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WHEN I WAS IN MY 20s, I didn’t think much about money. My spending wasn’t lavish. I didn’t go to high-end restaurants or wear expensive clothes.
Still, if I wanted a book or a compact disc, I bought it. I wasted money on fast food instead of cooking at home. I blew money on electronics like a fancy CD player and bought a bigger, more expensive television than I needed. For somebody who considered himself reasonably bright, I was stupid with money.
The low point of my financial life came shortly after I got divorced in the mid-1980s. I was age 28. Despite having a good job working for a newspaper, I was in debt and responsible for significant child support payments. I lived in an apartment I couldn’t afford and spent money I didn’t have, running up larger and larger credit card debt. I hit financial rock bottom when I applied for a Sears credit card with a $500 credit limit—and got turned down.
I remember sitting with pen and paper many nights, adding and subtracting numbers, trying to figure out how I kept getting deeper and deeper into the hole every month. Unfortunately for my bottom line, my interests lay in getting better at my job and reading good books, not in cutting expenses, clipping coupons and giving serious thought before making what were often silly purchases.
Maybe I was trying to even the score. I grew up poor. We didn’t go hungry and we were loved, but money was scarce. We lived on a farm several miles from anything like a grocery store or movie theater.
For a few years, my two younger siblings and I received an allowance of 35 cents a week. I have no idea how that sum was determined, but I do know a quarter and a dime in the late 1960s bought a comic book, a candy bar and a coke for each of us when we went into town. Those two coins each week were important.
Memories of having no money can leave a lasting mark. Like me, some HumbleDollar readers have likely experienced periods of their life when they were afraid to check their mailbox, knowing there were likely bills in envelopes that screamed FINAL NOTICE.
And then there was the angst of writing a check for an important bill a day before getting paid, and having to calculate the odds of the check getting cashed before my paycheck got deposited. Getting hit with a $35 overdraft fee back then was like getting punched in the stomach.
Thanks to my good fortune of meeting a smart, practical woman, I eventually stopped spending more than I made, aggressively paid down debt and got smarter about my finances. Wising up was not immediate. I was stubborn. Fortunately, my future wife didn’t consider me a lost cause—and didn’t send me on my way.
Perhaps my humbling money experiences are why I’ve always been drawn to books about how to be smarter about money, or how to arrange your life if you don’t have any, or what you should do if you come into a huge financial windfall. Books such as Barbara Ehrenreich’s Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting By in America and Scott Smith’s thriller A Simple Plan are fascinating reads.
My wife and I worked hard, and saved throughout our marriage. And yet do any of us ever stop thinking about money, even if we’re comfortably retired? A side effect of having once been broke is the fear, however irrational, of it happening again. In my mind’s eye, there’s always the possibility of another Sears moment, one that’s quietly and patiently waiting, just out of sight.
Tony Wilson spent most of his career working as a journalist and then newsroom technology trainer at news organizations in Kentucky, Kansas City, New York City, London and Geneva. He finished his career as the translations planner at printer manufacturer Lexmark. Tony’s previous article was Happy to Follow.
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After a 54 year career in financial services and academia, teaching financial service topics, I read your article with a degree of shame. When I look back on some of the dumb “money moves” of my past, I hang my head.
I am sure there are additional dumb money moves, but these are the worst.
I take some solace in knowing these errors occurred in my 20’s and early 30’s and later in life I made up for them as much as possible.
I remember in the late 50’s and early sixties, while living in Germany, as an Army Brat, my 4 siblings and I got 50 cents a week allowance. That would cover a game at the bowling ally with a coke and hot dog…or a movie with popcorn and a drink. Good Times.
Until I got to high school in the US in 1966, I had no idea there were people more well off than my family and me. Interacting with non military folks for the first time, I became aware of name brands, and logo’d clothing, and kids driving their own cars. Quite a difference, but years later, I feel like I was fortunate in realizing things that you earn are far more valuable than things given to you. My 50th high school reunion bore out that truth.
Thanks for the thoughtful and interesting article.
My Dad was born in ’33 and had a lot of memories about growing up on a farm in lean times. I still hear those stories in the back of my mind…like when my Dad’s older brother was given a dime to buy a loaf of bread and whatever else (!) but as he was walking to the corner store, and was tossing the dime up in the air and catching it in his mouth…he swallowed it. They had to wait to get that dime back before they could get the loaf of bread. And they only had an outhouse. So, I like to think my grandparents are looking over my shoulder smiling as I refuse to throw away the heel and I make toast with it!
i grew up poor, on welfare, divorced mother of 3 raised us, and that experience still influences my thoughts and spending habits. Like the author, we had food and shelter, but nothing extra. We never had a family car. Now, I am what others would consider wealthy, but when it comes to buying everyday things, like food and clothing, etc., I look for the best prices. For example, with commodities like milk, cream, bread, etc., I refuse to shop at super markets that charge 50% more for those items. I am not one of those who doesn’t enjoy the fruits of my labor though. We are not lacking the good things in life, and I do spend money on my adult kids and whatever we want. But that lifetime experience with money is still there. I will not waste it.
I love this article because it seems like so many HD writers and commenters have always had it together way more than we did. I was also turned down for a Sears card in my 20s—because of an almost nonexistent credit history and very little income. Who knew? Not me. I always joke that my husband and I were too dumb to know that we were too poor to get married (at age 23).
Things started turning around in our 30s when we finally both finished school and had careers, but we also had two young kids and lived in (expensive) California, and money was still tight. An inheritance in my 40s and then empty-nest/career growth years for us in our 50s and now 60s have put us in a much better place financially. But it took us quite awhile to get there.
“I remember sitting with pen and paper many nights, adding and subtracting numbers, trying to figure out how I kept getting deeper and deeper into the hole every month.”
Your writing later on reveals that you and your wife figured out both your problem and solution lay in simple math. You were spending more than you were earning, and you needed to reverse the scenario.
This is why all school districts should require a personal finance course for graduation.
Gosh I remember those days also of trying to time sending a check to when I got paid, no room for error!
we immigrated, arrived in the US aged 30 with $2000 and a suitcase. We had to beg the bank manager for a credit card and pledge part of that $2000 as surety to get it..
We bought a canoe instead of furniture so the canoe upside-down in the apartment served us as both dining and coffee table.. (would do again).
Saved money for two years, then took a year off and lived out of our van while travelling from New Mexico to Alaska and back again.
Started again with nearly $3000 woo-hoo ! and we had the van, so knew we could always live out that if we had to.
Now we are technically millionaires, but not sure there is any such thing as ‘comfortably retired’ .. we are still at the mercy of healthcare, interest rates, and the vagaries of the markets.
Tony, thanks for this honest article. My take is that the same fear of being broke you mention is also the motivating factor for making sure it never happens again. A little fear can sometimes be a good thing!
Good article Tony. It’s like hearing the confession of a penitent sinner.
I’ve been well-off all my life, and I still worry about money. Every penny pinched – I come from a frugal family.
Kudos to you for correcting course in mid-life. I think that many young adults take the same path early (I was guilty) and some continue on that road their entire working life, and then decimate whatever money they managed to save for retirement. I call it the cookie jar syndrome, reaching into that jar of money trying to satisfy their junk purchase appetite. I once had an age 80ish couple bemoaning the fact that they were unable to deduct credit card interest on their tax return.
Tony, thanks for the honest article. I’m sure it was a challenge to write. Many of us experienced early career financial challenges. It’s to you and your wife’s credit that you turned things around.
You are right, rich or poor, we are all shaped by our experience. The thing is it seems we either try to emulate that experience or try to avoid it sometimes at all costs.
I found that when it came to money matters my goal was to do the opposite of my family, but they were scared by the Great Depression.
Well done. Thanks for getting me to look back on my own personal finance journey with honesty and without shame. It doesn’t mean I still don’t struggle with frivolous buying impulses, I mostly resist,,,mostly,