“If someone does the small-dollar Venmo, it means they don’t feel good,” Bradley says.
So many thoughts after reading this article.
The first is a former partner. We both grew up in families with more than most. She always wanted to make sure we shared all costs (shared Ubers, dinners, etc). I was of the mindset that we each cover things case by case. I’ll get this one, you get the next one; it’ll more or less balance out. If it feels like I’m disproportionately covering more than my share, I’ll let you know. She couldn’t think that way.
Further: she’d never had a job and was about to earn her doctorate in psychology. She would later counsel people who would inevitably bring money concerns to her with no experience in any job other than being a fucking doctor. What the eff, I thought. I’ve worked in a factory, in a restaurant, in retail… Sure, I also later worked at one of the FAANG companies as an engineer and currently work supporting a VIP at a huge agency. But I’ve been broke and desperate at times even if I could call upon family if things were so bad that I couldn’t manage. Most aren’t so lucky. How would she ever have any perspective?
Finally, I don’t let anyone know my monetary status. Sure, you can figure out that I’m doing ok by the new but modest car that I drive, the apartment I rent, or my home theatre system. But I continue to think of myself as a commoner because I don’t have the sort of wealth that lets me purchase favors like the truly wealthy can and do. I live comfortably, not in luxury. I can’t imagine being so well off that I couldn’t spare a few bucks for a friend without keeping track.
I think the statement that I quoted above probably rings true, but there’s likely a lot more to it. I think it represents a sense of guilt over having more than others and internally recognizing that it’s unfair but not having the ability to square it.
So many thoughts after reading this article.
The first is a former partner. We both grew up in families with more than most. She always wanted to make sure we shared all costs (shared Ubers, dinners, etc). I was of the mindset that we each cover things case by case. I’ll get this one, you get the next one; it’ll more or less balance out. If it feels like I’m disproportionately covering more than my share, I’ll let you know. She couldn’t think that way.
Further: she’d never had a job and was about to earn her doctorate in psychology. She would later counsel people who would inevitably bring money concerns to her with no experience in any job other than being a fucking doctor. What the eff, I thought. I’ve worked in a factory, in a restaurant, in retail… Sure, I also later worked at one of the FAANG companies as an engineer and currently work supporting a VIP at a huge agency. But I’ve been broke and desperate at times even if I could call upon family if things were so bad that I couldn’t manage. Most aren’t so lucky. How would she ever have any perspective?
Finally, I don’t let anyone know my monetary status. Sure, you can figure out that I’m doing ok by the new but modest car that I drive, the apartment I rent, or my home theatre system. But I continue to think of myself as a commoner because I don’t have the sort of wealth that lets me purchase favors like the truly wealthy can and do. I live comfortably, not in luxury. I can’t imagine being so well off that I couldn’t spare a few bucks for a friend without keeping track.
I think the statement that I quoted above probably rings true, but there’s likely a lot more to it. I think it represents a sense of guilt over having more than others and internally recognizing that it’s unfair but not having the ability to square it.