I Wanna be a Rich Bitch
Hi, hello! I am Laura, and I love money.
For some reason, admitting this out loud has become akin to a crime, so I usually don’t bring it up in polite conversation. But I can see the power money brings: power to pay off the mortgage in my parents’ home, to make sure my dad doesn’t have to worry about income as he nears retirement age. Because when you have money, you can be as selfless with it as you want.
So yes, I want money. I want to swipe my credit card without worrying about the balance. I want to be able to afford to live in a safe neighborhood. I want to collect art, and donate to hospitals and create a scholarship for Latino college students who wouldn’t have obtained a higher education it, and make sure my artist friends are able to create without worrying, and make sure I can create without worrying, and…
Whoever said money makes people greedy or evil, is honestly just scared of the responsibility. Or hasn’t experience true poverty. The kind that makes you eat everything in your plate, whether you like it or not, whether it makes you so sick you’ll throw it all up later, because you just don’t know if you’ll have a meal for the rest of the day.
Now, I don’t have a lot of money--enough to live paycheck to paycheck, and have a little bit left over for a capuccino and brunch on Sunday. Enough to get a half decent wardrobe, and effective skincare products that make me look respectable, and a good haircut. But it is loads more than my family used to have, and when you grow up poor, you develop really strange habits.
My coworker makes fun of me because I hoard everything: I reuse dip containers and mason jars to store my meals, and cut scrap paper into small pieces so I can use them to take notes, and wrap my ruler (you know those super cheap ones that cost like, $0.50 if you buy them in bulk?) in its original plastic so it lasts longer. I laugh and chalk it up to one of those weird Colombian things. Truth is, I learned to hoard everything I own because I knew how much of a privilege it was to even be able to own things.
And I was one of the lucky ones: some people I used to know had to choose between which meal they’d eat that day; others had to choose between getting diapers for their kids and a bus ride to work. I have grown up around people who had nothing, and so I know what I prefer.
So yeah. I love money. I want it. I crave it. I put it out there into the Universe in the hopes I win the lottery, or get a raise. I always look for ideas to obtain extra income. Could I live with nothing? Of course; I am a minimalist at heart and if pressed I could give most of it up, so long as I have a small modicum of safety. But I refuse to ignore the fact that having money will give me freedom.
And I crave freedom more than anything in life.