My Money Story – Part I – A Prologue To The Preamble

To have a beginning, you must have an ending of sorts.  And where my money story begins, was the death of ignorance and the dawning of a realization – nothing in this world is free, and everything has its price. 

The more I have been reflecting on my finances and life, questioning the trajectory of my reality as the sagely rock climber dissects his path up the looming granite face, I’ve decided to start a new section on the blog called “My Money Story”, in which I analyze my past and try to understand the psychology of where my money decisions originated from. 

Today I’m going all the way back to the very beginning, that first time I can remember… a prologue to the preamble that followed so to speak.  It is an event that shaped the initial arc of my fiscal restraint and the irony is, the lesson really didn’t have anything to do with money at all.  As with so many learnings in life, they tend not be isolated events, but rather bleed into the fulcrum of our very existence like ink on a page.

I’ll preface that I don’t have very many childhood memories to rely on.  Although my age is not particularly old in the grand scheme of things, having a drug addled brain the damage has been done.  But this one particular memory has stayed with me, regardless of the self-destructive miles trodden. 

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The year was somewhere around 1985.  I was 3-4 years old and my mom had taken me to the grocery store.  I’m not sure where my sister was but I remember distinctly it being just her and I. 

After being zoomed around the towering market aisles while sitting in the top of the grocery cart, we eventually reached the checkout stand and my mother put me down alone for a few minutes.  And like any other young child would do, I did my little toddler shuffle over to the brightly colored and enticing candy boxes. 

With all those alluring sweets to choose from, my eyes were quickly drawn to a lower shelf that contained small rectangular clear containers of vivid orange Tic Tacs.  I can’t remember what I was thinking at the time, maybe I had asked my mom to buy them and she said no, but regardless, I somehow concluded that I needed them. 

In a split-second decision, I reached out my tiny hand and put them in my pocket.  I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care.  I was excited probably… I was about to get some new tasty candy. 

Who would know?  Why can’t I take them? 

I was too young to grasp the full consequences of my actions, but I also want to be clear – this was not a parenting lapse.  I was raised well and knew right from wrong.  But for some reason my selfish side prevailed in the moment, and I gave into a seductive youthful greedy impulse. 

When we arrived home, I sauntered to the back of the kitchen while my mom was putting away the groceries and took out my stolen prized possession.  I carefully snapped back the lid, shook a few orange tic tacs into my empty palm and shoved them in my mouth.  Immediate bliss followed.  The taste was just how I imagined from the color; it was as if I bit into a freshly squeezed orange full of sugar.  I chewed away, lost in my reverie– 

“Where did you get those!” 

I froze. 

I didn’t seem to understand at first what was happening since I was still enjoying my newly purloined treats.  Slowly I turned my head and saw my mom standing there staring at me, with her hands on her hips and looking to blow her lid like a volcano erupting. 

“Where did you get those,” she blurted again.  “I didn’t buy them.”  Her second statement sounded more like a question to herself. 

The silence stretched out awkwardly and stood between us like a solid presence.  I couldn’t think of anything to say.  I had been caught red handed. 

“Did you take those,” she finally asked, less fire in her now, and more sadness. 

Slowly I nodded, still not summoning the courage to even speak a word. 

She didn’t say anything for a long time, only staring at me as if she was measuring me with her eyes.  I could see the disappointment reflecting back at me as if accusing… Why?  Why would you do this?  I didn’t raise you this way? 

“Get in the car.”  Her sudden words cut through the air like a knife.  “You’re going to bring those back, apologize and then pay for them.”  Then she turned and was gone. 

I’ll never forget the drive back to the market, how bad I felt.  Fending off the shame and embarrassment was like walking into a medieval torture chamber.  But it was my mother’s disappoint that stung the most – the breaking of a sacred trust.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt like that even to this day.  Knowing that I was absolutely wrong and would now have to face the consequences.  It was like I was a traitor, branded Judas in the flesh. 

We pulled up to the market, and I saw my fate made concrete through the window.  Drearily I followed my mother into the store, dragging my feet like a marked man headed to the gallows.  We patiently waited until the checker was done with a customer and then my mother asked to see the manager. The clerk made a call on their phone and then we waited. 

A few moments later the manager walked up to us and my mother explained what had happened.  I remember him nodding and being very gracious about the whole incident.  When she was done, she looked down at me.  The manager knelt so that we could be eye to eye, and I apologized for stealing his merchandise.  Then I handed back over the Tic Tacs and money to buy them.  He thanked me for my honesty and then we were done. 

But I felt terrible inside.  Because I wasn’t being honest.  I was being punished and forced to give the candy back and apologize.  I was not the better man here.  It was my mother.  Because if I had had it my way, I wouldn’t’ have come back and faced my mistake head on.  But I learned from it and I have my mother to thank.  I’ll never forget the shame and embarrassment of having to fess up to my crime and right that wrong. 

And this lesson taught me some of the most basic principles of life that I have always tried to follow. 

You do not steal.  You hold yourself accountable to an internal code of justice and fairness.  You do not take what is not yours and you pay your way to earn your keep.  Work hard, be honest, and you have nothing to fear. 

Although it has taken me a long time to realize it, this was the dawning moment that first shaped my financial behavior.  It resonated out from me like a ripple in water.  Yes, I was very young and the incident itself didn’t pertain to money, but it was about living life a certain way.  Hold yourself accountable for your actions and accept the consequences.  My mother had planted a seed, that would eventually root and grow into how I would see the world and myself within it.

You don’t take short cuts.  You do what is right.  You put in the time and work necessary to achieve your goal.  You save and invest, and the rest will follow with time. 

It was a beginning… 

-Q-FI 

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P.S.  What is the first memory you can remember that shaped your financial mindset today?