Growing up, the holiday season in my household was nothing short of enchanting. My mother went above and beyond to create a festive atmosphere, meticulously decorating every inch of our home and encouraging us to make long wish lists. To add to the magic, I was born on December 25th, which amplified my mother’s dedication to ensuring we had a truly Merry Christmas.
It wasn’t until my teenage years that I began to notice the anxiety that crept into my father as my mother’s holiday spending spiraled out of control. The thrill of waking up to a room filled with presents often drowned out my father’s understandable concern about finances. My siblings and I would eagerly tear through our gifts while holiday music played softly, blissfully unaware of the emotional turmoil brewing beneath the surface. But as January came around, a heavy cloud of financial stress would settle over our home.
During this time, my father’s worries about money would reach a peak, and my mother’s overspending led to a mountain of debt. I witnessed their heated arguments over shopping habits and the emotional toll it took on my mother, who often felt invisible in these discussions. On the drive to school, my father would confide in me about his greatest fear: bankruptcy.
I also remember mornings when my father would leave a disorganized stack of cash on the table for my mother while she managed household duties. They had separate finances, and my mother was largely unaware of my father’s income, though she knew it was enough to maintain a comfortable lifestyle. While we weren’t wealthy, we weren’t struggling either. We existed in a gray area of financial stability, and to this day, I still don’t know the specifics of my father’s earnings because he rarely talked about it.
Looking back, I realize my father likely feared that discussing finances openly would somehow jeopardize his income. As a child, I witnessed the disparity in their financial roles—the hardworking provider versus the stay-at-home parent. This experience left a lasting impression on me, one that still resonates as I navigate my own financial challenges as an adult.
My husband, Alex, and I are not facing imminent eviction, but we are entrenched in financial difficulties. Living paycheck to paycheck has become our reality, often resorting to meals consisting solely of pasta for an entire week as we stretch the last few dollars in our account. Since the birth of our first child, we’ve found ourselves overdrawn more times than I can count and leaning heavily on family for support. Despite earning slightly more than the threshold for government assistance, the specter of financial insecurity looms large.
I often feel as though I’m reliving the financial anxieties that plagued my childhood. It’s infuriating. When Alex and I first met, I was juggling babysitting and pursuing an acting career in Los Angeles. My passion for performance was the only career path I had been encouraged to follow. My father and I unknowingly continued the cycle of debt by taking out loans for my education. Now, thirteen years later, I’m left with a significant balance.
Due to my upbringing, I spent years hesitating to apply for a credit card or understand how to use one responsibly. However, after my first marriage ended, I found myself needing credit to cover living expenses as I navigated life alone for the first time.
When I met Alex, he was grappling with his own significant student loan debt from a for-profit college. He was divorced and living frugally while working as an animator. Unsurprisingly, neither of us had openly discussed our financial struggles when we first connected online. We were both so consumed by our financial predicaments that discussions about money simply didn’t happen.
Reflecting on our situations, I’m not sure how much would have changed had we opened up about our financial histories. We were both on a never-ending rollercoaster of debt, living in an expensive city while trying to raise a family on a single income. My decision to stay home with our first child made things even more challenging, and I struggled to find part-time work that would fit our needs.
Shame has been a constant companion throughout this journey. Despite our best efforts to relocate in hopes of reducing our expenses, unforeseen emergencies and bills have piled up, leaving us gasping for financial air. I find myself feeling disappointed for being a late bloomer in managing money.
While this way of living isn’t for the faint-hearted, I have discovered that there are silver linings to facing my greatest financial fears. Despite the bleakness of our bank account, we’ve managed to keep food on the table and ensure our children are happy. My family has been incredibly supportive as we navigate these difficulties. While my financial anxiety isn’t as severe as my father’s was, the strength I’ve gained in overcoming these challenges is invaluable.
Learning to manage and save money feels akin to an inexperienced hiker attempting to scale Mount Everest. Just because I’m far from the summit doesn’t mean I don’t have the right to climb. I’ve realized that it’s no longer beneficial to harbor shame over a task I was never taught how to handle. However, it is my responsibility to learn, and I’m committed to doing just that.
With newfound clarity, I’m determined to have open conversations about finances with Alex—something my parents never did. I understand that progress isn’t always linear, but it’s still worth pursuing. I will treat myself with the patience and compassion I deserve as I navigate this journey.
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Summary
This article recounts the author’s experiences growing up in a financially strained household and how those experiences shaped her adult financial challenges. Now married and navigating her own financial struggles, she reflects on her upbringing and recognizes the importance of open conversations about money. Despite the difficulties, she finds strength in her journey and remains hopeful for financial progress.