The cost of living crisis has brought about a financial reckoning for everyone. And the impact of that is felt in all kinds of ways.
I’ve never been frivolous when it comes to money matters. Sure, there were times during my university years where I happily spent weeks living on pasta and pesto so that I could spend my money on more important things, such as splurging in Topshop. (RIP to the in-person stores and my 10% student discount). But I’ve never lived beyond my means. I’ve never gotten into debt. I’ve always been acutely aware of what I’m spending and where the money is going. I have no doubt that this sensibility comes from growing up in a working class household.
The financial stakes are higher when you come from a working class background. Every purchase, even the smallest of expenditures, makes an impact. From a young age, I have understood the value of money and the hard work that goes into getting it. I’ve also always known the difference between “want” and “need.” And while I’ve admittedly conflated the two from time-to-time, my financial consciousness has always prevailed. However, as I’ve gotten older, my hyper-awareness of finances has often translated into me feeling guilty about spending any money on myself. Even when I can easily afford it, and should feel no shame in parting with some cash, I tend to feel uncomfortable when it comes to treating myself. I can happily buy gifts for others, but something as simple as upgrading my own phone leads to a myriad of questions whizzing around in my head. Do I need this? And if not, why am I buying it? Should I really be spending this money on myself? Do I deserve it?
I’ve always been someone who has felt compelled to earn my wins. When I do spend money on myself, I often give myself a goal to complete first. I’ll buy myself that leather jacket after I’ve met all my deadlines or I’ll book that weekend away if, and only if, I ace my presentation. This has always been how I’ve operated, but I’m even tougher on myself nowadays. The cost of living crisis has upgraded my long-experienced twinges of guilt over spending to all-consuming pangs of remorse. It’s hardly surprising, as every day we’re bombarded with unavoidable reminders about the state of the economy and how much more expensive it is to simply exist. Interestingly, my recent conversations with friends and colleagues tell me that I’m not alone in feeling this way. Everything from buying a cup of coffee every day before work to budgeting for a holiday has prompted concerns, and far more discussion than it once did. The truth is, given the current climate, we’re all facing some kind of financial reckoning, whether we realise it or not. Interestingly, although the cost of the economic crisis is, of course, far higher for some, women feeling guilty over money often transcends financial borders.
There’s a scene in Crazy Rich Asians which has stayed with me, whereby we witness Gemma Chan’s character Astrid hiding her newly-purchased luxury goods from her husband, lest he feel financially emasculated. Astrid has great generational wealth, and can easily afford the trinkets from Dior and Jimmy Choo, yet she experiences guilt nonetheless and instructs her maids to stash the items away before her partner returns home. Yes, this is a fictional scenario, but it’s rooted in the realness of women experiencing guilt. We feel intrinsically guilty about a variety of things.