Rationally, I know my finances are solid.
Conveniently, I’m not a big consumer.
In fact, I open my wallet as few times a day as possible.
I wait for sales.
I rely on invitations to friends' country clubs and weekend homes for getaways.
But even I questioned my tightfistedness when my younger daughter was diagnosed with attention deficit disorder.
Her teacher called me in to school to discuss what it meant.
I should have been thinking, “Poor kid!
I’ll do whatever it takes to help her.”
Instead, I found myself inwardly groaning, “Oh, great.
How much isthisgoing to cost?”
My priorities were obviously messed up.
Clearly, something had to be done.
Many people often associate those behaviors with shame.
That would be a concern."
But share I will.
My latest money woe?
Prices have dropped, but they haven’t fallen Far Enough (a close cousin of Never Enough).
Unlike those necessities, I considered a huge TV to be a shameful indulgence.
“You mean besides the world coming to an end?”
“Talk to it about buying the TV, then write down what you both say.”
That night, I threw my twenties onto the bed and started chatting.
“Why aren’t there more of you?”
“Why aren’t you hundreds?”
What kind of selfish monster am I?
“Maybe you should warm up to pleasure spending by simply doing it,” Mellan suggested.
“Flex those muscles.
Jot down how you feel about each purchase, which should help loosen the stranglehold.”
Who’d pay full retail for a $200 sheet?!
(2) New glasses and everyday china from Fishs Eddy.
They were on saleglasses for $2.
Dinner plates, four for $8.
Full retail: $20 a plate.
Imagine breaking a $20 plate.
I shudder even thinking about it.
(3) New skirts at Old Navy.
Cuter than the ones at my corner boutique at one third the price.
Stupid to spend more for the label.
If anything, the stranglehold was getting tighter.
“If you become aware of your internal script, you’re free to rewrite it.”
His approach reminded me of standard-issue psychotherapy.
I’ve had some practice there, so I dug right in.
After some relaxed sitting and unraveling, I hit on the reason for my stinginess: my parents.
Just like real therapy!)
I was raised on tales of their one-room apartment and the love that kept them going.
Yet another script emerged: Deprivation was romantic!
I could see an overspender making the same connection between buying and romance.
I’m constantly looking for the romance in my life.
But I never expected to find myself in a hot clench with my cash.
“Let yourself see the inappropriateness of your money scripts,” Kahler had told me.
I began to see that romance should be expansive, indulgent.
Linking love and passion to economy suddenly seemed so wrong.
So, well, cheap.
“Awareness is the goal.
Once you’re aware, it’s possible for you to change,” Kahler reassured me.
I reflected on my revelation for a week.
Then, armed with awareness, I marched into P.C.
Richard, prepared to buy a plasma TV.
I would spend to enrich my life.
Full retail: $3,999.
“Excellent choice,” he said.
“But I have to tell you.
We’re getting new models in a month.
I’m sure the price will come down at least $500 if you could stand to wait.”
Didn’t I want to kill my cheapness with one fell purchase, sale or no sale?
Wasn’t that worth $500?
I made my decision, thanked the salesman and left empty-handed.
I may no longer be cheap.
But I’m not crazy, either.
Photo Credit: Plamen Petkov
