One of the best things I thought “adulting” would offer, growing up, was the sense of
independence; having your own money, spending it on whatever, not having to be asked where it
went or what it was spent on and having to defend your expenditure is what I thought I would
live for. Only being accountable to me? Oh Yaaas bring it on!
So here I am at twenty one. I have just walked into a store. Five thousand is the budget and I
have a shopping list at hand; every item with its estimated amount. I am organized like that (let’s
have a quick laugh at this, haha). Anyway, I am one of these people who have read Arese
Ugwu’s Smart Money Woman, Darren Hardy’s the compound effect, Robert Kiyosaki’s Rich
dad Poor dad, David Bach’s Smart women finish rich (name them) and I am currently
implementing the lessons (I think), so let’s say I can navigate my way through a store with only
five thousand at hand and ready to spend not a shilling more.
I have learnt to do the boring bit of the shopping (groceries and everything kitchen) first, so that I
spend what usually seems like an eternity at the skin and beauty products shelves; yes I am a
Tina typical, I do love to glow. I grab a cart and begin my fifth favorite adventure. You should
see me during the first bit of shopping, I have this way of “grab-and-drop in cart” that usually
signifies I’m in a hurry, which is never the case because it’s all planned for. I only occasionally
stop to check the expiry date and briefly compare prices. Otherwise, I’m taking these short rapid
steps like my shoes are too tight.
And then, I begin to walk unusually slowly. The moment the light waves from anything that can
go into my bathroom or dresser hit my iris, it’s like I’m someone under hypnosis in one of those
Brain games episodes. I enter a stupor of sorts. In this section, ingredients to every product are
carefully scrutinized and googled even. From the sanitary towels to tooth paste, from hair gel to
nail polish, everything. It’s only proper for me to let you know that this is where my austerity
meets a roadblock. Hold up, roadblock is a huge understatement. It always appears like there is a
never-ending colorless screen from ground to sky that only lets me through and not my primitive
austerity. It never occurs to me that it’s left behind until I’m back home withering in regret. Once
I unconsciously walk through this screen, my eyes don’t glance back even for a moment, the next
time I’ll see the list is never. My face is buckled and I go in a downward spiral; spending more
than intended because I cannot resist the urge to try new products regardless of how I get the
Take 4987693625, once again I’m the fork.
The thing about being an adult is you think, if it’s up to you, you got this. And you’re always
reminded that it is up to and you don’t got it even when you think you do. You can make rules,
you can build boards, write them in big bold reds and you can make them as stringent but this is
a process of invention and reinvention that never ever stops. Personally, I have never wanted to
intentionally make mistakes my peers have made so I strive for prevention. Sometimes I win and
other times… well let’s say I fall short because fail or lose isn’t vocabulary I allow near my
Mastering money I think is something you learn and learn and practice until you get better at it
because I think you can never be outstanding at it.
When I get home I will call my mom, I will
ask for lessons, though I already know what she’ll tell me; it’s a shame, but restraint isn’t a
joyous and mellow ride.
I think I liked it better when everything was managed but I have to grow up.