It’s never too early to make the plans that will make your long-held dreams come true
Growing up a child of divorced parents (yes, we’re starting there), mixed messages were par for the course. My father oscillated between Catholicism and Atheism; my mother is a devout Evangelical.
My father would discuss crude sex acts with my older brother in front of me (barf), thinking I didn’t understand; my mother would tell me sex was really nice (double barf) but only after marriage.
My father would let me know that I and my siblings were extremely expensive (all that pocket money funnelled into Mxit Moola); my mother would shield me from the realities of how much I cost to maintain (bless her heart).
My father would tell me to study hard so that I wouldn’t end up as a cashier at Checkers; my mother told me God had a plan for my life.
I wasn’t taught about budgeting, tracking expenses or saving. I was just told to do well enough at school, so that I would one day have money. School + hard work = money. The end.
They did have some consistent messaging, though: DEBT IS REALLY BAD and DON’T GET INTO IT.
When I started university, my parents devised a plan to impart some financial skills.
Suddenly, I had to create and manage my own budget (2-minute noodles had their own subsection, of course), keep receipts for my purchases and report back to my parents (eek! How do I explain this R80 hole in my report where condoms were acquired?).
After a year of this, they figured I more-or-less knew what I was doing and let me get on with it (either that, or the cringe factor was untenable for them as well).
I also started to get tax-free bursaries paid directly to the university and residence, so my adulting was kept to a minimum. Doing well at school was essential if I wanted to keep myself fed, housed and clothed.
Like most high-achieving middle-class 20-somethings, I became obsessed with my work. Doing well at school became the most important thing to me.
I was riding all kinds of highs – getting scholarships, traveling overseas to do research and presenting at international conferences.
When I wasn’t working, I was either sleeping or practicing escapism (read: finding a suitably unsuitable person with whom to spend a lot of personal time).
There was no time in this lifestyle for boring but important things like going to the dentist, renewing my driver’s license, or financial planning. Sensible shoes and self care? Ridiculous!
When I emerged from school earlier this year, PhD in hand, I had one of those “Was I high this entire time?” moments.
I realised I was 27 with no savings, no idea of how to even begin saving, and no retirement fund.
I had never filled out a tax return, because the bursaries I had been living on are tax exempt.
I hadn’t been on medical aid in years, because I could not be bothered to do the admin and because, let’s face it, in your 20s you think you’re invincible.
I had to figure out adulthood, and fast. Time was ticking and the miracle of compound interest waits for no one.
One thing I had going for me was no debt, not even a Mr Price account, because the taxpayer funded me (thanks guys!) and because I internalised the warning from my parents (thank you, love you).
I realised there was going to be no one to swoop in and help me with this stuff. It was really a case of me needing to be brutally honest with myself, and getting to work.
I managed to pull myself towards myself and in the last few months I have learned some important things about adulting, which I would like to share:
- Guilt is not useful, and stops us from dealing with difficult, essential things. I felt bad about not having looked after myself properly during my PhD, and those feelings made me want to continue wallpapering over the gaping hole where my adulting should be. It took a lot of work to push through the guilt and yank my head out of the sand to have a sober look at my finances.
- No-one is going to do this for you, but good advice is out there. I started with a copy of Sam Beckbessinger’s ‘Manage Your Money Like a F*#cking Grown-Up’ (the title spoke to me, for some reason). This book gives you strategies for making your money work for you, with your own needs, responsibilities, goals and passions. It taught me that money is a tool. We associate so much baggage with it, but actually, it is just something to help us get what we want from life.
- The difficult thing is figuring out what kind of life you want. Still buffering on that one, but there is no reason to not get started somewhere. I’ve started budgeting, tracking my expenses, and saving towards an emergency fund. I use 22seven to keep an eye on things, and it feels good to start the month by saving a chunk of my income and ending the month saving any surplus. I am super debt-averse. I don’t spend money frivolously. I wear stuff until it’s falling apart (thick thighs save lives but damn, do they wreck the inside seams of jeans). I’ve gotten myself on medical aid (can talk about how stupidly confusing medical aid options are ad infinitum). I’m doing it! I’m adulting!
Next on my agenda is figuring out a retirement plan. The wife and I enlisted the help of a financial advisor for this, and for figuring out what to do with our individual savings.
Feeling like a team with my partner and investing in ourselves and our future has felt good, and brought us closer as a couple. Those numbers look cute in my savings account, but I know they’ll look even cuter making money babies in an investment account.
I am not sure what I want in the next few years, but I know that somewhere after 65 I want a small piece of land, with a few chickens, a big goat and a baby goat.
I want to have a craft room, well-stocked with sewing supplies.
I want to have lots of nice tea to offer our very interesting friends when they visit.
I want to look over at my wife, give her a naughty smile, and shoo our grandkids away well into our 90s. The next few years will be about making sure we set ourselves up to make this a reality.
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