Day 53: Can’t afford a relationship?

Have you ever thought that a lack of money could be problematic in a relationship? Obviously if you’ve been seeing each other for a while, you probably know and accept one another’s financial situation. But what about when you first meet? Would you be embarrassed to tell a potential partner that you’re skint? Might you even pretend not to be, for a bit, just to make life a bit easier?

I guess finding a cheap venue for a date is easier in the summer; you can hang out in the park, go for a walk. All for the price of a lemon lolly.
As winter approaches, inexpensive hangouts are harder to find. I guess, as a first date, you could meet for a coffee without breaking the bank. At some stage, though, your date might suggest drinks, dinner, the cinema. Do you ’fess up, and tell them that you can’t afford it, or do you go along with it, to save face?

If you’re both in the same boat, financially speaking, it’s got to be easier. Knowing that the other person can’t afford the Ritz either means that you can suggest a cheap date without looking like, well, a cheap date.

But what if he or she is wealthier than you? I’m not talking about Bill Gates level here, but just a little bit better off. Going to the cinema might be their idea of a great night out, while you spend the whole film fretting over the price of the ticket.

I guess what I’m really talking about here is shame. Despite my best efforts to acclimatise to spending less, I still detest that sinking feeling in the stomach of knowing that I can’t afford something. Again, I’m not talking about diamonds, or a mansion. I’m embarrassed to tell someone that I’ve only just met, or whom I’m getting to know, that I can’t really afford THAT restaurant, to go for a second course, or share a bottle of wine.

Should I be nervous of telling them? Well, you might think that anyone who turns you down on the basis of your wealth is not worth seeing anyway. On the other hand, maybe they would just be acting rationally.

In my opinion, in a good relationship, you enjoy spending time with one another. Sure, you each have your own interests, but fundamentally there are things you want to do with one another. Let’s imagine that your potential partner’s hobbies include skiing, expensive meals out, and front row theatre seats in the West End, none of which you can afford. Is it shallow of that person not to want to be with you, because you don’t have enough money? I’ll leave that for you to ponder.

Thanks for reading.

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Day 30: Reflecting on the first 30 days

I realise that I’ve made this all sound very easy. I’ve written about all the new experiences I’ve had, from the mundane (writing a shopping list) to the more exciting (becoming a mystery shopper, “upcycling” my desk).

Perhaps I glamorise “being poor” because, in the grand scheme of things, I’m not. What’s more, I expect to earn more, and not less, in the future. So, ultimately, I’m play-acting.

I’m not skipping meals for lack of money. When the boiler or fridge break, they are fixed. I’m not shivering with hypothermia through winter as a result of having no more money to feed the meter.

I hope I haven’t offended people as a result of my flippant references to not “having enough”. I’m only too aware that I am very lucky to earn as much as I do, and that I only have such a well-paid, professional-level job as a result of my upbringing. My parents prioritised my education at every stage, and supported and pushed me to the best of my abilities. If they had not, I would not be where I am today.

I’m also lucky enough that when I was stupid and irresponsible enough to get into debt, my parents were able to bail me out.

If I told you that I have struggled with this budget-slimming, you’d have every right to be totally unsympathetic. I struggle with not buying overpriced caffeine. I struggle not walking into a shop when I see something beautiful in the window. I struggle not meeting my friends for drinks or meals out. I struggle not to buy theatre tickets, especially when I see a great review, or a favourite actor starring.

So what? Get over it!

That “we’re all in this together” slogan is utter nonsense. Boo-hoo, I can’t see Simon Callow or Hedda Gabler. Alas, one shall have to cut down on caviar and champagne for breakfast. To argue that the impact of this recession is equal across the social classes is absurd. Our difficulties are simply not on the same scale.

Nevertheless, the hurdles that I’m confronting, while minute trifles to most, are difficult for me.

I am of the opinion that I must do two things to avoid being a risible figure here.

One; never lose sight of what most people have (and do not have). Be it by giving to the South Wimbledon food bank, volunteering with Crisis at Christmas and the Holy Trinity Church Winter night shelter for the homeless, or simply by lending an ear to lonely people at church, who just need someone to listen.

Two; by taking on a personal challenge, to be less materialistic and to spend less. In the first instance, it doesn’t matter too much if my spending levels are still relatively high, so long as I attempt something that is difficult for me. In time I can work on beating down my expenses further. For now, though, I’m satisfied that I’m trying. When the going gets tough…

Wow, 30 days already! Thank you so much for reading (almost 2,000 views in the first month!!)

Day 5: The Poverty of Affluence

“The more you believe that happiness comes from material wealth, the more likely you are to be depressed, distressed, and anxious – and the less actual well-being you’re likely to experience”

To Buy or Not to Buy, April Lane Benson, PhD

“Now that the Birkin’s been lost to the Wags, we’re all about the classic St Louis tote (£580)”

From today’s Sunday Times, Style Magazine

A teenage girl recently visited Uganda as part of a church trip. On her return, she announced to her parents that she was getting rid of many of her material possessions; she had realised that she didn’t need everything that she owned.

For me, there are two aspects of our society that are revealed by this anecdote.

Firstly, that the surroundings we grow up in are, to us, the epitome of “normal”. Challenging our norms is nigh-on impossible, precisely because we do not realise that our “normal” is something that could be objectionable to some. The girl didn’t realise that she had masses of unnecessary “stuff” until she was confronted with a world completely unlike her own. It took this journey to the other hemisphere for her to understand that her “normal” world wasn’t, in fact, normal at all.

Secondly, our culture of “keeping up with the Joneses” or “affluenza” is exposed. As April Benson writes, in ‘To Buy or Not to Buy’, our society has started to believe its own consumerist lie: that the more material possessions we own, the happier we will be. So, in a state of paralysis, we march out to buy the latest i-gadget, 600-quid handbag or ever-larger flatscreen television. If we could all simultaneously take a step back and examine our own behaviour, what would we think? If, say, we were all dumped in the middle of Uganda, or Malawi, or Burundi, with nothing. Would we look at families struggling to pay for food, water, healthcare, and sanitation, and think that those UGG-stamped boots, or latest version of that smartphone were still so essential? Maybe. But, I would argue, probably not.

How hard is it to change your notion of the norm? I visited Malawi in the summer of 2005, and it was one of the best experiences of my life. In 2010 I went to Africa again, and saw slums, sewage-strewn townships just outside of Cape Town. Both of these challenged my own behaviour; I felt superficial, selfish and extremely privileged. It wasn’t long, though, before I fell back into step, marching along to the consumerist bandwagon’s tune.

Let’s be honest here. Living without succumbing is pretty difficult. It’s all very well saying that our desire for material possessions is superficial or ridiculous, but could you step off the merry-go-round? I won’t pretend I’ll be living like the average Malawian, but I am trying to take a step back to examine my personal, skewed, norm. The way I’m approaching this is to question myself every single time I’m about to hand over my money. Do I need this? What would happen if I didn’t buy it? Can I afford it, factoring in everything else I have to pay for this month?

Hope you’ve had a great weekend, thanks for reading. x