🥲 Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Hi friends. We need to talk.

A lot has changed in my life over the past year, and you’ve seen little beyond the words I typed in this newsletter.

In November 2024, I was diagnosed with a fertility-related health condition that sent me down a rabbit hole of doctors, tests and grief. My last surviving grandparent died a few months later.

That May, I found out I was pregnant with twins. A dream that turned into a nightmare. Eight weeks into my pregnancy, I recorded The Compound and Friends live in Chicago. I was riding high – keeping this incredible secret about my two tiny babies from everyone while cooking on stage with my career idols/current colleagues.

Then, my pregnancy went south quickly. Right before I flew home, I took one look at a chicken Caesar salad then threw up in the airport bathroom. Over the following three months, I couldn’t keep much down besides protein shakes. And reader, you would not believe how hard it is to thrive on protein shakes. I spent most of the summer on my back, unable to do much more than sleep, puke, cry and write.

While there were brief respites, the nausea stuck around for most of my pregnancy. I was hospitalized twice in two months – once for heart issues, then for a kidney infection. After 30-odd weeks of physical hell, I gave birth to twins in January.

Seven months into parenthood, my physical recovery still feels like a full-time job. A few months ago, I was so overwhelmed that I struggled through a bout of postpartum depression. In fact, I wrote a longer and more colorful version of my birth announcement post then sent it to a friend, who told me to dial it down because my PPD was showing. Well…there was a good reason why.

My experience was absolutely soul-draining in ways I had never expected, and I am exhausted.

I’ve also come to an important conclusion about my career.

Contrary to what you see from my public persona, my job isn’t just pontificating about the Fed every day with my feet kicked up on my desk (although I’ll admit that life sounds lovely).

I’m leading a research strategy through a volatile time of policy shifts and economic changes. I’m teaching clients from all walks of life how markets and investing work in the bigger picture of their financial plan. I’m participating in discussions around portfolio strategy, including the process and rigor of monitoring and decision-making.

I’ve always been the communicator. The talking head. The minister without a portfolio, as Barry calls it.

I desperately want to be more than that.

The Wall Street you know is all about attention. Buy this, buy that. Feast your eyes on this wild stat that means absolutely nothing.

People who play the attention game live and die by the collective taste machine. One day, you’re praised for some 280-character proverb. The next, you’re burned at the stake for using the wrong word.

Step out of the game and everybody tosses you aside for the next dopamine hit piece of content. The algo washes you away. The TV producers forget you. You become too old, too stale, too slow. It’s a vicious existence.

I don’t want the algo to determine when my career is over, and I put a lot of weight on data integrity (which doesn’t always fit neatly into a social post or short video).

A few years ago, I made the conscious choice to focus on the bridge between market analysis and money management. Today, I’ve decided I want to strengthen that skillset even more.

So I’m making a few changes.

The biggest one: I’m leaving Ritholtz Wealth Management. 

Today is my last day. It’s been an amazing two years with my analysts and the best team I could’ve asked for. 

I learned a lot in my time at RWM. I’m so grateful for all of these experiences, and for the faith RWM management had in my vision of one message for all corners of a business.

Barry, Josh, Michael, Kris, Jay – I can’t thank you enough for taking a chance on me.

I’m also leaving the Compound.

This isn’t some salacious breakup. My time at the Compound was always a package deal with RWM.

I respect the hell out of the Compound, too. It’s no easy feat for a financial firm (ESPECIALLY an RIA) to just up and launch a media company. There’s a lot of planning and process involved, and the fact that the Compound has grown to 250K+ subscribers in a stale and uninspiring industry is a testament to how well the machine runs.

Rob, Graham, Duncan and the production team – y’all are simply the best.

Now, to the proverbial elephant in the room.

I’m taking this newsletter independent.

OptimistiCallie is here to stay.

I know, I know. Why snark on the attention game then keep playing?

I hope after two years of OptimistiCallie, you can see the value I place on transparency and honesty above clickbait. I want to keep telling the real story of markets in a down-to-earth way. Way too many people tell you to “stay invested” or “sell everything”. I believe it’s worth exploring the gray space in between.

Besides, I enjoy the creative outlet. Writing is the sticky tape ball bouncing through my brain that helps organize my chaotic thoughts.

So…I’m taking a few months off from RIA world (and I may be a little disconnected in the months ahead), but I plan to keep publishing.

Hopefully once a week, although what I’ve learned as a twin mom is that life loves to laugh in your face when you think you have a schedule down pat.

I’m also taking a fresh look at how OptimistiCallie is done, so you may notice some minor cosmetic changes here and there.

I’ll always be a writer, and I’ll always think Wall Street’s gatekeeping of research is absurd.

You can’t get rid of me.

Thanks for reading!

Callie

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