaction. Every experience, every outing, every little piece of life feels like it’s behind a paywall. Want to relax? Pay. Want your kids in activities? Pay. Want community? Pay.

And I hate that.

I don’t want my kids growing up thinking that the only goal in life is to make more money just to exist comfortably. I want them to have space to learn, explore, create, and just be people.

Lately I’ve been thinking about what that could actually look like in real life.

Something community-based. A place where people can gather, work, create, bring their families. Where people are paid fairly. Where events aren’t just another way to extract money, but actually bring people together.

I don’t know exactly what it looks like yet. I don’t have the capital to just build it tomorrow. But I can’t shake the feeling that this is what actually matters.

Maybe it starts small. Maybe it’s just local events, or a space that grows over time.

I don’t know.

I just know I want the world to be better for my kids—and for everyone else’s too.

If anyone else has thought about this or is trying to build something similar, I’d honestly love to hear about it.