OK! Let’s dive in. What’s this about living beneath your means?
*rubs hands gleefully*
Now, you might be thinking, “Why should I listen to you?” Don’t worry! I get asked this A LOT. See Exhibit A from this morning:
Actually, you shouldn’t just listen to me … or to anyone else! You should be skeptical. A healthy dose of “Really?” goes a long way toward good money management skills. It might even be the place to start …
We all carry baggage from our personal histories, things that influence our behavior now, financial and otherwise, for good and ill. A recent thread on my family’s group chat had us all reminiscing about the time my dad found a black pig in our very suburban, very residential neighborhood … and brought it home.
Coincidentally, my four-year-old—pictured above—is named after my dad.
But back to the baggage. I don’t think it’s an accident that I’m, ahh, somewhat of a control freak about my personal finances (Yes! This, too, could be you!). When I was growing up, my family was not poor, but we were not particularly well off either. My parents were immigrants and, like many others, they came to America—Mei Guo or, literally, beautiful country—for the educational and professional opportunities it afforded.
My dad went to dental school, my mom waitressed to support the family, and before you think this story has a Horatio Alger-like happy ending, let me tell you … my dad was a character. One of my earliest childhood memories is of a dinner party at our house with my dad holding court, always the raconteur, and everyone doubled over with laughter, one woman giggling so hard, she promptly tumbled out of her chair.
He passed away in 2013, but to this day, when I run into his friends back home, they always say—in Mandarin—chuckling and shaking their heads, “Your dad … he was one-of-a-kind.”
Everyone who thinks it would be fun to grow up with a “one-of-a-kind” dad, please raise your hand. The best I can say about it is that it gave my mom, siblings, and me a unique bond. Where was I? Oh, right. Baggage.
My dad’s idiosyncrasies extended to his financial affairs. To put it mildly, he was not the most prudent investor. By the time my formative years rolled around, I had quite a bit of empirical evidence that my dad’s money management strategies did not put us on a high-percentage path to financial stability and prosperity, and a skeptic was born.
“Really? Really, Dad? An emu farm? Emus? REALLY?”
Turns out, once you’ve seen the “Buy High, Sell Low” movie up close and personal a couple of times, it’s hard to go back to being a normal person that doesn’t think everyone is trying to swindle you. On the flip side, I’ve never invested in an emu farm.
We all believe certain things about ourselves and our money. We get a lot of external messages, too. Maybe it’s time for a healthy dose of skepticism.
“I can’t save any money.” Really?
“Kids need brand new clothes.” Really?
“It’s all too complicated.” Really?
“We need more space.” Really?
“You need heated seats in the Outback.” Really? (Actually, this one … yes.)
So thank you, Dad. If this was all part of your grand master plan … good one!
I miss you.
Emu Farm, I haven’t heard of that one. However, in the late 1980’s my parents got a financial advisor. It did not go well. Looking back, if your financial advisor is also your bartender, think before you hand over your blue collar pension. Somehow or other that investment went into Fish Farms in Alabama. Surprise, surprise, it went bust. And then you have me — cautious about advisors and still driving my (purchased new, which will never happen again) 2005 Honda Civic in our one-car family. Thanks for writing and stirring the pot on living on less. I’d love a post on handling kiddo birthday invites — to give a gift or not, and if so, what is appropriate for the frugal folks?
That is a great topic … you can imagine the birthday invites with three kids! Thanks for reading, Melinda!