If I were to give advice of any kind, it would be this: Don’t
let people make you feel like you are not good enough. You are good enough.
By the time this blog drops, I will have removed you from my
life. You have been a source of lifestyle-related anxiety and shame for years.
I endured this nonsense for longer than I ought to have, because I thought that
maybe you were right.
Shopping at Walmart was bad, and I should be ashamed of
going there, right? But my budget said “take your ass to Walmart.” So I started
avoiding going on shopping trips with you, because we would go to Target or
Meijer. The prices might only be a few dollars difference, but on my budget,
that’s a hit I had to plan for.
Fast food was out of the question. The food was not food,
and I ought to be ashamed for even thinking of eating it. Well, unless it was
Panda Express, where I could find nothing I wanted to eat. We ate there a lot.
I felt like I had to save up if you wanted to eat somewhere
with me, or suffer the shame of having to tell you I couldn’t afford it so you
could offer to pay for me. I felt grateful to have someone pay for my food, but
I feel like I was your poor friend.
I look back on our friendship and remember all the shit cars
I’ve owned, from a 1987 Buick Century to my current lemon from a buy here pay
here lot, and I wonder how many times you secretly made fun of me for driving a
craigslist beater or a buy here pay here vehicle? I think back on all the times
I insisted on driving and I feel sick, and that’s not okay. I should not have
to feel bad for spending within my means.
I have been on my own, more or less, since I was 18 years
old. In December of 2018, that will be 16 years. In that time, I have been
largely responsible for providing my own food, utilities, my own place to live,
and choosing a car for myself. I have been a fully capable and mostly
functional adult for 16 years. I had parents who were not big on helping their
kids financially once they were living on their own. I learned not to ask
people for money or help of any kind. What I have, I got on my own.
My life is not defined by owning a new car, eating at fancy restaurants,
shopping at Target and believing that all of this equals transcendence from poverty.
My life is defined by experiences, emotions, and time spent with friends and
family.
My time spent with this you has been defined by my sense of
shame at admitting that I bought something at Walmart, that I drive an American
vehicle almost 10 years old that came from a bad credit lot. My time spent with
you has been defined by budgeting around your refusal to eat anywhere with
reasonable prices, your need to show me how much you spent on something and
refer to it as “affordable,” a real slap in the face when I’m struggling to pay
off debt and keep food in my kitchen at the same time. I’ve realized that I am your
poor friend, the one who stands in contrast to you and makes you look better. I
feel like my efforts to get ahead in life are amusing to you. I feel like you
kept me around for the entertainment value, and I am done feeling like that.
The last time I was shopping with this person, we went to
Target (of course) to buy fans to help the AC cope with the heat. I went for
the poor people $16 box fan that was $14 at Walmart, and he went for the $80
bullshit Tornado fan, which he promptly returned and replaced because it had a
minor defect in the blade that caused an almost imperceptible noise during
operation. I am just glad my fan turns on.
There is a huge difference in how we approach life, and I
owe it to myself to separate from this kind of attitude, at least online. I am
over being ashamed of where I grew up, where I shop, the car I drive, the
apartment I live in, the place I work, the friends I have, my family’s religion,
and the fact that I currently have no desire or need or means to leave this god
awful state.
I am done feeling ashamed of spending within my means. I am
done leaving your house and crying on the way home because of something you
said to me that made me feel stupid and inferior. I do not need that in my
life. I deserve to feel proud of myself. I have a place to live, a car, a job,
and I am alive.
If you really want to know my opinion, I think you spend way
too much money on stupid shit. $25 is way too much for one person for a casual
meal, and I refuse to participate in that hallucination of reality anymore. I
think that Walmart, while not as clean or trendy or fun to shop in, has a wider
selection of things in my price range than Target. I think that spending $80 on
a fucking fan is actually really stupid at any income level. I think that Panda
Express is overhyped, Americanized bullshit that I would never eat on my own. I
think that paying $100 more per month than I do for the same size apartment
just to live next to a busy highway with no swimming pool and no amenities is
the definition of reckless overspending. I also think that buying a new car for
the novelty of it is idiotic. Most of all, I think it’s really confusing and
enraging to see memes about Trump voters and overthrowing the rich interspersed
with pictures of expensive looking food that I would only be able to eat at a
wedding or an awards dinner, if I were lucky, but that you just happen to have
the budget to make at home. To me, that seems like you have no point of
reference for what it’s like to be poor, and I find that sad.
Just because someone can't afford better doesn't mean they don't know any better. It doesn't mean they're stupid, or that there's something wrong with them. It's the reality of having a prohibitive budget: some things are just not possible, so you make due.
If you feel like your friends are there to make you look
better, you’re misunderstanding the purpose of friendship. It hurts to think
back on all the times we spent together and realize that I was viewed in such a
negative and unflattering light. I am done being your poor friend who makes bad
financial decisions. I am free to live my life the way I want to, with or
without your commentary.
