• I read that many children lack real-world independence despite having online freedom.
• I decided to give my 8-year-old more independence, which has boosted his confidence and happiness.
• I believe that encouraging independence in kids helps them develop responsibility and life skills.

"Mom, I have to go to the bathroom right now," my 8-year-old son frantically informed me from the backseat.

We were stuck in the middle of a crowded Starbucks drive-thru after school one day, and his 3-year-old brother was asleep in his car seat. So, desperately, I offered a solution: "Alright, you can go inside by yourself, and I'll meet you at the front patio."

His 6-year-old brother immediately volunteered to go with him — "I have to go, too!" — so I unlocked the door and watched them as they crossed in front of my car and disappeared around the corner to find the public restrooms. It was the first time I'd ever let them do something like that on their own, and I was surprised at how nervous it made me feel. Surely, our parents in the 90s let us run around playgrounds, libraries, and other places by ourselves, so why was I so worried about letting them do this simple thing? Because they could get hit by a car or kidnapped or make a nuisance, my anxious brain not-so-helpfully reminded me.

It turns out, I didn't need to worry at all. By the time I made it to the front of the store to pick them up, they were beaming with their accomplishment. It made me realize it was time to start creating small moments of independence for my eldest son (and his younger brothers when appropriate).

Parents are anxious, and it's hurting our kids

Social psychologist and author of " The Anxious Generation," Jonathan Haidt, conducted a study with the Harris Poll, alongside co-authors Lenore Skenazy and Zach Rausch, which surveyed more than 500 children ages 8 to 12 in the U.S. The results, published in The Atlantic, found that despite many children having access to online worlds like Roblox (about 75% regularly play the game), fewer than half of the 8- and 9-year-olds studied have ever gone down a grocery-store aisle by themselves.

Reading this stuck with me. At first, I thought I couldn't believe the metaphorical leash these kids are on. They're parents aren't letting them go even one aisle down? But then I realized that even though my kids are confident walking around stores, I usually don't let them out of my sight anywhere else.

"Without real-world freedom, children don't get the chance to develop competence, confidence, and the ability to solve everyday problems," the authors said about the survey results.

And without giving kids the skills to practice, it won't become natural. Haidt encourages parents to start giving kids more independence beginning at age 8, and I immediately decided to try it with my son.

I pushed myself to let him go further

We started this experiment at Target, where I typically didn't mind my kids looking at the video games or toys while I browsed the nearby book section.

This time, I wanted to take it one step further, so I asked my 8-year-old to go a few aisles down to grab a loaf of bread while I picked up some yogurt and cheese. He left and came back in less than a minute, proud of his find — and much happier having a task to focus on than just following me down each aisle, complaining of boredom. I loved it, and the trip didn't take nearly as long.

Another time, my 6-year-old needed to use the restroom, and his older brother offered to take him on his own — at the front of the store. After a few minutes, I got nervous with many thoughts running through my mind. What if they lost me because I wasn't on the same aisle as when they left? What if they couldn't find the bathroom and they were wandering around scared? Am I a terrible mother for letting them do this?

I ended up leaving mid-aisle to speedwalk to the restrooms, where I found them exactly where they said they would be, with one in the bathroom and the other patiently waiting on the bench outside the door. I felt something in my own brain click into place: my eldest son knows what to do, he is responsible enough to do it, and he loves that I trust him to go off on his own.

I just had to get over myself long enough to let him.

The look on his face is something I'll never forget

"So, what do I say, again?" my son asked. We had just pulled up outside our favorite pizza joint, and he was going inside to pick up our order.

"Say, 'I'm picking up an order for Sydni Ellis,'" I repeated. He jumped out of the van to grab our pizza, but first, he whispered his line a few times like an actor in a play (or like an anxious kid learning how to be brave). It was emotional watching him pace in front of the restaurant for a few seconds, building up the courage to go in and talk to an employee. I didn't intervene, and when he was ready, he went in by himself.

When he opened the van door with pizza in hand, he was beaming. His face was glowing with the brightest smile of happiness, accomplishment, and relief I had ever seen, and it was seared into my memory.

This is why independence is important. He did it. He built up confidence, tackled tasks he wouldn't have been responsible enough to do when he was younger, and felt like the smart, capable kid I know he is. By encouraging him to do things on his own, I'm helping set him up for the future and giving him a priceless feeling of autonomy.

• I'm trying to let my kid drive the college application process, while I help as little as possible.
• We only chat about college during scheduled times.
• They missed a scholarship deadline, but I'm trying to let go.

My fifth and final kid is a senior in high school, which means it's time for graduation, award nights, and most importantly, the college application process.

At a recent college night presentation, I met with a high school counselor. They gave all parents a startling message: You're not in the driver's seat during the application process. You're not even in the passenger seat. You're in the back seat.

I took the counselor's advice and decided to step back, letting my teen take the lead as they apply to colleges. At times, this has been tough, but I keep reminding myself that this is their journey.

I'm not telling my teen what schools to apply to

The post-secondary counselor talked with my child about their academic profile, major, and what they were looking for in a college. They discussed that even though my child has the background to get into highly selective (and very expensive) schools, they want to be a high school teacher, so it's not really necessary.

Talking about money with kids is never fun. College is the most fraught money conversation we've had with our kids.

It was helpful to have another trusted adult discuss my child's preferences with them and help them figure out what matters most when selecting schools. Thankfully, I didn't have to be the one who directed them away from prestigious schools.

I only stepped in to tell my kid how much I could afford on tuition.

I schedule times to focus on college applications together

Rather than continually nagging my kid about applications and to-do lists, I send out meeting invites to complete specific tasks, such as the FAFSA, campus visits, and scholarships.

During these scheduled times, we sit at the kitchen table while my kid does the work. I'm available if they need me to complete forms or determine a suitable time for a campus visit.

I then don't bring up college unless they do outside these scheduled times. This is hard. I'm curious to know what they're thinking and if everything is getting done. However, since we started scheduling times, my child is now proactively chatting instead of us having to ask.

My teen missed a deadline

The college application process teaches, sometimes the hard way, the importance of deadlines. Colleges have limits — a limited amount of scholarship money, a max on people admitted, a finite number of rooms in the best dorm — and waiting until or missing the deadline means you miss out.

My child lost out on presidential scholarships for one of their top schools because they were working to a deadline. The scholarship application process required a two-day in-person interview, and they discovered this the day before the application was due.

We couldn't make the in-person interview time, so they were unable to apply. It was frustrating, but, it was a lesson learned.

When this presidential scholarship mishap happened, I realized how I could be helpful. I created a spreadsheet to compare schools and provide a quick view of deadlines for applications and scholarships.

I'm not going into the Common App or looking over my kids' shoulders as they fill out applications. We review the spreadsheet during our college task meetings, and they get to work.

I then do my best not to look at it, ask them questions, or nag them the rest of the week.

I'm still celebrating the wins

I realized the best way I can stay involved is by celebrating my kids' wins.

I take pictures on tours, read the brochures, and check out the acceptance packet swag. It's an exciting time for both of us, and this helps me feel more involved.

Every scholarship, every acceptance, regardless of amount or whether they choose that school, is a win and a testament to all we've both done to get to that point.

• Valerie Health raised $30 million from Redpoint Ventures to automate healthcare front office tasks.
• The startup uses AI to automate referrals and scheduling for independent provider groups.
• We got an exclusive look at the 13-slide pitch deck Valerie Health used to raise its Series A.

When Valerie Health CEO Peter Shalek demos his product to clinicians, he has an unusual pitch: "This is a weird demo, because you'll never have to use this software."

Valerie Health, which Shalek cofounded alongside Uber Health founder Nitin Joshi, aims to fully automate time-consuming front-office tasks in healthcare, such as referrals and patient scheduling.

It's taking over those tasks for independent provider groups, a focus that's helping the startup rack up new revenue — and new venture funding.

Valerie Health just raised $30 million in Series A funding led by Redpoint Ventures, the company said Tuesday. The raise brings Valerie Health's total funding to $39 million since its 2024 founding.

Shalek said Valerie Health is already working with several of the nation's largest independent provider groups, in areas ranging from urology and podiatry to cardiology.

Across specialties, the front-office challenges for provider groups are often the same, Shalek said: juggling patient intakes and follow-ups against a backlog of referrals.

Those administrative burdens and related financial pressures can lead provider groups to be acquired by hospitals or consolidated by private equity firms. But those deals can mean higher costs for patients and lower satisfaction for the clinicians impacted. Shalek wants Valerie Health to help providers thrive independently.

"I think that there's an opportunity to make it so that independent practice is the easiest, the highest quality, the most profitable place to deliver care, which is really the core mission we have," he said.

Valerie Health takes over tasks for healthcare front offices with its own employees in the loop to review the software's autonomous actions.

Shalek said Valerie Health helps practices grow, too, by processing new and existing patients faster to increase the volume of patients coming in by 5% to 7% on average.

The startup has plenty of competition. More companies are setting out to automate administrative tasks for hospitals and healthcare practices, such as the Andreessen Horowitz-backed startup Tennr, which raised $101 million in Series C funding in June at a $605 million valuation to focus on automating patient referrals.

Shalek said Valerie Health is bringing in business through its singular focus on independent provider groups and its ability to automate tasks without healthcare practices lifting a finger.

"It takes a lot of work from our side, but it allows us to just solve these problems for our customers without saying, here's another piece of software for you to train your staff on. That's the last thing these practices want. They just want us to do the work," he said.

Valerie Health wants to move fast as the market fills. Shalek said the startup is focused on grabbing more customers next year while continuing to build front-office solutions, such as voice AI agents for patient follow-ups. Valerie Health started selling its tech earlier this year; its revenue tripled last quarter from the previous quarter alone, and given the customers already in its pipeline plus the demand it's seeing in the market, Shalek said he expects revenue to grow six to seven times next year.

The startup is also hiring across its teams, including engineering, product, and sales. Joshi also spent two years as an engineering manager at fintech startup Stripe, so Shalek said Valerie Health has been able to bring over talent from both Stripe and Uber as it expands.

Here's the pitch deck Valerie Health used to raise $30 million from Redpoint Ventures.

• I recently spent a little over a week in Tokyo and some of the surrounding Japanese cities.
• I adored my trip, but I wish I'd packed less so I had more space for purchases in my bag.
• My week in Japan could've been better if I'd gotten cash sooner and hadn't been quite so frugal.

This year, I finally fulfilled my dream of visiting Japan, spending a week in the country with two friends.

About a month before, I purchased a round-trip ticket from New York City to Tokyo for $1,000.

We chose to visit in early December — the month isn't as popular with tourists, and we hoped to catch the tail end of the area's peak fall foliage.

I loved my trip, as I got to explore much of the sprawling city, the area around Mount Fuji, and easily accessible cities such as Yokohama and Kamakura.

I was constantly impressed by the architecture, historic and religious sites, transportation, and food — and it was a plus that the exchange rate was heavily in our favor when we traveled.

However, I wish I had done six things differently during my trip — most of which involved money. (Yes, even economy reporters make money mistakes.)

I should've gotten cash at the airport.

My friends who had traveled to Japan before had warned me that many businesses in Tokyo only accept cash, so I had planned to visit an ATM at a convenience store after checking into my hotel.

However, I wasn't expecting to need cash before that.

My trip to the hotel required two transfers. At the airport, I bought a ticket on the Keikyu Airport Line train with my credit card.

However, when I needed to transfer to the line that took me to my hotel, I couldn't pay with my credit card, nor buy a rechargeable contactless card called a PASMO, because the station only accepted cash.

I also wasn't able to load a public transportation card on my Android phone, so I had to visit the help desk for assistance with charging a credit card. This worked once, but the next station's help desk wouldn't process credit cards.

Instead of taking an easy ride to my hotel, which would have cost about $5, I lugged my suitcase out of the station and went to an ATM.

At this point, though, my friend and I were so tired from the 14-hour flight that we took a $30 Uber to the hotel.

Looking back, I should've just converted my dollars to yen at the airport.

By trying to be frugal, I missed out on special local dishes and experiences.

I was pleasantly surprised when I realized that most of the food options near my hotel, located in a quieter neighborhood north of the Imperial Palace, offered many dishes that'd cost me under $10.

After conversions, I paid between $5 and $15 for most of my meals.

However, I became so accustomed to the low prices from the favorable exchange rate that I felt as though anything more expensive was either a scam or not worth it.

At various restaurants, I opted not to try the premium pork katsu, the expensive sushi cuts, or wagyu because I deemed them too expensive — even though they would've been the price of an average dinner back home in NYC.

By having a tight wallet, I missed out on tasting fresh local specialties I'd hoped to try for years. This also applied to experiences.

I really wanted to take the scenic, direct train route to the town of Fujikawaguchiko, one of the most popular destinations for viewing Mount Fuji. Instead, I booked a cheaper bus ride that had views of a few small towns.

I also missed out the Ghibli Museum and the Yayoi Kusama Museum. The entrance fees would've cost me less than $15, but I opted instead to walk around the city for free.

Though in the end, I felt good about saving the extra few dollars on things I didn't absolutely need, I felt like I was being overly cautious and, in some ways, blinded by the pursuit of affordability.

That same mindset — and my poor packing skills — also stopped me from buying as much as I wanted.

I made the rookie mistake of overpacking and not leaving enough room for clothes or other bigger souvenirs in my suitcase, as I only brought a backpack and a carry-on.

Since I had hardly any extra space, I prioritized purchasing gifts for loved ones and friends, which were mostly limited to postcards or small trinkets.

Though I bought two shirts and a few clothing items for Uniqlo (for much cheaper than what I'd have spent on them in the US), I wish I'd taken more advantage of shopping in Japan.

After all, the exchange rate was favorable, and some stores are tax-free. I'm still annoyed I didn't buy a special locally made shirt from Mount Fuji, which would've only cost $15.

I could barely zip my suitcase on the way home, and I had to rely on my friend to stuff some of my purchases in their bag.

Looking back, I wish I'd just packed half the number of clothes and done a load of laundry mid-trip. I would've had way more room in my suitcase for new purchases.

I wish I'd prioritized seeing more of Japan.

I chose to stay in Tokyo for the duration of the trip, as I felt it would have been overwhelming to spend two or three days in a handful of cities.

It would've been great to see Osaka or Kyoto, the two other cities my friends encouraged me to visit. However, I intend to return to Japan in the next few years, so I guess this is more of a note for later.

At the very least, I'm glad I made sure to visit the Tokyo suburbs and Mount Fuji, which satisfied my desire to leave the urban core.

My bigger regret was not diversifying where I stayed within Tokyo.

We stayed in a district of Chiyoda called Iidabashi, which is north of the Imperial Palace. We then switched to a hotel in Akasaka, further west.

It was great to get accustomed to one or two areas, but I would've loved to feel like a local by staying in a few sections of the city instead of just passing through them.

I knew Tokyo was large, but I wasn't expecting there to be so much to do in each area. For example, I would have liked to have stayed close to Shinjuku or the eastern side of the city.

I also wish I'd stayed in a wider variety of accommodations.

I spent the first seven nights at an apartment-style hotel, and the last night at a much nicer traditional hotel.

Looking back, it would've been nice to splurge on an even nicer hotel with more amenities, like a sauna or gym, or even rent a home outside the city for more diversity.

It also could've been a good experience to try a capsule hotel, a popular pod-style accommodation in Japan.

I should've prepared more for the cultural shift

I expected to experience cultural differences in Japan, but a few changes threw me off quite a bit. At times, I definitely failed to follow some politeness standards.

For example, in certain public spaces, such as trains, it's frowned upon to talk on the phone or to others. Throughout several rides on the trip, I started conversations with friends, then stopped myself.

I also learned the hard way that eating and drinking in public can be viewed as impolite. At one point, I received some hard stares for eating an ice cream on a subway platform.

Though I knew Tokyo's reputation for being an extremely clean city, I also wasn't expecting it to be quite so spotless.

I rarely saw trash cans on the streets, which meant I was often carrying wrappers or bottles for over an hour before I could toss them in a convenience store or back at my hotel. Next time, I'd bring a small bag for trash that I can stuff in my backpack.

It also surprised me how many restaurants I visited didn't have waiter service or even many opportunities for customers and staff to interact.

I often used screens or ticket machines to order food, and the only exchange I had with any worker was to say "thank you" or ask for more of something.

The degree of quiet was, in some ways, deafening. I wish I'd been more prepared for it — in part by knowing more essential Japanese phrases.

• This post originally appeared in the Business Insider Today newsletter.
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People are used to fighting for seats when commuting to work. It just usually doesn't continue at the office.

That's becoming the norm as companies realize their RTO mandates are bigger than their office spaces, writes BI's Emily Stewart.

From Instagram to AT&T to Amazon, companies have called workers back to the office only to find out they don't have enough desks for everyone.

The desk shortage could be due to a lack of foresight, a sneaky layoff technique, or something in between. But one thing is for sure: It's not a problem set to disappear anytime soon.

Even if companies do expand their footprint, it won't be so that workers can get their own slice of cubicle heaven. The most common ratio between desks and employees is 1-1.49, and most companies want even more workers for every seat they have.

Companies' RTO woes aren't an easy fix.

I understand executives' reluctance to snap up more office space. The post-pandemic scars from carrying expensive leases for desks that remained empty still run deep.

But hot desking doesn't feel like a silver bullet.

Sure, you can bet there will always be enough seats because some workers will be sick, on vacation, or taking meetings on a random day. And that'll likely pay off during certain parts of the year. (You'll have your pick of the litter at the office starting next week.)

But for other chunks of the year, it could become a constant game of musical chairs. And if bringing people back to the office is all about productivity, does it really make sense to have them spend their morning looking for a spot to set up their laptops?

A hybrid setup affords you more flexibility. But most people might gravitate toward coming into the office on the same day, which could create a similar desk availability issue. (Fridays aren't really a crowd favorite.)

You could mandate certain days for employees to spread things out, but that's likely to ruffle feathers. And isn't the whole point of coming into the office about everyone working together in person?

That raises a larger question about what a company's real RTO motive is. Because if it's about getting people back to the office to work together, giving them a desk to do it feels like it should be high on the to-do list.

• An estate plan should include financial, medical, and legal documents, according to estate planning attorney Kerri Koen.
• Be realistic about family dynamics, and don't forget your digital assets, she says.
• This article is part of "The Great Transfer," a series that highlights the mechanics of wealth transfer and the human priorities behind them.

If you've ever thought that you're too young or too broke to worry about estate planning, Kerri Koen would like you to think again.

"It's really important that we're all proactive and have these documents in place before we need them," says Koen, partner at Modern Legacy Law Group. "You're the only person who can make these decisions on your own behalf."

Although it may be unpleasant to think about death or incapacitation, doing so can help you make decisions that align with your values and help your loved ones avoid an arduous court process after your death, Koen says.

As an estate planning attorney, Koen helps clients — mostly in their 30s, 40s, and 50s — create estate plans to bring peace of mind and security after a tragedy. Here's how you can do the same.

Know that even simple estates aren't simple

Leaving your assets in a meaningful way isn't just for the rich. In fact, "I would argue it's actually more beneficial to those who aren't multimillionaires," Koen says.

She often sees people come in saying they just have a simple estate — a home, a retirement account, and some cash, for example.

"They're saying it's very simple, but the problem is that the laws that apply aren't always simple," she says. Proper planning can help you avoid costly court processes and minimize how your estate is taxed, she adds.

Recognize that an estate plan involves more than just a will

A will is the "driving document" of an estate plan, Koen says. This legal document, which can be five pages or 100, depending on the complexity, outlines how your assets will be divided in the event of your death. It also covers important legal decisions, like who should take custody of your kids or pets.

However, it's not the only important paperwork.

Your estate plan should also include a power of attorney (a legal document that designates who can make legal and financial decisions on your behalf if you're unable to) and advanced care directives to express your medical wishes.

These documents vary by state, and work together to address issues like who can access your medical records and whether you want to be kept on life support.

Consider a trust, even if you're not rich

A trust is a legal structure in which one person transfers assets to another person or entity, for the benefit of a third party. That sounds complicated, and it can be, but many people can benefit from a trust, even if they're not wealthy, Koen says.

"If we want to avoid probate processes, or protect assets from Medicaid and creditors, that's where we see trust planning come into place," she says.

Trusts can be particularly important if you have minor children, since they allow the people raising your children to access assets without owning them. That can help when life gets messy: say, your sister takes custody of your children upon your death, so you leave her all your assets. However, if she gets sued, any assets she owns — even if they were intended for your kids — can be taken.

Trusts avoid this by giving guardians "the access, without giving them the actual assets," Koen says.

Think about disability, not just death

Effective estate planning accounts for not just death, but disability as well, Koen says. Plan for not only what would happen if you become disabled (by appointing a power of attorney), but also for if an heir becomes disabled.

In that case, leaving them assets directly could compromise their access to government-funded services. Whereas setting up a trust can give them access to funds to supplement their care without disqualifying them from services like Medicaid, Koen says.

Be specific

Clients often say things like "I'd want my spouse to take care of my sister if I died." That's a nice sentiment, but it can mean different things to different people.

"Put a number to that," Koen says. Doing this can take some reflection, she adds. First, think about what "take care of" means to you; then, work with your attorney to reach a specific amount of funds you'd like allocated for the given purpose. Your attorney can also help you make sure you have the assets within your estate to support that gift or inheritance.

Another way to be specific: name backups for key roles, like your power of attorney or guardian of your children. That way if your first choice isn't able to step up, you still have someone you trust, Koen says.

Be realistic about family dynamics

Koen once worked with a family where the two adult children were named to administer a trust together. Come to find out, the siblings weren't speaking.

"We have this wishful thinking," that family feuds will resolve, Koen says, but that isn't always the case.

Instead of hoping for the unrealistic, create a plan that you're certain will work with current family dynamics and minimize conflict—like leaving separate gifts to siblings who have a tense relationship.

Don't forget your digital assets

Too often, digital assets fall through the cracks of estate planning, Koen says. This can include financial assets, like cryptocurrency, as well as personal legacies, including social media, digital photos, and even access to your phone.

While digital inheritance isn't well-regulated, there's been a lot of progress over the past five years, Koen says.

For example, Apple, Google, and Meta all allow users to appoint a legacy contact who can access your accounts if you die. There are also less formal decisions to consider, like whether to leave your social media active if you die or become disabled. This is especially important if you generate income from these accounts.

Get it done

It's tempting to put off making decisions about estate planning, but Koen says almost all her clients are happy once it's done.

Although you should review your estate plan every three to five years (and after major life events like a birth or divorce), there's relief in having a will and other important documents in place.

"The number one thing I hear is [that clients] thought this was going to be scary," Koen says, "but they're actually leaving the office with tremendous peace of mind."

• Michael Burry replayed his GameStop bet in a Substack post on Monday.
• The "Big Short" investor wrote that a "crappy business" became the "belle of the ball" in 2021.
• Burry sold before the meme-stock boom as he was "blinded" by the risks and had seen little payoff.

When it comes to regrets, Michael Burry has a few.

The investor of "The Big Short" fame, who bet on GameStop years before it became a meme, explained why he sold the stock before it skyrocketed in a Substack post on Monday night.

Burry got in early

Burry, who recently pivoted from hedge fund manager to online writer, first invested in GameStop in the summer of 2018. The video-game retailer's stock looked undervalued to him, and he saw an array of catalysts that could send it higher, he wrote.

They included a console refresh in 2020, the possibility of a buyout, the potential sale of the Spring Mobile business, and strong cash flows and a large cash pile offering scope for a "very big and consequential buyback," Burry wrote.

He exited the position in the second quarter of 2019 after the stock failed to budge. But he reinvested in July 2019, buying the stock "with both hands" and making it one of his larger holdings, in part because high short interest presented a fresh catalyst, he wrote.

"I visited a GameStop store to make sure I was not crazy," Burry wrote. "It did not work. Even the stuff that was not on sale looked like it should be on sale."

Burry wrote to GameStop's board to push for changes at the company. He shared that his public activism drew emails from Keith "Roaring Kitty" Gill, a retail investor who would become the face of the GameStop meme mania, and Chewy cofounder Ryan Cohen, who would go on to become GameStop's CEO.

Selling before the surge

Burry said he bought into GameStop the second time at a split-adjusted average price of 83 cents, or less than 1/26 of the current $22 stock price.

He purchased an almost 5% stake and held it for more than 16 months. "Most of that time, I lent my shares out at very good rates — high double digits — which was lucrative and a big part of the trade," he wrote.

Burry cashed out by the end of November 2020, selling his shares for an average of $3.38 each, or more than four times what he paid.

Weeks later, retail investors on forums such as r/WallStreetBets executed a historic squeeze on GameStop short sellers, sending the stock to an intraday high of over $120 on January 28, 2021.

"At the peak my yearslong investment might have turned $12 million into $1 billion, but that was never a possibility," Burry wrote, noting that he would have sold long before that point.

Burry — best known for predicting and profiting from the housing crash that preceded the 2008 financial crisis, a story told in the book and movie "The Big Short" — reflected on whether he should have played his hand differently.

"I could have analyzed that situation better," he said. "I knew GameStop inside and out, and I thought I understood the volume, short interest, and other dynamics. However, I was blinded by what I saw as execution risk."

He'd also lost faith in a huge stock rebound. "As well, I am human," he wrote, adding that large-scale buybacks, board changes, and the sale of Spring Mobile had been "home run/slam dunk activist successes with concrete results but zero impact on price or short interest."

Burry seized the chance to close out his bet after GameStop shares spiked following Cohen's disclosure of his stake.

"I had no idea what was coming," he wrote. "I had no idea that a Roaring Kitty existed."

"And I had no idea that a widely distributed gamma squeeze would thread the needle to become the one and only legal market corner," he added.

Around 50 days after he exited, that "ignominious crappy business" had become the "belle of the ball," Burry wrote. "The entire world could not take their eyes off her. And neither could I."

Looking back and ahead

Burry said he had mixed feelings about the meme-stock mania of early 2021: "It was spectacular. It was hilarious. It was tragic in turn."

But he decided it was "less fun" by the middle of 2021, when non-fungible tokens (NFTs) were soaring in value along with "watches, shoes, just about everything."

Burry said he feared retail investors would be "shredded on this meme thing," and warned them to watch out. He spoke out because "if there is one thing I wish I could have done, it was to have effectively warned or spoken about what was happening in 2005-2007," he wrote.

The deep-value investor, who moonlighted as an investment blogger in medical school, also teased an upcoming post that will be a "breakdown of GameStop as an investment today."

"As a melting ice cube and a capital structure with some optionality, GameStop is roughly as I approached it in 2018, except it is only 16% shorted, all the numbers are 10 times bigger and Ryan is running it, for better or worse," he wrote.

• My husband and I left New York and spent two years living in an RV, going from place to place.
• Eventually, our travels took us back to Texas — specifically, the island city of Galveston.
• The laid-back vibe was exactly what I needed, and now, it's our perfect home base.

In 2023, I lost my soul dog, Chubbs. He had been with me for 14 years through every apartment, every move, and even a cross-country relocation from Texas to New York.

When he passed, it felt like someone had pulled the anchor from my life. I didn't just lose my dog; I lost my sense of safety and the steady presence that had guided every chapter of my adult life. The grief felt overwhelming.

In the quiet that followed, my husband and I started asking hard questions about what "home" really meant. We'd both spent years chasing careers, paying rent in cities that never felt permanent.

So, we did something radical: We sold almost everything we owned, from our furniture to our books, and bought an RV.

We had no intention of settling down anywhere; life on the road was our near and distant future plan.

Being on the road had challenges, but we enjoyed living day to day

Those first months on the road were a crash course in patience and perspective.

Every day, we woke up to the hum of nature and winding highways. We worked remotely wherever we parked, building a life that could fit inside a 32-foot space.

We spent a few peaceful months in North Carolina, surrounded by trees and cool air, and almost stayed. In Pennsylvania and Kentucky, we discovered unexpected beauty in small towns and winding back roads.

Arizona and New Mexico, though, were a little tougher — we found them a bit too dry and stark, and longed for the ocean and more greenery. Each place taught us its own lesson about what felt like home and what didn't.

Life on the road wasn't always easy, but it gave me the quiet I needed to heal after losing Chubbs.

The more miles we drove, though, the clearer it became that I didn't just want to keep moving. I wanted to build a life that felt full again, something steady and rooted that my dog would have loved, too.

After two years, we wound up in Galveston

Eventually, the road led us to Galveston, a Texas Gulf Coast island that had always held a piece of my heart.

Growing up in Texas, my family had vacationed here often, and I was instantly hit with nostalgia and happy memories. I felt right at home with the salty air, laid-back island vibe, and Historic Strand District, a commercial area with many of Galveston's oldest buildings.

At first, it was just another stop; we thought we'd stay for a few weeks. However, we were wrong.

The island's mix of old-world charm and creative energy is unlike anywhere else in Texas. There's art on every corner, history in every building, and a deep sense of community that instantly made us feel like family.

After years of constant motion, we finally felt rooted.

In my new home, I found community and creativity again

Settling in Galveston reignited something I hadn't realized I had lost: creative connection.

I began writing again and eventually joined a local publication focused on the arts, where I help tell the stories of the island's artists, musicians, and makers.

Now, my work feels personal and purposeful, even though it looks less like the corporate life I led in the past.

I've met so many people who also came to Galveston after a big life change or loss, and found peace in the island's slower rhythm.

This city has a way of bringing people together, whether through a shared love of art, a late open-mic jam, or a quick chat over coffee at one of the local hot spots.

In my experience, the people in Galveston are warm and welcoming. Whenever I go to a grocery store or even for a walk on the Seawall, I find myself in conversation with a few BOIs (Born on the Island) or IBCs (Islander By Choice), all curious about my travels.

Galveston brought me a sense of peace

When Chubbs died, I lost my sense of home. For two years, every place we parked the RV felt temporary, a stopover rather than a destination.

I kept hoping that somewhere along the way, the road itself would heal me, but I learned that grief doesn't disappear when you keep moving. It follows you until you stop for long enough to face it.

Galveston was the first place that made me want to stay.

The rhythm of the waves reminded me of those quiet RV mornings when the world felt still, but here, there was something more: people, community, connection. The same serenity I'd found on the road existed here, just grounded by roots instead of wheels.

After years of living everywhere and nowhere, planting roots feels both strange and sacred. Some mornings I still expect to pack up and go, but then I'll catch the smell of salt in the air or head to my favorite coffee spot, and I remember why we stayed.

The island may not be where I thought I'd end up, but in Galveston, I found what I'd actually been chasing all along: a place that feels like home.

• Google's custom AI chip business is ramping up.
• Demand for its chips, known as TPUs, is growing. That poses a threat to Nvidia's dominance.
• Here's what TPUs are, what they can do, and how they fare against Nvidia's GPUs.

Google has been in the AI chip game for more than a decade. Now its custom hardware is moving markets.

Shares of Nvidia and other chipmakers tumbled last month following a report that Meta — one of Nvidia's largest customers — was exploring a deal to use Google's AI chips, known as Tensor Processing Units, or TPUs.

Google has primarily used its TPUs for internal use, but it also leases them to external customers through the cloud. Nvidia, meanwhile, has become the dominant provider of AI chips with its graphics processing units, or GPUs.

Google has a potential blockbuster business to unlock. In a research note sent December 2, Morgan Stanley projected that 5 million of Google's TPUs will be purchased in 2027 and about 7 million in 2028, significantly increasing its prior projections.

Here's a breakdown of everything you need to know about TPUs, what they're used for, and when they might become a more prominent threat to Nvidia's chip dominance.

What are TPUs?

Over a decade ago, Google needed more powerful and specialized compute power for the type of AI work it wanted to do. A team led by the now-CEO of Groq, Jonathan Ross, designed a new chip based on a specific type of integrated circuit for machine learning. The TPU was born.

Google has continued to improve and refine its TPUs over the years, making them more effective at both training models and inference, the process where a trained model answers a question or performs a task. As large language models have grown in size, Google has also increased the memory bandwidth of later TPUs to handle these bigger workloads.

Google says its latest "Ironwood" TPU, which the company is making widely available, is more than four times better than its predecessor for both training and inference.

How are TPUs different from Nvidia's GPUs?

Nvidia's GPU cards, which launched in 1999, were originally designed for gaming, not AI. When researchers later discovered that the chips were useful for tasks such as training neural networks, Nvidia doubled down on the AI market.

Google's TPUs, on the other hand, were designed for AI from the get-go. Being more specialized means they're more efficient than Nvidia's chips at some tasks, and faster for running select AI models. They have something called a systolic array, which lets a more constant stream of data pass through the chip, rather than having to keep fetching more from memory.

Where Google's TPUs have a big edge is in cost at scale. It's possible to have thousands of TPUs working in tandem in a single "pod." Because they are faster at some calculations than GPUs, running many TPUs at once can sometimes be more cost-efficient.

That may become more important as companies increase investments at the inference stage, which Google says its latest TPU is especially good at. That could save companies money.

What's stopping customers from swapping GPUs for TPUs?

One advantage that Nvidia has over Google is its CUDA software, which makes it possible for regular applications to use GPUs for general computing tasks — not just for graphics. CUDA also only works with Nvidia chips, one of the biggest points of friction stopping companies from switching to Google's chips.

Google is trying to change that. For example, there is a lot of industry demand to have TPUs better support Pytorch, a popular tool for building AI applications that was created inside Meta. Google is allocating more resources and attention to better supporting Pytorch, which data suggests is seeing much more demand than Google's own Tensorflow software, according to Google employees and industry experts.

Who uses TPUs?

When it comes to TPUs, Google remains its own biggest customer. It uses the chips across the company to power products like Search and Maps. Its latest Gemini 3 model was trained on TPUs.

While Google has prioritized its own needs, it has leased its TPUs to other customers. Apple used TPUs to train its in-house AI model, Business Insider previously reported. In October, Anthropic announced a blockbuster deal with Google that it says will see it using up to 1 million TPUs. Broadcom, which helps build the TPU chips for Google, revealed in its Q4 earnings call this week that it has received a total of $21 billion in orders from Anthropic for Google's Ironwood TPUs.

Meta is also in early testing of Google's TPUs, according to a person familiar with the matter, although it's not clear if it will result in a long-term deal.

What could this mean for Google — and Nvidia?

Google's TPU business could be poised to explode in the coming years. In a research note this month, Morgan Stanley wrote that every 500,000 TPU chips sold could potentially add around $13 billion in revenue to Google's balance sheet in 2027.

Having TPUs isn't just a potential revenue boost for Google. It also gets a feedback loop in using TPUs to run and train its AI models, learning from them, and changing how it develops its next chips to be better at the things Google needs.

Nvidia's GPU is still very much the chip du jour, but other tech giants are increasingly pouring resources into their own custom chips. Amazon just announced its new Trainium3 custom AI chip, which the company says can cut the cost of training and powering AI models in half compared with a GPU.

Many TPU buyers are also Nvidia customers, and some industry insiders told Business Insider that it's more likely that the rise of more specialized chips will see companies and labs diversify the chips they use, rather than going all in on one provider.

That could still hurt Nvidia, which could lose pricing power as a result of a more diverse market.

However, even if Google's TPU business finds more momentum, it doesn't mean Nvidia will suddenly crumble overnight. Jordan Nanos, member of technical staff of research firm SemiAnalysis, said his firm believes companies, including Nvidia, Google, and Amazon, will all "sell lots" of chips in the future.

"We don't see TPU as a significant threat to Nvidia's business, but it has been a real player in the market for many years," said Nanos. "It is possible that Google sells TPU servers externally in the future, to many more customers. Right now, they are very selective."

Have something to share? Contact this reporter via email at hlangley@businessinsider.com or Signal at hughlangley.01. Use a personal email address and a non-work device; here's our guide to sharing information securely.

• We upgraded to Delta One after realizing the premium seats weren't much wider than ones in economy.
• A nervous flyer, I was surprised how much I enjoyed the 10½-hour flight. I even fell asleep.
• All the perks before, during, and after the flight made the experience well worth the expense.

My husband and I are frequent travelers, but we still struggle to feel comfortable on long flights — I'm a nervous flyer, and my husband is tall.

So, when planning our first European adventure together last year, we decided to splurge on our 10½-hour flight from Los Angeles to London.

At first, we spent about $4,300 on two Delta Premium Select tickets. Then, my husband realized that the premium seats weren't much wider than those in economy — 18½ inches vs. 18 inches.

So, we upgraded to Delta One, the airline's international business class, paying about $7,000 total for our two round-trip flights.

Though we could've spent that extra money on meals or other experiences at our destination, our upgraded flight was worth every penny for the comfort it gave us during our journey.

Here are a few highlights of our transatlantic experience.

We felt the vacation vibes as soon as we arrived at the airport.

Our Delta One tickets got us access to the expansive Delta Sky Club at LAX.

Along with two large buffet areas and a bar, the space had many comfortable seating zones and private bathrooms with showers.

It was fun having so many complimentary food options — including vegan ones — but we tried not to overdo it as we had already pre-selected meals for our flight.

When it was time to board the plane, we walked over to our gate and were among the first passengers welcomed.

My seat felt like my own personal cocoon.

As we settled into our seats, the friendly flight attendants offered us drinks and snacks right away.

Since the plane had a staggered layout and my husband and I both wanted window seats, my "suite" was one row behind his.

That meant we couldn't hold hands, as we usually do, during takeoff. But rather than feeling nervous, I felt safely cocooned in my personal space.

The suite had a door to slide shut for privacy and side buttons for adjusting the seat's angle and lighting.

I also appreciated the amenity kit.

The blanket and pillow were cozy, and the travel kit had some useful amenities, like slippers, lip balm, hand cream, and an eye mask.

I was hoping for a pair of pajamas, but those weren't offered on our 8 p.m. flight.

The ability to fully recline was a game changer for my physical and mental comfort.

Once we leveled off, I was able to fully recline in the Delta One lie-flat seats. It was such a relief.

More than anything, the ability to lie down flat made the biggest difference in how much I enjoyed the long flight.

I was even able to fall asleep off and on — something I'm never able to do on a plane

The extra legroom made the long-haul flight more doable for my husband.

Unlike me, my husband doesn't mind flying — he just doesn't like the lack of space on most plane seats. At over 6 feet tall with a burly build and size-14 shoes, he's always hoping for more legroom.

Fortunately, the Delta One suite delivered with its roomy seat and foot cubby.

My husband was so comfortable that he didn't even bother taking off his shoes or fully reclining during the entire flight.

Our meals and snacks took things to new heights.

Our overnight flight included a three-course dinner and next-day breakfast, plus plenty of snacks and drinks.

We had ordered vegan options and were pleasantly surprised at how tasty the food was, from grain bowls to salads to plates with hummus and veggies.

The retractable table I ate on felt roomy and sturdy, and eating with real silverware, porcelain dishes, and cloth napkins elevated the experience.

The in-flight entertainment was an excellent distraction.

Watching TV on the nicely sized screen in front of me helped me forget I was in a flying metal tube thousands of feet above the ground.

Though Delta offered plenty of new movies and shows for me to stream, I ended up turning to old favorites like "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and listening to soothing music.

Meanwhile, my husband was rocking out to a famous Bruce Springsteen concert from 1979.

All the comfort and rest resulted in us feeling virtually no jet lag when we landed in the UK.

All in all, our pricey flight was so enjoyable that I almost wished it lasted longer.

When we landed at Heathrow Airport the following afternoon, we didn't even have jet lag. We just felt ready to take on the day.

Splurging isn't always possible, but we're keeping our options open for future flights. As they say, it's not about the destination, it's about the journey.