Tag: millennials

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.

Hi. I am Beth. And I’m a toxic person.

One of my favorite things that social media and technology has brought to my generation is its ability to help us cope, understand, and process dysfunction and toxicity that is in our lives. I see it all the time. People in my age group properly able to identify unhealthy behavior in themselves and in others. That doesn’t mean they necessarily know how to deal with it, but they can identify it. Which is a huge step.

A few weeks back I had a friend say to me, “I feel like I’m gaslighting them! I didn’t even realize I was doing it. They deserve better than that.” My friend was 100% serious and concerned about it. The self awareness this person has in their 30s is astounding to me. They are toxic. They know they are. And they are able to zero in on exactly what they are doing that is dysfunctional, and even tell me why they think they are like this. 

I am a toxic person. I have the potential to suck out all the life of a person. I can manipulate. I can read people and very quickly know what they are insecure about. I can sense vulnerability and dysfunction like a freaking superpower. I can also tell when a person is emotionally healthy. I can feel boundaries that are set (or not set) almost immediately after meeting someone. My comfort zone is filled with toxic interactions and unhealthy behaviors. 

I sound like a gem, eh? Well, I think I am. Not because that stuff doesn’t matter. Because I fight that stuff EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. Ask anyone who knew me in my 20s. Talk to my exes. I was not a bad person. But I was broken. The adult I was trying to be was not one on a healthy path. It was one who used white lies, cheated, and manipulated to get my way. I didn’t want to be like that. I did not like seeing the ones I loved hurt by me. 

I started seeing a therapist. I started making a conscious effort. I had to learn how to purge the toxicity from my interactions. It sucked. It was hard. No…not was. It is hard. I find when I’m with other people working on themselves, or people that are emotionally stable, it is easy. I can relax and just be. But the moment someone with dysfunction enters my life, I want to retreat to my ever so toxic comfort zone. I can feel it. I can hear it in what I say. I leave feeling angry at myself. Ashamed. 

I like to cut people in their 20s some slack. That decade is such a shit hole anyways. Add in having to process through childhood/adolescence and you’re left with some pretty lost adults who are trying to sort through 2 decades of preparation for adulthood. It’s exhausting and can be overwhelming. But once you’re in your 30s, get your shit together. You have had over a decade of making your own choices. At this point, your life is what you have made it. Acknowledge what you’ve been through and grow. 

I am a toxic person. I have to know this always. I have to understand and be compassionate to those who distance themselves from me. I have to work 10x as hard to make sure I keep my toxicity from my children. I need to make sure my children find dysfunction uncomfortable and wrong. I have to make sure I guard myself from others who take me by the hand and try to lead me down to that place I’ve escaped from. I need to acknowledge what brought me to this point, but not dwell on it, blame does not add to my growth. I need to know that when I do slip up, I tell whoever I hurt I was wrong and they deserve better. 

If you are a toxic person, you are not a bad person. Every day, every interaction, you have a choice to do better, to be better. Find a therapist. (I know I know, therapist shopping is the WORST. But don’t settle for one that isn’t helping you.) Start working on rewiring yourself. Your life will be happier. Your relationships will be better. You will thrive. 

You’re Allowed to Make Mistakes Once You’re 30

I’m very pregnant right now. I have less than a week until my due date. So, pretty much everything I do and think about at this point is baby or birth related. So I decided I wanted to talk about a perception I had during this pregnancy.

My first daughter, like this current pregnancy, was unplanned. I touched on my choice to have her at 19 in http://wp.me/p4Wgjj-1S Well, little did I know that a few months after writing that blog, I would be facing that guillotine again. Only this time it was different. I was not 19, I was 30. And I wasn’t just starting my adulthood, I was well into it.

At 19, the thought of having a baby is scary. It’s life changing. But I knew I could do it. There was a certain amount of naivete that kept me positive and strong in my choice. At 30, that naivete was gone. I knew exactly what having a baby was going to be like. I knew how tired I would be. I knew everything I would have to give up. It was devastating.

I cried a lot. I can’t do this. I thought about abortion. If I just did it soon, it would be fine….no. I can’t do it. I knew I was just being a coward. I knew I would love the baby. I knew I would be a great mom for it. I knew a year from then I would not be able to live with myself and that choice. Adoption? I could find a family that needs a baby. I could just tell people I was a surrogate. Nope. I know myself too well. I know I am capable, and that I would regret it. So, begrudgingly, I accepted that I was going to have my 4th child.

Why was it so much harder this time? I am older, more stable, and already a mom. You would think a scared 19 year old would have more inner turmoil than a 30 year old. Then I started thinking about people. Their thoughts, their opinions, their advice. There it is. I didn’t want to go through that again. The judgement. The unsolicited advice. Being treated as if you’re walking around with a scarlet letter. I was too exhausted in life to have to deal with that again. Nineteen year old Beth had no problem telling people to fuck off, and just keep living. Thirty year old Beth was not nearly as willing to burn bridges, and cared a lot more for formed relationships.

People can be assholes. I’m guessing that my loud personality and blunt attitude makes people feel it’s ok to say things that they normally wouldn’t say to someone. Maybe they think I won’t care, that I have a thick skin. Whatever the reason, I have MANY times in life had people say hurtful, mean, and insulting things to me without feeling they were out of line.

So, I braced myself for the backlash. Mentally rehearsing what I would say when unkind and even rude words were spoken. Then I waited. Nothing. I waited some more. Still nothing. Every person I told I was pregnant to met me with excitement and encouragement. I was not prepared for that.

I started thinking about 19 year old Beth again. Why were people so harsh? I had people tell me I was selfish and wrong for having a baby. I was told I was ill equipped to be a mother and that it was a sin for me not to give the baby up. I had people go out of their way to make sure I KNEW they refused to go to my baby shower because they didn’t agree with my choice. Then, after she was born, I had nasty looks. People questioned EVERYTHING I did. I had a nurse grab my daughter out of my arms while rolling her eyes at me and making comment about, “young moms”.

This bothers me more now than it did 12 years ago. While going through it, I just pushed through, raised my child, and didn’t give these people a second thought. I didn’t realize how much that really stuck with me. I didn’t know, years later, I would be in the same circumstance and the thought of that hardship would make me consider giving my baby up.

Why do we do this to young adults? We punish them for choosing differently. Not just with babies. With all life choices. We sit there passing judgment and withholding empathy and kindness for what? To teach them a lesson? Here’s the thing folks, I already decided at 19 to have the baby. I was trying so hard to take responsibility for a choice and do what I felt was best. The best lesson you can teach a young adult in that situation is kindness. I didn’t expect anyone to take on the responsibility for me. Just kindness. Instead, I was taught that people are assholes and will make your life harder when you don’t do things their way. Then, years later, that lesson came back to me like a wave of panic.

We have to stop doing this. You don’t like the current generation? Get over it. You don’t agree with how they’re learning adulthood? That’s too bad for you. There is a difference between being kind and enabling someone. You don’t want to enable them? Ok. Then tell me, if that 20 year old was 30, would you still respond the same way? If you’re purposely being harsher to a young adult because “they need to learn”, then you are an asshole. The lesson you are teaching them is that they are not allowed to make mistakes while learning to be a grown up. Which we all know is bullshit. That is the ONLY way we learn. Through experiencing life and finding solutions to problems we put ourselves in.

Our young adults should feel like they can come to us for advice, not judgement. They will learn and excel into the adult world so much quicker with support and trust than with harshness and abandonment. You want to complain about millennials, but offer no way for them recover and learn from their mistakes. So next time there is a 19 or 20 year old who fucked up in life, remember, you don’t have to tell them. They know. Just tell them they’ll be ok, offer positive insight, and realize that your response is helping form what kind of adult they’re going to be.