I became a millionaire at 37. I live modestly, but my wealth still makes it difficult to connect with friends.

• Sylvia Kang, 40, is a multimillionaire who lives in the Bay Area.
• Her business success and wealth have strained her relationships with her friends.
• She now focuses on people with shared hobbies, even if she can't share everything with them.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Sylvia King, founder and CEO of Mira. It has been edited for length and clarity.

I founded Mira, a women's hormonal health company, in 2018. The company really took off during COVID-19, and I became a millionaire about three years ago. Today I'm 40, and I'm a multimillionaire.

Despite that, I still live in a three-bedroom house in a middle-class neighborhood with my son and husband. I like to keep a low-profile life. I drive a Tesla Model 3, but that's more about convenience than luxury — self-driving makes my life easier.

Although I try to live modestly, my wealth and business success have had a big impact on my friendships. I used to have lots of close friends who I could talk to about anything. But these days, I don't have any one person who I can share all aspects of my life with.

Friends treat me more formally because of my success

As my wealth and business profile have grown, I've noticed that my friends perceive me differently. People seem to respect me more, which makes them act more formally. We no longer just get together on a whim or grab a bite to eat. Instead, friends feel they need to schedule things well or book a fancy restaurant. Something that should be casual and fun has become an event.

It's not all my friends' fault. It's also harder for me to relate to them because so much of my attention and mental energy is dedicated to my company. My friends and I used to talk about getting promotions, seeking a raise, or dealing with our husbands and kids. I can still vent about my husband and son, but my day-to-day running of a company is very different from my friends who work for someone else.

Some friends want me to be their mentor. That can make things feel one-sided. Other people are genuinely curious about my life. Even then, talking with them is hard because running a business is so complex. I tend to give them a brief update when they ask, then turn the conversation back to them.

I have friends in different areas of my life

I talked with my therapist about this loss of connection. She told me that no one will be able to fulfill all my needs. I won't have that one best friend who understands all facets of my life.

Instead, I have many friends and acquaintances with whom I can share hobbies. I have people I can go on hikes with, or discuss my meditation practice. When I want to talk business, I turn to mentors and acquaintances. Other young-ish entrepreneurs understand aspects of my life that people who haven't started a company wouldn't get.

I could retire, but my work gives me purpose

The more money I make, the less interested I am in spending. I used to be motivated by material things: I thought I had to have the right designer purse or fancy car to show my status. Part of that was because, as an Asian woman who immigrated to the US, I needed to look and act a certain way to attract investors to my business.

Now that I've launched a successful business, I've grown more confident. I know who I am, and I don't feel the need to prove myself to anyone.

So, instead of buying luxury items to show my wealth, I spend only on things that bring me spiritual joy. I love visiting historical sights in Greece and Italy and have a trip to Turkey planned this year. I've hiked in Patagonia and have an excursion to New Zealand coming up.

If I wanted to retire and never work again, I probably could. Yet my work — improving women's health — is what really gives me fulfillment. Once I realized that, reaching financial freedom became less appealing than I had imagined before.