Value add from a 24-year-old advisor

I still had acne when I was 24 and my facial hair made me look like I was still in grade 10. That always made first meetings with potential clients who were in their mid to late 60s a bit awkward.

Who was I to tell someone how to manage their life savings when I had no experience and not a penny to my name?

The people who trained me reminded me of all the important things to say. One stuck with me. “If they give you a hard time because you’re young, confidently tell them that you’re here for a reason. Most people will respect you for saying that. And if that fails, let them know you’ll be their advisor until they’re dead.”

It surprised me how much comfort people found in that second part. And I didn’t realize it at the time, but now, fifteen years later, I get it. Getting old is scary. I turn 39 in May. Injuries take weeks to heal when they used to take days. I can still exercise a hang over out of me, but now I need a nap later in the day when I didn’t before.

I can only imagine what it’s like for the people who fifteen years ago were 68 and are now 83.

Fifteen years is a long time. The one thing those people who trained me didn’t mention is that telling someone you’ll be working with them until they’re dead means you actually have to see it happen. Then you have to disburse their estate while having terrible (and wonderful) conversations with executors and beneficiaries.

Excess winter mortality is real. These past few months have been tough. People I’ve known for close to fifteen years are gone or going. These are people I’ve spoken to monthly for over a decade. I’m lucky that they introduced me to their executors early, but that doesn’t make this any easier.

Grief is one hell of an emotion. Everyone handles it differently. I’ve been lucky in that all the people really close to me are all still here. All my grandparents are gone and I’ve lost some friends and some friends of friends, but I still haven’t lost a parent or a sibling.*

Whenever I’m notified of the death of a client or the death of someone close in a client’s life, I have to handle it professionally. It’s a trope but I handle it like a Boomer father. Tough, composed, empathetic, and always stern. There have been times when I receive bad news and I have to take a long deep breath to keep the lump in my throat from turning into tears in my eyes, but I’ve never had my emotions get the best of me.

It’s a tough part of this job that people don’t tell you about. Those people who told me to say “I’ll be your advisor until you’re dead” didn’t warn me about how terrible that actually is. I maintain my professionalism when I receive bad news, but doing so is one of the most difficult parts of this job.

I was lucky that a whole hell of a lot of people thirty, forty, and fifty (one even sixty) years older than me trusted me to manage their life savings when I was 24. I told them back then, that I’d be their advisor until they died. I meant it back then, and I mean it now: I’m here for a reason, and I’ll be here until you’re gone.

*I’ve lost pets. That’s a whole other post. If you’re interested, I think Jared Dillian’s piece about losing a pet touches on everything important https://wggtb.substack.com/p/the-risk-of-love