My Biggest Financial Tech Regrets
Since I can't openly talk about my investment journey, because it could sound like I am giving investment advice, I thought I would share my financial perspective through something more personal: my tech regrets.
Long story short, I come from a humble background—not rich, but not extremely poor either. Once my parent became financially stable, my mother rarely said no to the technology I asked for.
There was a reason behind some of it. I wasn't particularly good at school in my early years. But when I reached college, something changed. I became very good at my studies.
My first iPhone was an iPhone SE. My mother bought it for me after I cleared my 10th-grade mathematics exam. Later, after I passed 12th-grade mathematics, I got another iPhone SE.
When I entered college and started getting good marks, my mother bought me my first gaming laptop, an Acer Nitro 5—the same laptop I still use today.
But I soon realised something important:
I wasn't really a gamer.
The gaming laptop was overkill for someone like me. I mostly used it for watching movies, studying, and other everyday tasks.
Then came one of my biggest mistakes.
I wanted a better-quality display, so I asked my mother for a MacBook. At the time, she was financially capable of buying it, and she did.
Let me be clear: this was before I took financial responsibility for my family and started making the financial decisions that eventually helped make us more stable. That stability came later—and some of the mistakes I made along the way helped teach me how to get there.
The MacBook mistake
I bought the MacBook Air with the M1 chip.
And honestly, it was a good laptop.
The display was beautiful, the machine was fast, and I used it for video editing. I even discovered that I had a good sense of editing. But eventually, I realised that I wasn't actually cut out for making YouTube videos.
Then something else happened.
Within about two years, the keyboard developed a problem.
Ironically, my Acer laptop had also experienced a keyboard problem. But repairing the Acer was relatively straightforward and cost-effective.
The MacBook was a different story.
The repair cost was so high that, at one point, I was being asked to pay around 30–40% of what I had originally paid for the laptop. The problem wasn't simply that something had failed. What bothered me was the repair approach: instead of replacing only the failed component, the repair involved replacing a much larger assembly.
That was the moment something clicked in my head.
I started thinking:
"If I spend this much money repairing a laptop that I don't even need for my daily life, am I actually making a rational financial decision?"
My answer was no.
That MacBook became one of my biggest financial/product regrets—not because it was a bad computer, but because it was an expensive solution to a problem I didn't really have.
After that experience, I stopped buying expensive technology.
Instead, I became much more interested in putting my money into assets and learning about investing. Over time, I became far more conscious about where my money goes.
And today, I'm glad I learned that lesson early.
Why young people make expensive mistakes
I believe there are certain periods in life when you can afford to take more risks.
One is when you're young, because you have time to recover from mistakes.
The other is later in life, when you have accumulated experience and resources and may be able to take calculated risks again.
But the important thing about taking risks when you're young is understanding what those risks can teach you.
My mistakes weren't limited to technology.
At one point, I also spent money on Instagram marketing for a meme page. Looking back, I consider that money poorly spent. I personally wouldn't put money into that kind of promotion again. I also recognise that Instagram's advertising and promotion tools may have changed since then, so I'm speaking about my own experience rather than making a universal claim about how the platform works today.
Those mistakes were small compared with what I could have lost later in life.
And that's why I value them.
They taught me something I carry into my financial life today:
I can make a mistake. But I can't afford to make the same mistake twice.
That has become one of my personal rules.
I don't believe financial stability comes from never making mistakes. I think it comes from learning quickly enough that the same mistake doesn't keep repeating.
That's also why I created the Mistake Ledger in ArtyTools—to record mistakes, what I learned from them, and what I should remember in the future.
Because sometimes the best financial education isn't a textbook.
Sometimes it's the receipt for something you regret buying.
The Debt Behind Those Purchases
There is one important part of this story I left out: both laptops were actually bought using personal loans.
My mother had a stable income and was eligible for a personal loan from the bank. At the time, we thought we could manage it. But looking back, taking on that debt was one of our biggest financial mistakes—especially when paying for college was already a major responsibility.
My mother had said no to many things during my childhood. But when I started doing well in my studies, she wanted to give me the best she could. The laptops and other things she bought for me came from a place of love and encouragement.
But even good intentions can come with a financial cost.
Fortunately, things eventually turned out well.
As I became financially responsible, I strategically worked toward clearing all our debts. Today, we are 100% debt-free. We aren't extremely rich, but we are much more financially stable than we were before—and I'm grateful that I was able to reach that position at a relatively young age.
One of the biggest lessons I learned was that I didn't need to keep borrowing money to build myself.
I started using the resources and opportunities I already had.
That, to me, is one of the secrets of living a financially stable life: learning to build with what you already have instead of constantly borrowing to appear ahead.
Debt changes the game
There is also something I think people sometimes forget when comparing personal finances with businesses.
A corporation can sometimes take enormous amounts of debt, restructure it, sell assets, or even declare bankruptcy when things go badly. An individual doesn't have the same luxury. Your life doesn't have a corporate balance sheet that you can simply liquidate and walk away from.
If you take on huge personal debts and your income suddenly collapses, selling a car, expensive electronics, or other unnecessary purchases may not save you.
And there is another problem.
Many things people consider "assets" are actually depreciating possessions.
A car generally loses value over time. Electronics lose value even faster. A laptop that cost a large amount of money when you bought it may be worth only a fraction of that price a few years later.
They can be useful. They can improve your quality of life. They can even help you earn money in some situations.
But that doesn't automatically make them investments.
An investment is something you expect to generate or preserve value in a meaningful way. A piece of technology purchased simply for entertainment or convenience is usually a consumption expense, not an investment.
That's why my approach to technology changed completely.
I don't think people should never buy expensive technology. If something genuinely serves your needs, helps you work, creates something valuable, or significantly improves your life, it can be worth the money.
But buying something simply because you want it—and financing it with debt—is a very different decision.
My rule became simple:
Buy things because they solve a real need, not because you can somehow afford the monthly payment.
That distinction changed the way I think about money.
I learned that financial stability isn't about owning the most expensive things you can obtain.
Sometimes it's about being perfectly happy with what you already have—and using it exceptionally well.
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Learning to Take Risks
There is another lesson I learned that isn't directly related to technology or money, but it changed the way I look at risk.
When I first started travelling, I was completely new to exploring places outside my hometown. As a college student, I had a limited budget, so I could only afford to visit a few places.
My first trip went well because I planned everything carefully.
Then came my second trip.
I travelled to a hill station where there was a toy train that travelled through the mountains to another town.
I had never done anything like that before.
I didn't know the route.
I wasn't sure whether I would find a taxi at the other end.
I didn't even know whether I would have reliable network coverage.
And yet, one morning, I found myself standing at the station, thinking:
"Am I taking too big a risk?"
I bought the ticket anyway.
And somehow, I even got a window seat.
While I was waiting at the station, still wondering whether I had made the right decision, I noticed a poster on the wall.
It said:
"Do your best. Leave the rest."
Those words stayed with me.
I trusted God and decided to go.
And eventually, things worked out.
A kind taxi person helped me when I arrived, and I was able to explore deeper into the mountains. Later, he helped me catch a bus back to where I needed to go.
There was no convenient return journey on the toy train that day. If there had been no bus, or if I hadn't found the right person to help me, things could have become much more complicated.
But they didn't.
On the bus ride back, I remember sitting there with a big smile on my face.
I had taken a risk.
And I had learned that sometimes you don't need to know exactly how everything will work out before you begin.
Risk isn't the same as recklessness
That's probably the biggest lesson I've taken from all of this.
Taking risks doesn't mean jumping blindly into everything.
Sometimes it means doing your homework, understanding what you can lose, preparing as much as possible—and then accepting that you cannot control everything.
That's how I now look at risk and reward.
I plan.
I learn.
I accept that I can make mistakes.
And when something is beyond my control, I do my best and leave the rest to God.
My financial journey taught me to become more rational.
My mistakes taught me to become more careful.
And travelling taught me that being careful doesn't mean being afraid of everything.
Sometimes you have to take the train.
Sometimes you have to sit by the window.
And sometimes you simply have to trust that you'll figure out the rest when you get there.
If you want to know the bigger story behind these lessons, I write about my life, ideas, philosophy, activism, and wisdom through my free book on Instagram. It is a lifelong creative project for me, and in many ways, writing and sharing it is another risk I'm choosing to take.
I don't rely only on my own strength.
I do my best, and I leave the rest to God.
-Godwin Issac
📌 About My Gaming Laptop:
Yes, I finally use my gaming laptop for what it was actually built for—gaming. I play games like Tomb Raider, Forza Horizon 4, American Truck Simulator, Euro Truck Simulator 2, and others.
I also realised that gamers are talented too. Many people assume that gamers are lazy or unproductive, but I don't think that's fair. In today's world, which is filled with distractions and all kinds of unhealthy addictions, I see gaming as a relatively good form of entertainment—as long as it doesn't interfere with your responsibilities, health, relationships, or other important parts of life.
Like anything else, gaming is about balance. If you can enjoy it without allowing it to control your life, I don't see anything wrong with it.
Extra note : let me be honest, I'm not a pro at gaming. The one game I've actually been good at is Clash of Clans on mobile, which I've been playing for more than a decade.
But lately, I've felt that the game has been moving in a direction that doesn't align with my Christian values. Some of the newer characters and designs feel increasingly demonic or dark to me, which is sad to see because I remember the game for its much simpler and more positive character designs.
This isn't a conspiracy theory or an accusation against the developers. It's simply my personal observation and opinion. I feel that as the game grew more popular and commercially successful, some of its creative choices started moving in a direction I personally don't like.
If you're a Christian, you may understand why I notice these changes more strongly. At the same time, I respect that other players may see the designs completely differently.
I still play Clash of Clans, but I simply ignore the content and characters that I don't feel comfortable with. I can enjoy the parts of the game I like without accepting everything it introduces.
My base (I pixelated my clan name for privacy, I am not active in clan wars anymore)
Did I write a lengthy chapter? 😅
Sorry, I just love writing. You should write a diary if you don’t post a book or have a blog like me. Writing makes my head feel feather-light, and I feel more satisfied knowing that I’ve put my wisdom out into the world. It lightens my mind because I can always read it again.
One more wisdom:
“They say the heaviest burden we carry is the weight of our thoughts. Don’t carry them alone; put them into words and let your mind breathe.”
📖 Read also: Start Your Own Blog — Don’t Be Afraid to Share Your Creativity
