More Money, More Problems

I consider myself fairly self-aware. I’ve lost and gained hundreds of pounds over the last four decades. I have food issues--I know this. I’ve had some good, some bad--but mostly ugly relationships with men. I have men issues--this, I also know. Me and my issues are well-acquainted; they surface in therapy all the time. So, how is it possible that I’m only now realizing I have money issues--at 46?

I’ve never been a big spender. I like nice things, but I’ve never spent more than a hundred dollars on a pair of shoes. And I’ve only bought one expensive purse in my life, and now that I think about it, where is that Michael Kors bag anyway?

In my life, I’ve always felt pretty level-headed about money. Sure, I’ve been able to dig myself out of debt a couple of times--but who hasn't? When I was in college, creditors pitched tents outside the dining hall and handed out credit cards with bags of Twizzlers, so of course I entertained myself with buying things I couldn't afford. I was in college and broke. So yes, I’ve been bankrupt with the worst credit score possible and I’ve been at the tippy-top of the credit score range.

But here's the thing--the amount of money I make has fluctuated just like my weight. Depending on the season in my life--my bank account is either portly or skin and bones.

How did I miss what was staring me in the face this whole time? I have money issues.

I suppose I didn’t recognize the problem because I grew up in an upper middle-class home where everything I needed was quickly provided. We lived in a large 5 bedroom, brick colonial in one of the most expensive suburbs outside of Washington, DC. My mother always had a top of the line Mercedes, and my father always had a truck, his sedan, two motorcycles and a Corvette . Whether it was clothes, video games, records or food--we always had more than enough. I didn’t want for anything--except for the attention of my father, who was always working to provide our lifestyle.

Without going to deep into the trenches of my daddy-daughter drama and all the madness I experienced as a child--just know that my dad wasn’t around very much. And while I must have known somewhere deep in my subconscious that he wasn’t around because he had women and children outside of my parent’s marriage--I chose to believe that it was his work and all the money that kept him away.

I began to hate his job and the money. I was a daddy’s girl--and I wanted to spend time with him. This is difficult to admit, but I believe epiphanies need to be shared. I can't be alone in this. Have you formed a connection between two things that aren't related? Money and love are two very different things, but somehow I have placed them together in a category with things that break my heart.

After discovering my unhealthy relationship with money, I'll need to sit with it for a little while to see what comes up before I begin the work needed to fix it. Just like food and relationships--I'll need to establish balance and boundaries with money. Self-discovery is a beautiful thing, and it's free.