Finding My Path – Part 7: The Financial Blues

There isn’t really anything on Earth that makes me more uncomfortable than talking about money. I mean, I suppose I also hate watching people kiss in movies, but talking about money would be at least third on my list of things I’d like to avoid forever and ever, amen. I grew up in a family where we had money, but I didn’t know it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a Trump or anything, but my dad was the head of a prestigious department at the local university and later became dean, so we did pretty okay. Both of my parents came from urban, working class (under the poverty line) backgrounds, and for them, money was something that was never discussed. I was raised thinking we had just enough to get by, but at the same time, I always had great computers, access to wonderful extra curriculars (space camp ain’t cheap, y’all) and logically I knew that we had more than what I assumed. The result was I never asked questions about money and was pretty much always freaked out about not having enough. In college I spent nights crying in my bed because my car broke down or a class required an extra-expensive book, even though I knew my parents would bail me out if I needed it. I paid for much of my own education via scholarships and part time jobs, and although I was really proud of this fact, I never really understood what it meant.

On top of all of this, I realized early on that I was super uninterested in math, so I refused almost all business or economics courses in school. My first few years out of college I spent living paycheck to paycheck, while paying off student loans. I was lucky enough to get out of debt about a year after Trent and I got married, but after that, I completely checked out when it came to the financial discussion. We had a baby, I worked full time, Trent was starting a business, and the whole thing overwhelmed me. So I told Trent he was in charge of financial stuff, everything from paying bills to saving for the kids’ college. I removed myself from the conversation, because when I was in it, I was a freak of nature. I would panic over having no money, or bitch about wanting to spend more since I was working so hard every day. I was the worst.

In the past six years, we have gone from a two income household, to one income/one stay at home parent, to two working parents with one income / one new business / one kid in expensive daycare, to two kids and two incomes that almost double what we made six years ago. That’s a pretty intense financial ride, and I have ignored every bit of it. But I can’t do it anymore.

I want to move forward with my life professionally, and that means possibly taking a big financial hit. Trent basically (and rightfully) told me if I want to do something new with my life, I need to look at our financial situation and assess where I can save and what we can cut. So a few weeks back, for the first time in years, I sat down with a glass of wine and our Mint.com account to see where we are. At first I was terrified, overwhelmed and on the verge of a panic attack. But after a few days, I found myself feeling more confident. I made pie charts and graphs and started working on both a personal and business financial plan. I couldn’t have surprised myself more!

I’m still not there yet. I still have so much money noise, and it’s been built up for thirty years, so I know it’s going to take a lot of work. But for the first time, I’m willing to do that work. I want to be a part of the conversation. And for me, that’s a really big deal.

Onward!

(Photo above by Trent, who likes to take pictures of me when I’m not paying attention. They’re my favorites.)