Show me the $$$: Jamie's Story

My Money Story.

I would love to tell you a fairy tale. I grew up in the projects. I was teased because I was one of the only children from northern European descent. But no one dared touch me. You see, my father could repair anything and families called him whenever something broke and they could not afford to repair it. So, in order to repay my father, people cooked us food and made sure his children were safe. Aside from some harmless teasing, no one dared touch a hair on my head. I grew up and worked hard to put myself through college and a master's program. I went from barely surviving to a nice upper middle class lifestyle complete with horses and a good job.

There is a small problem with the story above. It is a good story, and it is a true story, but it is not MY story. It belongs to a wonderful woman I worked with many years ago. 

My story is a little less, well, eventful.

My parents, however, did go from rags to riches. My father enlisted in the navy in World War II and went to college on the GI bill after the war. My parents married, living in a small apartment with 3 young children, and they worked hard to make ends meet. They soon left Massachusetts for the sunny skies of California where they thrived thanks to frugality and hard work. Just when their 3 children were grown. I decided to show up. (I always did like to make an entrance.)

You see:

• My father had a finance degree who rose through the ranks in the 1950s and 1960s to become a controller (similar to a chief financial officer). 
• My mother was a bookkeeper for a real estate firm. 
• My parents kept to a very tight budget. 
• My mom wore the same sweater for 15 years.
• We didn't buy a new car until our old one died or broke down one too many times. 
• Our house could have done with some new carpet.

Yet they would spend money on items they felt were important such as education and healthy food. In addition, my parents were always generous on holidays and birthdays. Pretty idyllic, right? 

So, what went wrong? Well, nothing at first.

I was a good kid. I didn't smoke, do drugs, drink alcohol, and I was a straight A student. My parents, wonderful as they were, had lots of rules. As a result, I had very few friends and rarely dated. Since I often wasn't allowed to go places they went to, people stopped inviting me. I didn't love the rules and I missed having friends but I figured that when I got older, I would be able to travel,  explore, and enjoy activities that I could not do currently. Besides, I loved my parents and I was grateful for their sacrifice and hard work. They were amazing people. And, if remaining close to my family meant giving up friendships and relationships, it was worth it. 

At age 15, I started suffering from depression. But my focus on school and involvement in sports kept me stable. I also spent a lot of time with my sister and my niece, which helped. At age 17, I met my future husband. A guy who was also raised in a frugal family with lots of rule, so it didn't scare him off. He was an saver and had a stock portfolio; very unusual for a 17 year old boy. But he also knew how to enjoy himself. He knew where the dollar movie theatre was and had coupons for some fun cafes and even Sea World. We had fun but on a budget. 

I initially was a saver. From my first job at 18 until age 24, I saved most of what I made. Then, I got married. It was a difficult time in my life. My dad was ill. My parents sold the house and moved into a retirement community. My sister became my dad's full-time caregiver. My niece was going through a rough time herself. My brother-in-law was working long hours. I offered to help care for my dad, but I was only 24 and my family wanted me to start my life. I had recently graduated with my bachelor's of science in nursing and had passed the nursing boards. I was officially a registered nurse. My boyfriend and I were getting married. 

But I could not have been more miserable. I felt alone. My family did not have time for me and my husband had changed. He lost his sense of humor and became very pessimistic. He graduated with a very difficult degree and could not find a job. We were in a recession. He was not fun to be around. I was not ready to get married but my parents were selling the house and I needed to leave. They didn't want me on my own. Being naïve, and not experienced with the world, I did not see an option. I had been "cared for" my whole life. In addition, my health issues worsened. I could work, but not every day. How was I supposed to keep a full-time job? My husband was not ready to get married either. I always say I married the right person, just at the wrong time. 

Once we got married, the rules changed. No longer were we allowed to go to the dollar movie place or out to dinner. We were to work and save. We needed to buy a house, invest in some property. The option of my not working, or only working part-time due to health issues, was not an option. And, to be honest, while I knew I had Hashimoto's Disease, I did not realize how debilitating this condition could be. I just figured medication would take of it. I was extremely depressed and did not understand what was happening to me. So, I rebelled. I was tired of more rules, of living under someone's thumb. I did not have affairs, drink, or do drugs. I, instead, went shopping. I went out and bought hundreds of dollars of clothes. Thus started my history with spending. 

Thriving not Just Surviving is a personal blog, written and edited by yours truly, and features guest writers and my personal life stories. I am NOT a financial professional... I am not a CPA, nor do I hold any financial certifications. Please seek a professional for any “real” advice when it comes to your own finances and money. The views and opinions expressed on this blog are purely the blog owners and are meant for entertainment purposes.