- I see something I want. It is not a necessity like clothing, food, or bus fare, and it is not a minor luxury like coffee or cigarettes.
- I think about how said item could make my life easier, and how nice it would be to have it. I convince myself that it falls into the category of "necessity."
- I express the desire for the item to Matt, framing it as something that will make my life easier and help me to be more productive.
- After some negotiation, Matt agrees to buy me the item.
- I enjoy the new thing I got, but I quickly succumb to guilt for manipulating my husband into spending money (using credit) to buy me something that I didn't really need.
- I convince myself that I acquired said item through manipulation, and thus, do not deserve it.
- My guilt is only allayed if the item is taken back to the store.
- Well, crap. I actually could have used that item after all, and now I miss it, and I want something to replace it, right now. A less-expensive version, something more practical.
- I don't get anything, and reason that I didn't deserve it anyway.
In this case, I think that the whole cascade of events happened when Matt got a new car. He got something shiny. Why can't I have something shiny? My original plan was to convince Matt to get me a netbook. A small, light computer that would allow me to write and chat and do everything I do on my laptop without breaking my back would be ideal. I've had one before. I sold it because I was poor and desperate for money. I miss it. Anyway. We went to the store, and ... this is the part that I'm still trying to figure out.
I had a very clear idea in my head about what I wanted. What I wanted, they did not have. We started looking at tablets instead. Matt has one that he likes very much. I got dazzled by all the bells and whistles, and Matt seemed willing to spend the extra money. So I went home with an Android tablet. And it was shiny and fun. And yet, it wasn't actually quite what I wanted to begin with. The tablet and its case cost almost $500. I was looking for something more like a $200 netbook. And the tablet, as awesome as it was, lacked a comfortable keyboard. Writing is the most important thing I do! So it was shiny, and it had a lot of awesome features, but it couldn't do the very simplest thing I originally needed a device for. What I don't get is how I went from $200 netbook to $500 tablet. Maybe it was the desire for instant gratification, which, I admit is very strong. However - and I hate saying this- I actually feel that Matt was nudging me in the direction of the tablet based on some stuff that I had said before, and perhaps based on his usage of his own tablet. And he was the one with the money. So I got a tablet. I'm not saying I don't feel I had a say in it, nor am I saying that I wasn't starry-eyed when I saw the pen tool and the art programs on the tablet- but I'm still not quite sure what happened in that exchange.
What I do know is that I should have put my foot down. I should have treated this purchase as if it was money out of my own pocket. "No. A tablet is not what I need, and it's more expensive. I want a netbook. They don't have them here. Let's wait." That was my own fault, and I own up to it. If they'd had what I was looking for, we would have walked out the door with it, and I probably wouldn't be writing this entry.
There are reasons I feel a netbook would be good for me. First of all, my full-size laptop is very heavy (comparatively), and it hurts my back to walk a mile or more with it to get to where I need to go. Second, the outer casing is cracked, and the more I move it around, the worse the damage gets. I really, really, really like this computer, and it's only about a year old. I don't want anything to happen to it. Third, I can carry a netbook around with me everywhere. I can sit down and write if I am in a situation that causes anxiety. That sounds weird, but it works. And I can't really do that on my phone.
I don't need a tablet. I've never needed a tablet. We even had to buy a special keyboard to make the thing usable for what I wanted it for. What the hell was I thinking? I still don't get what happened. And I still feel guilty for conning Matt out of $500 when we needed it for other things (even though it was on an established line of credit.) And I still want a goddamn netbook, like, right now.
So... yeah. There's one more thing I need to talk about. My apparent ability to get whatever I want, whenever I want, without even trying. I think it started when I was a little kid. I would go to my great grandmother's house. She had many pretty things. Figurines and jewellery boxes and dolls. I would say something was pretty, or I liked it, and she would give it to me to take home. Then, later, she would tell me that I "wangled it out of her." But really, when I had said "That's pretty!" that's all I'd meant. I started to learn that all I needed to do to get what I wanted was to compliment whatever it was. It was a really weird dynamic, especially since I was later berated for doing it.
Is that what was happening? Am I manipulating Matt all the time? Did he misconstrue my admiration of the tablet and its capabilities as "I want that" instead of "That's cool, but I still want a netbook"? Was I misreading Matt's eagerness? I mean, there was a moment there when I almost felt I was going to disappoint him if I didn't get the tablet. I mean... wait, what? And then, understandably, he was angry when I suggested we get a netbook to replace the tablet right away. Well, I guess I'd be frustrated too, but there's that "instant gratification" childish bullshit coming back again.
Matt is worried that I feel that I don't deserve nice things, so he tries to give me nice things. I am worried that Matt is overcompensating for the bullshit I grew up with. This combination is leading to all kinds of miscommunications, guilt and regret. I feel it can be stopped by careful planning. When I want something that would make my life easier but is not an immediate, dire need, I need to research exactly what it is I want. If it's a computer, for instance, I need a model number and a price and a vendor. (This was Matt's suggestion.) We talk about it. We discuss whether we can cover the cost. We buy it. We don't take it back to the store a week later because I feel guilty, and it wasn't really what I needed to begin with.
This entire thing has exhausted me emotionally, caused another anxiety event, and made me feel like a failure for not having my own money. And I still want a goddamn netbook.
Your grandmother set you up. What a shitty thing to do. You were knocked into a ditch by a combination of events--shiny, wanting to please your husband, wanting your husband to know you're grateful and appreciative, thinking you don't "deserve" anything, so you'll make do with what you're offered, especially since it costs more--
ReplyDeleteGah. Once your power out of that ditch (Exhausting in itself)all the reasons you "shouldn't" have fallen into the ditch in the first place start biting with sharp pointy teeth. There's no way to refute them, because you've already spent all your energy climbing out of the ditch, so you end up falling into another--even deeper ditch. So it goes. Gah. Horrible.
Some financial autonomy is extremely important for feeling and acting like a responsible adult. You don't have any/enough. It doesn't mean there's something wrong with you, it means that this is an unhealthy thing about your environment.
I really know how you feel. It's confusing and conflicting and a kick in the guts in so many ways--
How I got personally got off that crazy train (both when I've supported by someone else, and when someone else supported me) is set aside a specific amount of money each week as "I/You can do whatever I want with this, and I/You don't have to ask for permission.
The amount should be accrued weekly, and whatever is a reasonable for the budget. It should always be cash, or a cash amount held in a checking account. No credit. Ever.
If I want an expensive item, but don't want to feel like I've manipulated or guilted or otherwise scammed someone into buying it for me, I can save for it. If I feel the "need" is great enough that I deserve to have it without spending my "luxury" money, I can ask for it, and explain why.
I don't allow myself any "impulse" purchases over my "luxury money" amount, and I don't buy things on credit unless they really are "must haves."
This is very strict financial accountability, but--because it's predefined and I don't have to think about it--it stops the emotional chain saw dead in it's tracks for me.
Other things that might help are creating a joint budget (if you haven't already) and having the responsibility to pay at least some of the bills, if you're up to that.
YMMV, but know that you're not alone, you're not "wrong," there is more than one way to "fix" the situation, and doing so will peel a layer off the anxiety onion. (((you)))