When talking about turning down opportunities on the Tim Ferris podcast, Seth Godin explained that “Money is a story. Once you have enough for beans and rice, and taking care of your family, and a few other things, money is a story. And, you can tell yourself any story you want about money. But its better to tell yourself a story about money that you can happily live with.”
Interestingly, this quote closely mirrors Bonnie‘s comment to me, after telling her about an incident I had recently with a pharmacist. Bonnie asked me what story did the pharmacist’s behavior tell me about myself?
So here’s the incident in question: I was going to pick up a prescription for Maria, and through some *fun* insurance mix-up, they didn’t have Maria’s current insurance. The cash price of the prescription was $14.99. The pharmacist explained the insurance situation, I confirmed that the price was $15, and said it would be fine. The pharmacist innocently asked me, “Are you sure?” I politely affirmed that I was, but internally I was ENRAGED. How dare he ask me a second time?? What, do I look like $15 is a hardship? Sure, I drive a ten-year old car, and I was probably several days unshaven and in a t-shirt. But we are talking about $15, not $1500! Am I not MAN enough to provide for my wife’s medical needs??
Does my response seem disproportionate to you? Fortunately, it did to me too.
I’ve really been chewing on why the pharmacist’s confirmation of my willingness to pay cash for a prescription, rather than bill the insurance, enraged me so much. Do I believe the pharmacist was concerned that I couldn’t afford it? No. I don’t honestly think it would have mattered whether I was driving a Bentley, smiling through gold teeth, and smoking $100 bills, I think he would have asked anyway (quite a mental image though!).
But here’s what I’ve come to understand about my view of money: being able to spend money seemingly carelessly means you are successful.
That makes total sense, right? I mean, success equals carefree money?
Yeah, no.
So in my mind, when the pharmacist confirmed my willingness to pay for the prescription, what I really heard was him questioning my success in life, as a provider, as a man.
I have an unhealthy relationship with money. When my family has margin in our cash flow, I am at ease. As soon as things tighten up any, as they invariably do with three beautifully accident and illness prone children, I get crazy tense. I begin to refuse to buy simple things I actually need, like aftershave. Seriously, right now, I need to buy some aftershave and won’t, because it seems superfluous. But I’d rather sacrifice the very skin of my face, than spend the money!
The rat hole goes much deeper than this, as I’ve come to understand. Turns out I would rather forgo buying things I need, to protect whatever little cash we happen to have on hand, so that I don’t have to say to Maria or anyone that we can’t afford something. What is really important to me is that I appear to be successful in front of others, and the only way I know to communicate that is by always being able to spend money when called upon. I’m talking about things like going to the movies as a group, impromptu trips to see family members, etc. I don’t mean truly extravagant things. The whole thing is nuts!
Let me stop and say that I make plenty of money, and I know that my family is well provided for. Ironically, what matters is not how big or small the number I report on my taxes as income, because only Maria and I (and some unknown number of bureaucrats in the IRS!) ever see that. But my self-confidence rides the balance in our checking account like a stock trader rides the indexes.
There’s no happy ending here for me, at this point. This post is simply the ripping off of the emotional scab that has hidden the wound and the underlying truth, knowing that now it can begin to heal properly.
If you find yourself in a similar boat, fighting with money regardless of your actual income, take heart! Your value, as a person, is NOT based on how much money you can spend at the drop of a hat. Nor is your worth based on how much money you bring home, how many toys you have, or how big your house is. Neither is mine. We both have to learn to accept the truth of that.