You Almost Always Have a Choice
After a devastating loss made him question the life he was building, Jeremie André quit his job, sold almost everything, and spent four years travelling the world with his wife.
Welcome to The Intentional Life, an interview series featuring people who have built lives, careers, and businesses on their own terms. Some are entrepreneurs. Some are creatives, writers, travellers, builders, or leaders. What they have in common is a willingness to question the conventional path and make choices aligned with what matters most to them. My hope is that these conversations help you think differently about your own path and remind you that there is no single blueprint for a meaningful life.
For the first 30 years of his life, Jeremie André followed a path that looked much like the one we’re “supposed” to follow: a degree, a stable career, an apartment, marriage, and plans for a family. Then a devastating loss forced him to confront just how fragile life can be and question whether the life he was building was truly his.
What followed was a gradual awakening. Jeremie eventually quit his job, sold almost everything he owned, and spent four years travelling 18 countries with his wife. Today, he writes Beyond Ordinary, works as a coach, and continues to question the assumptions many of us inherit about what a good life is supposed to look like.
In this conversation, Jeremie shares why we often have more choice than we think, what four years of living out of a backpack taught him about what matters, and why the risk of changing your life may be smaller than the cost of staying where you are.
For readers who haven't come across your work, tell us a bit about yourself and the path that led you from France to Bangkok, entrepreneurship, and writing about intentional living.
I grew up in the South of France in a small town of 1,500 people. The first 30 years of my life were fairly traditional: good student, master’s degree in software development, stable career. The only unexpected thing I did in my 20s was a semester abroad in Australia, where I met my future wife, Rosie.
We moved in together and built the expected life: apartment, marriage, plans for a family. And that’s when everything changed. In 2017, six months into a pregnancy, we had to make the devastating decision to terminate for medical reasons. That experience cracked something open in me. I felt, deep in my core, the preciousness and fragility of life. I realized that nothing is guaranteed, and that I had been living a life designed for me by others.
We moved to Miami and rebuilt ourselves. I spent two years reading, questioning, working on myself. And by 2021, I had made up my mind: I quit my job, we sold everything, packed two backpacks, and started traveling the world. Four years, four continents, 18+ countries.
I started writing Beyond Ordinary in August 2024, just before launching my coaching practice. I wanted to share what I’d learned and hopefully show people that you don’t need to be special to live an extraordinary life. After four years of full-time travel, Rosie was ready to slow down and have a home base, so at the end of 2025 we settled in Bangkok - a city we both fell in love with during our travels.
You often write about questioning the conventional path. Was there a specific moment when you realized the life you were living no longer felt aligned?
Not a single moment, no. It was more of a slow awakening during 2019 and 2020.
After moving to Miami, I did a lot of work on myself. I read, I had conversations with people from all kinds of backgrounds, I invested in coaches. I saw regular people like you and me living amazing lives. All of that helped me see that until then, I had been living a life designed for me by my parents and society. My choices were technically mine, but they were built on 30 years of conditioning.
The real turning point was a fear-setting exercise I did in 2020, inspired by Tim Ferriss in The 4-Hour Workweek. The exercise forces you to clearly define what you’re afraid of, think through the worst-case scenarios, and then honestly ask yourself: what’s the real cost of NOT changing? When I did it, I realized I had nothing to fear. No matter what happened, I would be fine. The day after, I told my boss I’d be leaving in 12 months. There was no turning back.
Many people know they're unhappy with some aspect of their lives but never make a change. What do you think separates the people who act from the people who stay stuck?
Two things: fear and a lack of self-awareness.
Most people stay stuck because they’re terrified of the unknown. They’d rather stay unhappy in a familiar, comfortable life than take a leap and embrace real discomfort. That fear shows up in different ways: fear of failing, fear of being judged, fear of not being good enough, fear of what people will think. It all connects back to caring too much about others’ opinions.
And that’s where self-awareness comes in. We spend years lying to ourselves because we lack the awareness to honestly assess our lives and the choices we’ve made. It’s easier to blame circumstances or other people than to look in the mirror and accept that we have more control than we think. “I don’t have a choice” is something people say way too easily. You almost always have a choice.
People who act are the ones willing to make the hard ones, even when it means disappointing others.
You spent four years travelling across 18 countries with your wife. What did that experience teach you about what actually matters?
That very little actually matters.
As long as you’re healthy, and the people you love are healthy, everything else is pretty superficial. We overpacked when we left Miami, convinced we couldn’t live without certain things. A few weeks in, I couldn’t even remember what most of it was. That said it all.
During those four years, I wore the same five t-shirts and four shorts. I slept in rooms that were sometimes very uncomfortable. I ate street food most days. Life had to be simple to fit in two backpacks. And despite all of that, I’ve never been as happy as I was during those four years.
All the comfort that society and capitalism convince us we need, it’s largely an illusion. Less really is more. I was spending 24/7 with the person I love most, creating memories we’ll never forget. Nothing tops that.
And I noticed something interesting: when there’s no one around to impress - no neighbors, no colleagues, no family nearby - the materialistic desires just... disappear. Stop trying to keep up with the Joneses. You’ll be happier.
You've built a life that looks quite different from the traditional script many people follow. What's one assumption about success or adulthood that you've completely changed your mind about?
That a different kind of life was even possible for someone like me.
For 30 years, I genuinely didn’t think I could do anything other than work a steady job, take a couple of weeks off per year, and wait until retirement to finally enjoy life. That was the narrative I believed. Everyone around me lived that life. It was all I could see.
Now I’ve lived on four continents. I’ve been to more countries than I ever imagined. I work from home, I’m married with no children, and I’m genuinely happy. Little me never dreamed of any of this - not because I didn’t want it, but because I didn’t think it was an option for someone like me. I thought that kind of life was reserved for wealthy or special people.
I now know that’s a lie. Partly one cultivated by the systems we grow up in, it’s much easier for society to function when people stay on track. Our education systems aren’t designed to create thriving humans. They’re designed to create reliable, functioning citizens. I’m glad I woke up from that.
Entrepreneurship is often sold as a path to freedom, but it can easily create a different kind of pressure. How do you approach building a business that supports your life rather than consumes it?
Honestly? I’m still figuring it out.
The version of entrepreneurship that gets sold - easy freedom, passive income, happiness - is complete BS. It’s harder than most people can imagine. It’s stressful. It’s lonely. Yes, it can lead to freedom eventually, but the path there is not a fun ride.
Since I left my job in 2021, it’s been a mix of freelancing and building things. I don’t regret it. But I also won’t pretend it was the smart path to freedom. If I’m being honest, it probably would have been more sensible to negotiate remote work with my employer and travel with a secure salary. Close the laptop at 6 p.m. and actually be done for the day.
Instead, I’ve been constantly pulled between two things: building something sustainable, and actually enjoying the life I designed. I’m still pulled by that tension today. And my honest answer (which might surprise you) is that I’m not sure you can fully do both at the same time, at least not in the early stages.
I think building something real requires a period of being all-in. The balance comes later, once the systems are in place. I’ve been trying to build without being consumed... and the truth is I get by, but nothing has become truly sustainable yet. I’m still in that in-between phase, and I’m okay with admitting that.
A lot of ambitious people struggle with the tension between wanting more and appreciating what they already have. How do you navigate that balance?
I think ambition and gratitude can absolutely coexist. The key is asking yourself why.
Why do you want more? And to answer that truthfully, you need real self-awareness. Why do you want the bigger house, the better car, the more impressive title? If the honest answer is that it’s mostly about ego - about how you look to others - then it’s worth questioning.
I lived this. When we were in France, I was working at a startup I genuinely loved. But I was also grinding hard, chasing the next step, the next salary bump. Good for our future, I told myself. I’d leave home at 7 a.m. and get back at 7 p.m., Monday to Friday. By the time I was home, I had nothing left. Cook, eat, sleep, repeat.
I thought I was doing it for us.
Rosie told me years later, when we were traveling, that she would never want me to go back to that. She said she’d rather we make less money and actually have each other than make more and barely see one another. I thought I was building something for her. She didn’t want that thing.
That’s what I mean by intentionality. Understanding the real reasons behind what you’re chasing - and checking them against what the people you love actually need from you.
Looking back, what were some of the uncomfortable lessons that came with intentionally redesigning your life?
The biggest one: living my intentional life meant disappointing people I love.
My version of an intentional life - traveling, exploring, experimenting, living across the world - is not what my family imagined for me. They would much rather have me nearby, coming for Sunday lunch, there for birthdays and holidays. Instead, I live thousands of miles away and see them once a year. I had to become okay with that. I had to accept being, in a sense, selfish… choosing my own dreams over their expectations.
It’s not something I take lightly. As an only child, there’s a weight to that. My wife Rosie struggles with it more than I do: she has moments of guilt about not being more present, not giving her family the relationship they hoped for. It’s real, and it’s not something that ever fully goes away. It’s just part of the trade-off, and you have to decide, honestly, if you’re at peace with it.
If someone feels overwhelmed by the idea of making a major life change, what's a small step they can take to start moving toward a life that feels more like their own?
I’ll only share what actually worked for me.
In 2020, when I was questioning everything and terrified of making a move, I did Tim Ferriss’ fear-setting exercise from The 4-Hour Workweek. The steps are simple:
Define your fears clearly, instead of letting them loom in the background
Plan how you’d handle the worst-case scenarios (you’ll realize you have more control than you think)
Calculate the real cost of staying stuck, not just the risks of changing
Imagine what becomes possible if you actually go for it
That last part is what people skip. We obsess over the risks of changing while ignoring the cost of staying where we are. Doing this exercise made me see that the cost of NOT changing was higher than the cost of going after what I wanted.
I’ve created a free workbook to help people go through this process. No strings attached: jeremieandre.gumroad.com/l/fearsettingworkbook
Is there anything else you’d like to add?
Don’t get trapped by illusions.
The ones created by society, telling you there’s only one right way to live. The ones created by social media, where everyone else’s life looks perfect while yours doesn’t. Don’t compare your real life to someone else’s highlight reel.
Stop spending time, money, and energy trying to impress people you don’t genuinely care about.
Question your choices, past and present. Ask yourself why you are where you are. What led you there. Is it truly yours?
If you’re already living a life that feels true to you: keep going, no matter what it looks like to others. But if you wake up every day wishing things were different, please do something about it now. Don’t wait. We don’t know what life has in store for us. Health can change, time runs out. Stop pushing it to “later.”
“We have two lives, and the second begins when we realize we only have one.”
Want to hear more from Jeremie? You can find his work here on Substack.
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