I remember the first time I lost my mind over you. I was 14
and had just started one of my first jobs EVER – working at the Oregon Museum
of Science and Industry Science Store at Clackamas Town Center back in
Portland. I used to take the bus about an hour to get to that job. I don’t even
remember HOW I came to get that job, but it was great.
The bus ride? Not so much. Why? Well, first off, it was just
a long ride for a 14-year-old. Secondly, I had to be at work VERY early in the
morning. Which caused me to have to get up even earlier to take the bus and
THAT part, well, that was hell.
But the heaven was when I would cash my check and finally be
able to take care of myself. Get the things I wanted. Buy the things I needed
because it felt like I wouldn’t get them if I didn’t get them myself. It was
nice. Though it was tiring, that bus ride – it was also liberating because I
was proving to myself on multiple levels that I truly could take care of
myself.
That fateful day that I lost my mind over you, Money was
when in my 14-year-old indifference, I lost you. Oh man, the tears. The screams
of “why!?” that I shouted to the Heavens! The gnashing of teeth and rending of
my garments! I’d lost some money for the first time in my life and the world seemed
to crash down around my head, threatening to flatten the rest of my teenaged
life forever.
“Mom! Momma!!”
“What, son!? Are you hurt!?”
“I lost my money! I cashed my check and I think I dropped it or something!”
I’m in tears. I’ve always been the responsible one. Hell, I
had a JOB at 14. What happened when you lost money!? I had no idea. I expected
my Mother to give it back to me or replace it or something. Maybe the bank
would give it back to me. I didn’t know. All I knew was that…I didn’t have it in
my pocket where I put it. And I was inconsolable.
“Well, did you check your steps?”
“Yeah but I didn’t see anything!”
“It’s gone now.”
“Mom, no, I need it back! It was all my money!”
“Well, son, I bet you that will be the last time you lose
some money.”
And she was right. I definitely can count on one hand the
number of times I’ve lost money. Probably like, one other time. That’s it.
But…that experience is one that sticks out vividly when I think about you,
Money.
Other than that, Money is something I’ve never ever had
enough of. Personally, professionally, emotionally, physically to take care of
everything, etc. I’ve never had enough. Sure, I’ve had enough in that I
haven’t been destitute and homeless more than a few times in my life but other
than that? Extra money has never been in my orbit. No matter how hard I’ve
tried to manifest it.
Not just manifest it on some Buddhist-chanting, vision board
writing, positive thinking shit. I’ve worked. HARD. SINCE I was 14. I’ve wanted
to be an entrepreneur for as long as I can remember. Hell, I got my first
micro-loan around the same time I had gotten that first job I remember so
vividly above.
Between not having the financial literacy (even though I
also took classes around those things when I was younger), growing up in a
fractured family and simply being surrounded with people who ALSO didn’t ever
have enough, Money – you’ve always been an elusive bitch. And I’m so tired of
chasing you.
I don’t want to lose my mind over the absence of you in my
life any longer, Money. I simply want you to be to present or for the need for
you to be immolated from my life. You’re tiring yet needed for everything. I
hate this capitalistic ass country. MORE SOCIALISM PLEASE, because I’d rather
Money be a companion as I live life rather than a requirement for me to live
said life.
Money, you’re not inherently a whore. Just hoarded by the
Whores. Do I want to become one of those whores? Yes, but not at the expense of
my morals. Or my sanity. Or my relationships. Or my dreams. I just want more of
you so that I can do the things in life that I want to do and that I have this
unshakable feeling that I can do.
I’ve never had any collateral for a loan. No generational
wealth that was gifted to me. No credit. Just seat of my pants, learning the
lessons about how Money can be a real bitch. One that’s on a short leash in
this world, at that. So how do I get to you Money when you seem to systemically
be so far out of my reach?
I don’t know. All I know is that I haven’t lost any money
since the first time we met, Money. I try to hold on to you as best I can.
Save, where I can. Invest my pennies in Acorn. Whatever it is. I’ve even
avoided your best friend Credit since I never got a real lesson in how to treat
that motherfucker, either. I’m still paying for the way I treated him!
So, if you want to come visit this man whose been working
since the age of 14 to be a good steward of the fruits of his hard labor, I’m
open Money. I’m sorry for the way we’ve circled each other’s orbit for the past
few years. I apologize for the way I treated you at the lunch table and in my
private conversations about you and all your trillions of kids circulating in
the world. Please, accept my apology and come sit with me.
I’m calmer and more understanding than when I was 14. I
don’t bite. I promise. Unless you want me to. I lost you back then, but I want
to find you now for my own sanity and well-being.
