Hi, I’m Matthew Argyle—founder of Encore Retirement Planning, based in Salt Lake City. I’m a husband, a dad, and an enthusiastic host of international exchange students. Our home is often bustling and full of accents, laughter, and the occasional kitchen fire. It’s chaotic, but it’s real—and that’s the spirit I bring to my work: human, imperfect, sincere.
But this business wasn’t born from ambition. It was born from grief.
On May 12th, 2012, a warm spring Saturday, I was in my late twenties with a degree in economics, living in a downtown apartment, and feeling like the world was finally opening up. That afternoon, my mom called. Her voice shook. She said my grandparents were missing. They were in their early seventies. Their house was empty, but Grandma’s purse—something she never left behind—was still there.
Two days later, we got the call from the highway patrol. My grandparents had taken their lives together at a deserted rest stop in Utah’s west desert. No note. No explanation. Just silence.
At the same time, unbeknownst to me, my other grandparents—living hundreds of miles away in LaVerkin—had made a different but equally desperate decision. They moved into their garage. A dusty, cinder block space that smelled like gasoline and oil. They rented out their home to bring in an extra $1,000 a month—just enough to cover rising healthcare costs and groceries. That garage became their retirement plan.
Those moments hit me like a freight train.
They were my people. I loved them. And yet, even I hadn’t known how precarious things had become. No one wants to admit they’re struggling in their seventies. No one wants to be a burden. But the truth is, they felt out of options.
And that broke something open in me.
I couldn’t change what happened. But I could decide what came next. That was the catalyst. The day my view of money—and the role it plays in our lives—fundamentally shifted.
It’s easy to imagine retirement as a reward, a long-awaited rest. But that only happens when planning is thoughtful, realistic, and aligned with the truth of aging. Longevity brings not just opportunity but complexity. If you’re not careful, complexity becomes compromise. And compromise becomes quiet suffering.
That’s why I became a financial planner. To be the advocate my grandparents didn’t have.
But before Encore, I took a very different road.
Right out of college, I set my sights on managing a hedge fund. I was obsessed with the markets—stocks, futures, currencies. They were puzzles I couldn’t stop trying to solve. I scraped together funding, including my own savings and money from friends and family, and opened an office downtown—right next to Goldman Sachs. I was in my 20s and it felt like I’d made it.
For a while, it worked. We grew quickly, took bold positions, and made money. In a bull market, it’s easy to feel like a genius. When you’re leveraged, it’s even easier to feel like a god.
Then the music stopped.
The losses were fast and unforgiving. I’d misjudged the risks. The fund collapsed. I lost my own savings—and worse, the money people I cared about had trusted me with.
I didn’t declare bankruptcy. I didn’t disappear. I got a job, kept my expenses low, and slowly, methodically, I repaid every investor, every penny. Not because I had to—but because I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.
That season humbled me. It redefined success. I stopped chasing returns and started chasing understanding.
Over the next decade, I worked in tax and investment roles—at E*TRADE (now Morgan Stanley), DFPG Investments, and Diversify Advisory Group. I earned the Chartered Financial Analyst designation. Later, I became a Certified Financial Planner and IRS Enrolled Agent. But more importantly, I began to see the work differently.
It wasn’t about maximizing wealth anymore. It was about maximizing meaning.
I left the institutional investment world to work inside a tax practice, learning how financial decisions play out—not just on paper, but in the real lives of real people. When I was ready, I launched Encore Retirement Planning with a simple mission: to offer planning that’s less conflicted, less product-driven, and more rooted in what really matters.
I don’t run a flashy firm. There’s no Manhattan office or private equity backing. Just one person—and a deep commitment to helping you make decisions that align with your values, your vision, and your life.
I charge flat fees because it removes the noise. I don’t sell products. I don’t earn commissions. I just help you navigate the most complex financial chapter of your life—retirement—with clarity, coordination, and care.
This isn’t the story of someone who always made the right call. It’s the story of someone who learned—sometimes painfully—that wealth without wisdom doesn’t last. And that financial planning, done right, isn’t about winning. It’s about living well.
Encore is my way of giving that back.
But it’s more than just a career—it’s a philosophy. Many financial advisors want to help everyone, but they’re forced to chase volume to keep the lights on. That pressure leads to shortcuts, overselling, and a narrow view of who “deserves” quality advice.
I wanted something different.
By running a lean, intentional firm and taking on fewer clients, I’ve created the capacity to serve those who might otherwise be overlooked. Every year, I provide free or deeply discounted planning, education, and advice to individuals in less affluent or marginalized communities—people for whom finance isn’t just complex, but fragile.
When you work with Encore Retirement Planning, you’re not just investing in your own future. You’re casting a vote for the kind of financial industry we could have—one rooted in dignity, access, and decency.
That’s the world I’m working to build. One plan at a time.