Let's Talk About: Money
My submersion into the pool of adulthood has meant for my acute awareness of the number at the top of my bank account. I need to talk about money – cue uncomfortable grimace – in all its mysterious and taboo glory, because the fact that no one EVER speaks about it makes the concept of dosh even more confusing than it already is. Instead of hearing about how much more of it we need, I think it’s worth tapping into the fact that we can create either a positive or destructive relationship with it.
I was lucky enough to grow up in a household where my parents instilled positive work ethic. My first job saw me from middle school through to university; I’d put in the hours, save up my pennies, and it rewarded me with ten blissful months abroad without having to work a single day.
When I was travelling, I was in no way frugal, but I was tight with my budget. It was a complete experience-based spender-bender of which all my money went into things like accommodation and train tickets and red wine. I didn’t buy things nearly the entire time.
But catch 22 – I looove to buy things. I get a lot of happiness from buying tangible objects and knowing that I own them. And I think that’s a factor of being human; we all like new things, we all like owning possessions, and feeling satisfaction from purchasing things is wholly acceptable, provided the purchase behaviour is a positive one.
When I got home and back into the rhythm of working, my mindset of carefully allocating my money went out the window. Every dollar was ammunition to my spending frenzy. I’d shop for consecutive days at a time, I’d eat out with friends several times a week, I’d buy two of the same thing just because I could. Each purchase left me feeling terribly guilty afterwards, yet I’d step away from each one wanting even more than before. My relationship with my bank account was OFFICIALLY a destructive one.
This cycle went on for months – buying, GUILT, wanting more, GUILT, buying more, GUILT – all until I got accepted to study in Melbourne. That’s when the terrifying concept of RENT began to weevil its way into my mind, and I knew that unless I stopped my shopping in its tracks, I wouldn’t be leaving home any time soon.
It was SO hard to reign in my spending habits – there were still endless lists of things I wanted, but I suddenly had to realise that buying a $45 candle (not my wisest purchase) would soon cover my weekly grocery bill. It took all my willpower to cut off this growing addiction and revert to my saving mindset. BUT!! Unbeknownst to me, this detox period allowed my mind to do this really amazing thing where I actually started to distinguish want from carelessness.
Let me explain…
When I stopped buying things the second I saw them, or the second someone on Instagram or YouTube TOLD me I needed them, it meant that every moment I spent not having them made me either continue thinking about them, or completely forget about them. That’s the beauty of purchasing with intention – it’s taking a step back, prioritising, and realising that if I was still thinking about something after a few weeks or even months of seeing it then I must really want it.
This method of patience is what restored my relationship with my bank account. Now, I apply it to things as minor as my grocery list (making sure I plan it the week before) to things as pricey as a new computer or bike (these have been on my mind for months, and I’m still not ready to take the plunge). I of course still indulge myself occasionally, but for the most part, I make sure that I allocate the money I’ve worked hard for towards things that will bring me maximum benefit and satisfaction. I feel like I’ve found the healthy middle ground in all this money business, and I think it's so important for every else to be aware of it too (especially you - yes, you with the $45 candle in your cart... give it a couple of weeks, yeah?!)