Lesson 33: The Two Most Powerful Words
I am being asked by my course to share my financial story. This is primarily to get myself out from underneath any feelings of shame I may have related to it.
When I think this, my response is "I don't have any shame about my financial story. It's not perfect, but I'm on my way to financial health and I feel good." That's great. No really, that's great. And I would also like to explore my story as I haven't in many years.
Whenever I start to uncover how I feel about my finances, it gets related to food. Every time. I didn't know that until just a few sentences ago.
In my younger life, my parents had money. I don't know if I knew that then, but I know it now. There was a middle class, and they were firmly in it. They are also such earthen people, they are good at being good with finances. They use a credit card, but pay it off every month. They easily paid their monthly payments including mortgage, etc. They had few extravagances because they saved their money and used it for experiences like going on vacation in the summer and saving for retirement. I notice I'm vacillating between past and present. They are pretty much the same, but now they're doing these things with their social security checks instead of income. And instead of vacations, my stepdad buys vehicles; my mom buys high quality supplements and food for herself and pets.
Back to the past: I realize right now that what money felt like it brought to me in my youth was color. When I started making money, I could buy clothes and paints and books and food that weren't interesting for my parents to invest in. I always had what I needed, and frequently what I wanted, but always in a practical way. Or so it seems from this lens. My parents were not people who sought joy on a daily basis. They saved and waited for it. With one exception - going out to eat. This was the fun thing we all did together occasionally. I don't know how occasionally. It may have been once/week. Twice/week. Once/month. I just remember it feeling exceptional and enjoyable and exciting. And this is a strong relationship I made with myself and money when I started working. I could take myself and my friends out to eat. I could explore the world a little more, and feel a little (or many times a lot) fuller.
So, food and money. Then, when I was a young adult attempting to support myself, all of the money that didn't go to bills went to outings and drinking and food and this back-and-forth of wanting to buy practically and wanting to buy excitedly. Maybe that's still true. It doesn't feel so back-and-forth now. It feels more like I have enough to do both, but maybe that's been my question my whole life. What's the practical thing to do versus the most exciting thing. And then they both get skewed. The practical starts to feel boring and mundane, and the exciting thing is beyond what actually would feel right because it's a reaction to the practical.
Fuck.
Okay. I'm glad I ventured down this road. Where am I now? Where I am now, and where I have cycled through many times in my life, is I have used credit cards to increase my excitement level. Through several of those cycles, I racked up thousands of dollars in credit mostly by eating out and buying stuff at target. Blows my mind a bit.
This current cycle of credit card business has been spent on other types of excitement. Some of it was eating out, but mostly it was on experiences. And now I am paying them off. Successfully. That feels really good.
Am I feeling shame in any of this? I feel shame related to food. One of the times in my youth that I had gotten paid, I went out with a friend to Ruby Tuesday's. Usually I would get so much food out at a restaurant (when I could pay for it myself), because at home the food was "healthy" which meant everything was cooked with low fat and whole grains and margarine. It was the 80s-90s. We didn't know better. And, I had appetizer, meal and dessert at Ruby Tuesday. I was literally so full when we left I had to throw up in the bushes in order to walk afterward. I was not a bulimic person usually. And this wasn't about weight loss. But it was about filling myself to bursting.
This is a little rambling, and I accept that. I'm just finding it interesting that my whole life I've been searching for more beyond the mundane. Beyond what has to get done, which is how I was raised. I have never liked limitations, and they often send me in the other direction quite wildly.
I fell this in my diaphragm on the right side now. It felt like pressure and now it feels like freefalling.
When I think this, my response is "I don't have any shame about my financial story. It's not perfect, but I'm on my way to financial health and I feel good." That's great. No really, that's great. And I would also like to explore my story as I haven't in many years.
Whenever I start to uncover how I feel about my finances, it gets related to food. Every time. I didn't know that until just a few sentences ago.
In my younger life, my parents had money. I don't know if I knew that then, but I know it now. There was a middle class, and they were firmly in it. They are also such earthen people, they are good at being good with finances. They use a credit card, but pay it off every month. They easily paid their monthly payments including mortgage, etc. They had few extravagances because they saved their money and used it for experiences like going on vacation in the summer and saving for retirement. I notice I'm vacillating between past and present. They are pretty much the same, but now they're doing these things with their social security checks instead of income. And instead of vacations, my stepdad buys vehicles; my mom buys high quality supplements and food for herself and pets.
Back to the past: I realize right now that what money felt like it brought to me in my youth was color. When I started making money, I could buy clothes and paints and books and food that weren't interesting for my parents to invest in. I always had what I needed, and frequently what I wanted, but always in a practical way. Or so it seems from this lens. My parents were not people who sought joy on a daily basis. They saved and waited for it. With one exception - going out to eat. This was the fun thing we all did together occasionally. I don't know how occasionally. It may have been once/week. Twice/week. Once/month. I just remember it feeling exceptional and enjoyable and exciting. And this is a strong relationship I made with myself and money when I started working. I could take myself and my friends out to eat. I could explore the world a little more, and feel a little (or many times a lot) fuller.
So, food and money. Then, when I was a young adult attempting to support myself, all of the money that didn't go to bills went to outings and drinking and food and this back-and-forth of wanting to buy practically and wanting to buy excitedly. Maybe that's still true. It doesn't feel so back-and-forth now. It feels more like I have enough to do both, but maybe that's been my question my whole life. What's the practical thing to do versus the most exciting thing. And then they both get skewed. The practical starts to feel boring and mundane, and the exciting thing is beyond what actually would feel right because it's a reaction to the practical.
Fuck.
Okay. I'm glad I ventured down this road. Where am I now? Where I am now, and where I have cycled through many times in my life, is I have used credit cards to increase my excitement level. Through several of those cycles, I racked up thousands of dollars in credit mostly by eating out and buying stuff at target. Blows my mind a bit.
This current cycle of credit card business has been spent on other types of excitement. Some of it was eating out, but mostly it was on experiences. And now I am paying them off. Successfully. That feels really good.
Am I feeling shame in any of this? I feel shame related to food. One of the times in my youth that I had gotten paid, I went out with a friend to Ruby Tuesday's. Usually I would get so much food out at a restaurant (when I could pay for it myself), because at home the food was "healthy" which meant everything was cooked with low fat and whole grains and margarine. It was the 80s-90s. We didn't know better. And, I had appetizer, meal and dessert at Ruby Tuesday. I was literally so full when we left I had to throw up in the bushes in order to walk afterward. I was not a bulimic person usually. And this wasn't about weight loss. But it was about filling myself to bursting.
This is a little rambling, and I accept that. I'm just finding it interesting that my whole life I've been searching for more beyond the mundane. Beyond what has to get done, which is how I was raised. I have never liked limitations, and they often send me in the other direction quite wildly.
I fell this in my diaphragm on the right side now. It felt like pressure and now it feels like freefalling.
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