Financial HumbleBraggers
Today, I did something for my financial health that didn’t involve topping up my CPF or buying an ETF.
I opened Telegram, navigated to the Million Dollar CPF Club chat group, hit the three little dots, and selected “Leave Group.”
Click.
The sense of relief was immediate—like finally taking off shoes that had been pinching for months. Or like a cat who’s been stuck in a carrier for the entire MRT journey from Pasir Ris to Jurong East finally being released.
For years, the Million Dollar CPF Club—and its associated community chat—was a staple of my financial diet. Like many Singaporeans, I was drawn to the original, powerful premise: that average salarymen could achieve a comfortable retirement through disciplined use of the CPF system. A blueprint for the rest of us. A democratization of retirement security.
My original intent was simple: join the group, ask about CPF shielding, and learn from others who were navigating the same system. And for a long time, that’s exactly what I got—99% of my time was spent reading how others in the chat group managed their CPF, understanding their strategies, picking up tips on timing my transfers.
But recently, that original intent seems to have been lost in a sea of noise, chest-thumping, and exhausting “humblebrags.” What started as a classroom has morphed into a locker room, and frankly, I was tired of constantly seeing the measuring contest.
Here’s how a vital educational community deviated from its mission—and why this cat had to walk away.
The Golden Era: Strategy Over Status
When I first joined the community, the signal-to-noise ratio was incredibly high.
The discussions were tactical and educational. We dissected the mechanics of OA-to-SA shielding like surgeons studying anatomy. We debated the pros and cons of maxing out the Retirement Sum Topping-Up (RSTU) scheme early versus late, complete with Excel spreadsheets and compound interest projections that would make an actuary weep with joy. We shared news articles about policy tweaks and analyzed how they affected our retirement timelines.
It felt communal. We were all different Singaporeans—teachers, engineers, hawkers, civil servants—trying to navigate the same labyrinthine system. The goal wasn’t to be the richest person in the chat; the goal was to ensure none of us ended up poor in old age.
It was about the process, not the podium. We were all cats patiently waiting for our BTO to TOP, purring contentedly about our 4% CPF returns, happy just knowing we’d have a warm spot and some kibble for our golden years. We were planning for our own Pine Ville @ AMK—a comfortable SERS upgrade to our retirement, scheduled to complete right on time in 2027 (or whenever CPF Life kicks in for us).
The Evolution into “The Flex”
Over time, as the group ballooned to tens of thousands of members, the culture shifted. Subtly at first, then overtly.
The actionable strategies began to get drowned out by validation-seeking behavior. You know the type—what I call the “Financial Humblebrag.”
Slowly, people started doing humblebrags about their $6M net worth and whatnot. It’s the recurring updates from members who treat the chat less like a discussion forum and more like a scoreboard. Instead of asking questions or sharing news, messages often revolve around unsolicited net worth updates or screenshots of massive portfolio jumps—without any context on how they got there.
“Just hit $2.5M today at 38! 🚀”
“Portfolio up 40% this quarter, feeling blessed 🙏”
“Finally crossed the 8-figure mark, thanks for the journey guys!”
“My net worth just hit $6M, still learning from you all 🙏”
And here’s the best part—whenever someone (politely) points out that these updates don’t really help anyone, the response is always the same:
“Guys, relax! This is not about wealth comparison or investment advice! Just sharing my journey! 😊”
Right. Because posting your $6M net worth in a chat group full of people trying to figure out basic CPF mechanics is totally not a comparison. It’s like walking into a support group for people trying to lose weight and announcing, “Hey guys, not bragging or anything, but I just want to share that I lost 50kg in 3 months! Not comparing though! Just my journey! You can do it too!”
Cool. But… what am I supposed to do with that information? Frame it? Put it on my vision board? Cry into my kopi-O?
It’s like waiting patiently for your Pine Ville @ AMK keys in 2027, only to have someone burst into the queue screaming, “I BOUGHT A GOOD CLASS BUNGALOW IN CASH! LAST WEEK! AT 25 YEARS OLD! WITH MONEY I MADE FROM SELLING PICTURES OF MY FEET! But guys, seriously, this isn’t a comparison! Just sharing!”
Good for you, mate. The rest of us are just trying to figure out if we should go for the 3-room or 4-room and whether we can afford the vinyl flooring upgrade.
I came here to ask about CPF shielding mechanics. I stayed to learn from others managing their CPF accounts. I did not sign up for a daily parade of net worth screenshots accompanied by the world’s most transparent disclaimer: “Not investment advice! Not comparing! Just my personal journey!”
Sure, Jan. And I’m just a cat who accidentally knocked your vase off the table. Totally didn’t mean to.
Suddenly, the group wasn’t about the mechanics of executing a strategy; it became a stage for extreme outliers to broadcast their highlight reels while the rest of us peasants tried to remember the CPF contribution rates.
Like a cat who just wanted a quiet spot to nap, I found myself in a room full of peacocks—all claiming they weren’t showing off their feathers, just “sharing their molting journey.”
Comparison Fatigue and the Highlight Reel
This constant barrage of extraordinary wealth creates a very real psychological phenomenon: Comparison Fatigue.
When you’re scrolling through your phone on an average Tuesday, trying to stay disciplined with your monthly DCA into STI ETF (all $500 of it, thank you very much), seeing someone casually flex a seven-figure windfall isn’t motivating. It’s demoralizing. It makes sensible, steady progress—the kind the Million Dollar CPF Club philosophy was built on—feel painfully inadequate.
And the kicker? The mandatory disclaimer at the end: “Not comparing guys! Everyone’s journey is different! 💪”
If everyone’s journey is different, why are you posting yours in a public chat with thousands of people? Are you a financial influencer now? Did someone ask for your net worth update? No?
Then maybe—just maybe—it is about comparison. Or validation. Or both.
It’s the financial equivalent of being perfectly content with your upcoming Pine Ville @ AMK 4-room flat—good location, reasonable price, perfect for retirement—and then watching someone on Instagram unbox the keys to their penthouse at Marina Bay with a private yacht berth, helicopter pad, and what appears to be a pet tiger.
And they’re 32.
And they’re “just blessed.”
And they “definitely didn’t come here to compare.” They just wanted to “inspire” you.
Thanks, I’m super inspired. Inspired to close the app and question all my life choices.
And here’s the kicker: these groups become textbook victims of Survivorship Bias. We only see the highlight reels. The people who leveraged heavily and got wiped out in the last market correction? They’re not posting screenshots. They’ve quietly left the chat, probably to join a support group called “I YOLOed My CPF Into Crypto and All I Got Was This Lousy Debt.”
The people quietly trudging along their CPF maximization path, hitting their milestones at 55 or 60 as originally intended? They don’t feel the need to broadcast it daily because they’re busy living their actual lives, not performing their financial status for an audience.
We’re fed a distorted reality where becoming a multi-millionaire in record time feels like the norm, rather than the statistical exception it actually is.
(You know what else looks like the norm on the internet? Cats that actually enjoy wearing costumes. They don’t. Trust me. The only thing a cat enjoys less than wearing a costume is watching you try to put it on them while someone else’s cat—wearing a full tuxedo—gets a million likes on TikTok. “Not comparing guys! Just sharing my cat’s fashion journey!”)
The Great Deviation
The ultimate tragedy? This noise actively sabotages the group’s original intent.
A newcomer joining today—someone genuinely terrified about inflation, confused about CPF mechanics, looking for basic advice on whether to top up their SA—has to wade through hundreds of messages about crypto punts, property flips, $6M portfolio updates, and eight-figure net worths (all carefully tagged with “not comparing! not financial advice!”) just to find out the current T-Bill cut-off yield.
It’s like trying to get basic information about the Pine Ville @ AMK floor plan, but instead of helpful specs, you’re bombarded with people posting photos of their Sentosa Cove mansions, complete with unsolicited advice about why you should really be considering a $15 million landed property instead of “settling” for a SERS flat.
“But guys, I’m not comparing! Just sharing my property journey! You do you! 🙏”
Bro, I just want to know if the kitchen has space for a rice cooker and whether the bomb shelter can fit a queen-sized bed. I’m not trying to compete with Tony Stark.
The environment has shifted from education to ego. From “How do we all get there?” to “Look how fast I got there—and by the way, I also have abs and my cat has 50K Instagram followers. Not comparing though!”
Instead of leveling the playing field, the group now often serves to remind the average Singaporean how far behind they supposedly are.
That’s not empowerment. That’s just… exhausting. And slightly depressing. Like watching property price updates while eating instant noodles for the third time this week.
Why This Cat Finally Walked Away
I’ve realized something fundamental: my journey to financial independence is a single-player game.
I don’t need to know a stranger’s net worth to manage my own Retirement Account. Knowing that someone else has reached their target years ahead of schedule adds exactly zero dollars to my bank account—but it does subtract a significant amount from my mental peace.
I came to learn about CPF shielding. I stayed to understand how others managed their accounts. I got years of solid education from that 99% of helpful content. But that final 1%—the humble brags, the $6M updates, the flexing (all carefully wrapped in “not comparing!” disclaimers)—started growing louder and louder until it drowned out everything else.
By leaving the group, I haven’t given up on the financial goal. I’ve just cut out the middleman. I’ve switched to one-way broadcast channels—the official CPF Board Telegram, data-driven news feeds, a handful of blogs I trust—where I get the facts without the flexing or the fake humility.
Think of it this way: I’m still planning for my Pine Ville @ AMK. I’m still waiting for Q3 2027. I’m still excited about having a comfortable retirement space that’s mine. I don’t need to know that someone else bought a penthouse in Orchard two decades earlier using money they made from flipping NFTs of cartoon apes.
My Pine Ville @ AMK will TOP when it TOPs. My CPF will compound when it compounds. And I’ll get there at my own pace, without the daily reminder that someone else apparently got there faster, younger, and with better hair.
Cats don’t compare themselves to other cats. A cat waiting for its new home doesn’t spend its days obsessing over whether another cat got a bigger scratching post or a fancier litter box. It just waits patiently, takes lots of naps, and trusts that when moving day comes, there will be sunny spots to claim and cardboard boxes to explore.
And when the room gets too loud, too chaotic, too full of peacocks showing off their feathers while insisting they’re “not comparing, just sharing their feather growth journey”?
The smart cat simply walks away.
That’s the energy I’m channeling now.
Because here’s the thing: financial freedom isn’t just about having enough money so you don’t have to worry.
It’s also about having enough peace of mind that you don’t feel the need to compare.
Or pretend you’re not comparing.
Disclaimer: Sometimes the smartest financial move isn’t about what you add to your portfolio—it’s about what you subtract from your feed.
And sometimes, the wisest thing you can do—like a cat waiting for its Pine Ville @ AMK keys—is ignore the noise, trust the process, and take a well-deserved nap in whatever sunbeam is available right now.
Your BTO will TOP when it TOPs. Your retirement will come when it comes. And that’s perfectly fine.
This cat has left the building. And honestly? The silence is golden.
P.S. This blog post is not financial advice. Or life advice. Or cat advice. It’s just one cat’s journey. Your mileage may vary. Side effects may include laughter and the sudden urge to leave group chats. Consult your own judgment before making any decisions. I am not a financial advisor. Or a cat whisperer. Or particularly wise. Just tired of the noise.
P.P.S. And yes, I’m aware of what SM Lee said about not flaunting wealth in public. Unlike some people, I actually understood the assignment. Which is why I’m not posting screenshots of my net worth. I’m just posting screenshots of my frustration. Completely different. Trust me.
Okay, I’ll stop now. You get the idea.