Tag: alone

We don’t talk about money. Be poor privately please.

Why are the poor poor? Not how did they become poor, but why are they still poor. Have you ever ask yourself that? If you are, or have been, you know why.

Based on the posts I see on social media, the reason is, because that person is either: lazy, entitled, or makes poor choices. Are there lazy and entitled people? Sure there are. But I guarantee 99% of poor people work 10 times as hard as a financially stable person. Their life depends on it. And there are a lot of people that make poor choices, I being one of them. But unless your poor choice is gambling away your family savings or working for the mob, most poor people’s bad choices are buying a pair of jeans or going out for drinks. Not quite what I would consider worthy of a lifetime struggle to provide for your family.

Why am I bringing this up? Because I’m a poor person trying very hard to obtain what others tell me I could get if I just worked harder. I’m trying reach that goal you told me I’m not entitled to, that I have to work for. What is that goal? To have a place to live of my own and to be able to feed my children and pay my bills without worry or anxiety.

I receive SNAP. Because I’m below the poverty line. Does that make you uncomfortable? If you don’t know me I’m sure it doesn’t. If you know me personally I’m sure you feel quite uncomfortable knowing that about me. I once had a family member harass me on a Facebook post. He was convinced that the reason I am struggling HAS TO BE because I deserve it. I’m an entitled millennial who wants everything handed to me. I deleted him off my Facebook and had myself a good cry. Where has he been the last 10 years? I am not a quiet person. I do not bottle things inside. I am very honest and open about the good and the bad in my life. Why is my struggle making him so angry? It’s my struggle. I’m not angry. I love sharing my struggle so that others can know and feel hopeful. He was legitimately angry. Zero compassion.

Then someone said something to me that put it in perspective. “Of course he is angry. And of course he is blaming you. Because if he admits you’ve done everything you were supposed to and you are a good person, and are still suffering, then he would have to also admit that he stood by as you suffered for years and never offered you a hand of help.”

Holy crap. I used to always wonder why we didn’t talk about money. From a young age it was instilled in me that you never ask how much someone makes. And you don’t talk about how much you make. I remember asking, why we can’t talk about it. I was told it was because people that don’t make as much might get jealous and angry. It was to protect those who deserve their income from people who didn’t deserve it and wanted it.

Poor people don’t care if you know how much they make. I’ve had perfect strangers mention how much their check was in casual conversation. Poor people are not uncomfortable with talking about money. Whatevs. I’m broke but I needed some Chipotle. See, every single thing we do revolves around money. Like, if I buy the good toilet paper, will I have the gas to get my kids to school? Which bill can I be late on so I can replace my kids ripped school pants? We’re not handling our money with our sights set on vacation spots or the best investments. We’re trying to find a way to make sure we don’t have to eat peanut butter and jelly or cereal for dinner for the next week.

You know what would save me a lot of money? Being able to buy a house. My entire life has been at a standstill for the last year because the house I live in is unlivable. If I move my rent will be double to triple what it is now. It is not possible.

Poor people can’t buy houses. Not because they can’t afford them. Because the system is set up in a way to keep them poor.

I do not have a great credit score. To even have a chance at obtaining a mortgage I need 10% down. So let’s say I work for that goal. The houses in my area that I would be ideal for my family are about $150,000. But I don’t need ideal. I’m sure if I looked around and waited I could find something that makes do for about $100,000. So I need $10,000 to buy a house. With my current income I know I could save $100 a month. So that means in 8 years I could buy a house. If I lived extra poor I could probably save $200 a month. Then I could buy a house in 4 years. Do you see the problem? That means I still have to live in this shithole house with my four children until they are raised.

Let’s say, for argument’s sake, that I can save $500 a month. That’s only a year and a half. Buuuuuut. I receive Food Stamps. About $500 a month. And the second my assets exceed $2,250, I do not qualify anymore. So 5 months in, I wouldn’t be able to afford to save anymore. (2 years into my 8, 1 year onto my 4).

Why are the poor poor? Because unless someone steps in and knocks down the societal hurdles, we don’t have a choice. Why do poor people buy lottery tickets? Because there’s a better chance of winning the money to help pull them out of poverty than there is to do it by hard work. Why do the poor buy cups of coffee and get tattoos instead of saving? Because what’s the point? Do you have any idea how helpless that feeling is? Then you feel guilty and ashamed when judgmental eyes look at your $50 tattoo and tell you that THAT is the reason you and your children deserve to suffer. You feel like you need to justify the $10 Goodwill Coach purse you carry because others see it and believe you’re exaggerating your circumstance. You’re either lying, or deserve it.

The rich want to believe that the poor are poor because they deserve it. Because if they acknowledged what it really is, they also have to admit that they’re okay with thriving while others are unfairly suffering. And that makes them uncomfortable. So it’s easier to just blame.

I am poor. My kids play sports, go to a private school, have new clothes and shoes at the beginning of the school year, and none of it was provided by me. Because I have people in my life that saw the value of my children and said, “I want to help”. My eyes swell up with tears when I think about what I would do if I didn’t have kind people in my life. Because I know you’re out there. All you that are suffering without a support system. I want to help you so bad. I want somebody to help you. I feel your pain, I feel your anxiety. I am so sorry we live in a country where you are demonized and told you deserve to suffer. You do not deserve to suffer. Your kids do not deserve to suffer. You deserve so mich better than this.

Why are the poor poor? If you are not poor, you need to be okay with being uncomfortable and do something. You need to stop blaming and start asking how you can help. Perpetual poverty happens when you can’t afford the necessities. Do you feel the Necessities in life a privilege or a right? Do you believe that someone’s financial circumstance equates their worth? Your complacency is hurting people.

The Freedom of Being Stuck

Growing up, there were two types of vacations. Going to some sort of amusement park, such as Cedar Point, Disney, or Six Flags, or the family road trip. Most times, it was the family road trip. There was always someone getting married, graduating, or we just hadn’t been to visit in a long time. I absolutely LOVED a fun filled, constant stimulating, amusement park type vacation. To me, THAT was what a vacation should be.

Then, my dad remarried when I was 15. My step mom’s family had a small place on the lake in Ludington, MI. I love the lake, and I love fishing. So I was pretty excited about this. So we all packed up on a hot July day, and headed to spend the week as a family. It was by far, the most uncomfortable vacation that I ever had. Not uncomfortable because of our new family, we all got along quite well. Uncomfortable because I didn’t know what to do. There was nothing planned. We literally were just stuck there. I was going out of my mind with boredom. I fished, went to the beach, took walks and found that I did everything there was to do in the first day we were there. For a teenager, this was TORTURE.

So, I picked up the book I brought, put my bikini on, and sat outside and read the whole thing. Then proceeded to read all the books my sisters brought as well. When was there going to be something fun to do?? Then it hit me, I’m stuck here, so I mine as well enjoy it. I started noticing the sounds, smells, and beauty all over. My hyper, over stimulated self left, and a new relaxed Beth took over. It ended up being one of the best vacations I’ve ever had. I felt recharged and peaceful. After that, I looked forward to our Ludington trips. I knew it was a week that there was no phone, no computer, no schedule. It was just quiet, slow paced peace.

I’m going to jump to another topic now. Have you ever lost or broke your phone? It’s the WORST. It makes you feel lost, helpless, and disconnected. And to all those, “How did we ever l survive without phones? Back in my day…” people, I get it. I remember only having a house phone. I didn’t have a phone as teenager either. But the reality is, a cell phone is a NEED for me. My job, my kids, and yes, (don’t downplay the importance of) my social outlet. Losing/breaking your phone can make your life come to holt.

This has happened to me MANY times. Usually, it would mean I would be without a phone for 1-3 days. My response is usually the same. Anger, frustration, and sadness, which I definitely share with anyone that will listen to me. Then, like with my trip to Ludington, I have a moment where I realize I am stuck. It’s not going to get here any faster because I’m pissed off about it. So I just go with it.

There is a certain amount of freedom in not having a phone. Instead of reading my FB news feed, I would read a book. Instead of playing a phone game, I would play a board game. Once I accepted there wasn’t constant stimulation, I enjoyed all the other things I never had time for before.

This last week I wanted to leave. My kids were gone, and I wanted to take a trip sonewhere…anywhere. It didn’t happen. I spent the first half of my vacation helping my mom after surgery, and the second half, I am now stuck at home. I cried, threw an adult version of a temper tantrum, and finally came to accept that you know what, I can’t change it. Now that I’ve let go of the expectation of what my vacation week was supposed to look like, I can enjoy it.

After 30 years on this planet, you think that I would be able to have this realization a little quicker. But you know what? It’s hard to let go of what we think we need or want and take life, with all it’s obstacles, and decide to enjoy an alternative. We all know to “make the best” of any situation, but sometimes it takes being stuck with no way out to finally be able to have peace with the fact that we don’t have control. Maybe other’s don’t need to be completely cornered in life to finally slow themselves down, but I do. I want to do everything. I want to go everywhere. I want to constantly be on the go and be around people.

I honestly believe that I NEED to be alone with nothing and no one to be preparing for. No to-do list or itinerary. Nothing to take up my thoughts or time. No plans made, and no expectations. Now I can work on my personal stuff I always put off. I can let my mind wander and my creativity progress uninterrupted. I am free, if only for a few days. I need to appreciate that.