The Day the Promise and the Payment Did Not Match

My house flooded in Hurricane Helene and was damaged again in Milton. For months afterward I was hopping from hotel to hotel with my dog, my car, and a bag of dog food, waiting for my walls to go back up.

Here is the part I want to talk about. For years I paid for flood insurance every month. I chose that expensive coverage because I wanted an insurer to take on the covered financial risks when the time came. When I recorded the video behind this post, I was still waiting for the flood-insurance payment. That describes the situation at the time of the recording, not an updated claim status.

The delay made me reconsider both the cash I needed for recovery and the commitments consuming my time and money. This is a reflection on those choices, not a conclusion that everyone should give up insurance.

Meanwhile, the work could not wait. Drywall had to be purchased. Workers had to be paid. That meant pressure to take out loans at high interest rates—not just the repair bills, but the prospect of borrowing costs on top of them.

Then there were a million random costs to keep living this way. I had a temporary mini fridge, a temporary this, and a temporary that. I even paid a plumber to install a temporary sink. My personal costs were climbing into tens and tens and tens of thousands of dollars.

FEMA, Contents Coverage, and the "Up To" Problem

An “up to” amount for FEMA assistance is a ceiling, not a guaranteed award. Assistance is separate from insurance proceeds, but not unrestricted extra compensation: FEMA explains that it cannot duplicate insurance benefits for the same expense. It may help with eligible costs insurance does not cover. A maximum alone did not establish what I would receive. I still faced costs I might have to absorb myself.

Contents coverage brings another burden: documenting damaged belongings, gathering purchase records, and estimating ages and replacement costs. That can be a substantial job during an already exhausting recovery. FloodSmart’s belongings inventory guidance explains the value of photos, videos, and item records.

I have also heard from people who received less than they expected. Those are anecdotal accounts, not evidence of a typical payout. I do not know which payments were initial rather than final, or whether every submitted loss was covered under those policies.

When you are sold coverage, the pitch is peace of mind. I pictured everything in my garage, my tool area, my woodworking area, my whole life replaced and renewed in a snap. I used to have faith in that picture. When the payment does not match that expectation, after all the payments you made in the past, it lands like a slap in the face.

If an insurance payment is delayed

• Request a written claim status and valuation explanation.
• Keep a dated communication log.
• Review your policy’s coverage, exclusions, and deductibles.
• Ask the insurer which claim-review options apply and whether the relevant insurance regulator or consumer-assistance office can help. Available routes depend on the policy and the dispute.

For a National Flood Insurance Program (NFIP) policy, FloodSmart’s claims checklist offers documentation guidance; a private policy may have different requirements.

Why This Felt So Familiar: Every Payment Is a Hook

Recurring commitments ask for more than money. They also take time and attention—something I have learned by building the KindEdge process and running it on myself.

KindEdge is the process I use to turn a desired change into practical homework. Put the future you want on paper. List what belongs in it, then compare that with your time, budget, relationships, and existing commitments. Identify what needs to change to make room. I call deliberately discontinuing commitments that conflict with those priorities “unchoosing.”

That unchoosing is conscious curation of the relationships, environments, and objects in your life. The objects you have to pick up and maintain. The boat you take care of. The things in your house you have to move around. The people you are committed to. The environments that either fill you up or bring you down. Each asks something of you, and each deserves a place in the review.

I had already done this work. I had already changed my risk tolerance because I wanted to live differently. But flood insurance, and other types of insurance, were still sitting in my assumptions. Every day with KindEdge I pull these hidden, invisible assumptions out of my head and ask: is this actually part of the bucket I want in my life?

I call these ongoing demands hooks and strings. The point is to identify where we have choices, not to blame ourselves for being constrained. Caregiving, contracts, and financial circumstances can limit what we can change right now.

When Keeping Up With the Joneses Competes With Your Dream

Say the hidden thing in the back of your head is that you want to keep up with the Joneses. A high-end car payment might serve that expectation while competing with something you want more. Or a larger SUV might meet a real need to drive other people’s kids to soccer. The homework is to put both the benefit and the ongoing cost in front of you, rather than assume the commitment has to stay.

Here is what that review looked like for my car decision:

• Desired future: More time for KindEdge and less worry about payments.
• Option considered: A car with a loan versus a car without one.
• Benefit: Choosing a car without a loan meant no recurring loan payment to worry about.
• Recurring demand: A loan would bring a financial obligation and another payment to keep track of.
• Constraints: A car still has purchase and running costs. Avoiding a loan does not make it cost-free or make every car affordable.
• Decision: I chose a car without a loan because that fit the future I wanted. That is my trade-off, not a rule about what anyone else should drive.

When the life you want and the demands of a commitment are side by side, you can make a clearer choice. The result might be keeping the commitment because it serves you, changing it, or planning a gradual transition when an immediate change is not practical.

The Hidden Cost of Fighting for Money You Already Paid For

Insurance transfers specified covered risks; it does not eliminate every financial risk or guarantee that money arrives when repairs need to happen. In my recovery, claim processing and payment timing depended on other people, while the bills kept coming. I worried I might have to hire an attorney, adding another recovery cost.

That possibility eats me up, because I am giving away my life's minutes. All I want is to wake up and do more of the support work I do in KindEdge, helping other people turn the changes they imagine into something concrete.

What If I Paid Those Premiums to Myself?

Retaining risk means paying losses myself. A major loss—or repeated losses—could exceed whatever I had saved in premiums, especially before those savings had time to build. Saved premiums are not proof that I could afford to replace insurance. And a mortgage lender may require flood insurance, depending on your property’s flood zone and loan requirements; check with your lender before changing coverage.

With those limits in mind, here is the question I landed on: if insurance payments arrive late while other costs keep climbing, what if I paid those premiums to myself?

I have not canceled coverage or funded a self-insurance plan. Could a simpler life make some risks more affordable for me to retain? Instead of maintaining a house so costly that rebuilding it is unimaginable, what if I lived in a smaller space—a studio, a productivity space, a creativity space, a meeting space?

Every time I drive by a big red barn I think, all I want is a barn. No walls, maybe a little coverage for the toilet, just an open barn where I can do anything in any space on any day. A couch. A sleepover on the floor. A creativity space. A YouTube video. A studio life.

That is an imagined future, not a tested financial plan. But it gives me something concrete to examine: what would that life cost to maintain and replace, what risks would remain, and what protection would I still need? The picture helps me question my commitments; it does not answer those financial questions for me.

And that is fine if a big house or a high-end car is something you truly value. But if maintaining it crowds out the work or experiences you care about most, it is worth reviewing the deal.

This Is My Story, Not Financial Advice

Please hear me clearly. These are my own choices about my own risk. Some people are required to carry coverage, for example by a mortgage lender, and some risks are very hard to absorb on your own. Talk with a licensed insurance professional, a financial advisor, and an attorney about your own situation before you change anything.

I Can Own My Risk, and I Can Own My Life

What I am really pointing at is the assumptions. We give our time, energy, and money to clubs, organizations, guilt, family, and our own self-image expectations. We assume we have to keep giving, and we put the dream in the back of our heads for another day because we are too busy handling those problems.

I know what it looks like to choose differently. I went through a divorce that carried on longer than it should have. Three and a half years in, with appeals on the table and the rest of my kids' high school years looking like madness, I said no. Take part of my savings. I need my life to go forward. I told the judge and the other attorney exactly that. People say that does not sound fair. I say I won, because every minute since then has been wide open.

It is all the people, the assumptions, and the relationships. I got rid of the bad relationships and reinvited the good, golden people. The places I go are full of idea people, interesting people, and supportive people. Those choices, like my car decision, show my trade-offs. What insurance risk I can afford to carry still needs its own review.

So here is where I land. If I own my stuff, meaning I own my life, then let me make those choices consciously. I do not want to spend my days chasing money instead of doing the work I care about. Owning my risk means understanding what I can carry, what I need help protecting, and what I am committing my minutes to. I wish that clarity for you too.

Five Questions to Ask About Any Commitment in Your Life

Choose one payment, membership, or expectation that has been quietly running your days. Before changing it, review your obligations, replacement costs, and the risks you would need to carry. Then ask:

• What is this, and is it actually part of the bucket I want in my life?
• Is it keeping me indebted, in money, in interest, or in time?
• Does it give me real control over how I handle risk, or only the feeling of control?
• Is it in conflict with my dream?
• If it disappeared tomorrow, what would I do with the minutes it frees up?

Start with a review, not a cancellation. One commitment, looked at honestly, is enough for a first step.

I would love to hear what that review brings up for you. Share your perspective in the comments, and connect with a community of people asking these questions too.

After your review, visit kindedge.com to explore the KindEdge process