Pretty Poor in Pink

Here’s what it’s like to be poor: 

It’s embarrassing. It’s mentally exhausting. You’re constantly thinking about money and how to acquire it in the shortest time possible. And because you’re embarrassed and so mentally exhausted, you never make the smartest decisions and almost always end up doing the wrong thing. I think that’s why the rich get richer and why banks will only give credit cards and loans to people who don’t actually need it – because they know this is the vicious cycle of being poor. 

I used to think there was a difference between being poor and being broke, but now I think it’s pretty much the same thing. Being poor means that you have no choice, you were born into it, and the world is not helping you out of it; in fact it pushes you deeper into poverty with its politics and socio-economics. Being broke means you’re just stupid with your finances and you have a steady (if sometimes unreliable or inconsistent in amount) source of cash, and you end up not having any because of your own decisions. Presumably, the latter is easier to get out of. 

But it’s really all just about the way you think of money and what you want to use it for. People are different, they are the variable factors. Not having money is not the problem, it’s the way we think. Paradoxically, the ones I know who have risen above poverty are those who believe and act like they are poor. Poor, not downtrodden or defeated, which to many of us is synonymous with each other. It sounds preachy and counter-intuitive, but is worth a try – to first adjust the way we think and then accept our lot in life while at the same time trying to get to a better situation. 

I grew up in a household where our financial status was, at best, comfortable, and at worst, completely insane. We would cycle between major purchases – a house or three – and crazily tightening the belt on food – egg-and-rice meals for weeks on end. This obviously didn’t teach me and my siblings much about valuing money the correct way, that is to say as a tool to assist us in achieving our ideally good life goals, which should be the main focus of our energy. Instead, what it taught us was that possession of large amounts of money is the best way to liberation and happiness, that this is our main purpose in life. 

An unfortunate result of this was that I found immense pleasure in buying things and paying for luxurious services, however temporary they might be. I carried over the bad financial habits to my own life as an adult, making purchases that made me feel valuable and successful – like 40-dollar shower gels and 1,500-dollar gym memberships – and then having instant noodles for meals because I suddenly can’t afford to eat.

Am I broke? Yes. Am I poor? Yes. Has it stopped me from making these stupid money decisions? No, in fact, it has facilitated it. And the cycle won’t be broken until I actually accept that I can’t afford nice things.

Mind Control

Aside from starting to accept that I’m poor, there are also other thoughts I need to redirect. For one, that my value as a person is directly proportionate to how much money I have. In fact, it’s directly proportionate to how well I can live within my means. This adjustment in thinking requires that I also stop caring how I look to other people, particularly strangers, but just as importantly, the people in my circle. It’s certainly difficult to hang with friends and family who have money at their quick dispense, who voluntarily manage their finances (when they don’t have to because there’s so much of it). 

I have to stop putting such high value on praises that I receive just for having in my possession brand-name things. Once I’ve succeeded in doing this, when people push me aside and devalue me for not being wealthy, it will presumably not affect me as much either. No more placing my D&G sunglasses on the table to establish my worth, no more feeling the need to buy a new wallet to replace my ratty old one because it embarrasses me when I imagine judgment from people when I pull it out, no more strategic peppering in conversations of favorite designers. 

My wallet (upper right) is so broke right now.

You’d think that would be easy for a pretty basic person like me – I don’t even have a sustained interest in brand-name things or shopping. I only like (some) expensive things because all my possessions that have lasted me years have cost me a lot of money, and so I tend to go for those. It’s just that sometimes, I would go for something designer to please someone – anyone – and get a puppy-treat comment about how wow I must be worth a lot to be able to afford such things.

What a load of bullshit, and yet I can’t stop. #girlswithlowselfesteem

Money Buys Me Happy

I still stand by my argument that money definitely buys happiness. Having money means I no longer spend so much time and effort budgeting (much), which means I have energy to pour into hobbies that make me feel good about myself. Money makes it easy for me to buy books so I can focus on enjoying reading. It affords me comfortable furniture so I can work in a non-cluttered environment. It helps me enjoy experiences like traveling and meeting new people and having projects. 

Money definitely does not make me feel trapped or poor. I still want shit-tons of it. 

And maybe I'll always be that way. I just hope I can eventually have as much interest in succeeding in life and career that I do in the acquiring of money. If not more.