When I see a coin on the ground, I can’t help but pick it up.
“Every penny’s a lucky penny” my grandma used to tell us.
With that etched into my soul from early on, I’ve never understood how people walk past perfectly good money.
Is their piggy bank not hungry? Do they not know how small things can add up? Did they never play a video game where collecting coins was the whole point?
Shy as I was as a child, scanning the ground for riches became a way to avoid eye contact. It’s also likely contributed to the fact that I never know where the hell I’m going.
I love to feed my piggy bank at the end of each day. Occasionally I’d shake it like a child in an old timey movie; feeling the metallic slosh of my found treasure.
I’m forever finding forgotten change in the dryer. Anytime I do, I feel lucky all over again.
What do I do when the bank is full, something which happens about every 2 or 3 years? I have a tradition.
I take the change to the bank, then buy myself something I’ve really been wanting.
It got me a pair of purple Timberlands once; I still wear them.
My partner recently learned about my piggy bank day and we counted out about $157.
The only problem is, I don’t really want anything.
Groceries? A new windshield for my car?
Boring. Not the point.
I asked what he wanted to do with the money. He insisted it was mine to do with whatever I please (we love a non-financially abusive king.)
I’ve only been in the position where I felt like I had to dip into the bank for an emergency once. It was shortly after escaping my abuse when I’d moved across the country and had trouble finding a job right away. I needed it to pay down my credit card balance, which was getting unnervingly high.
This will be the first time since then that the piggy bank is full, and I want to celebrate how far I’ve come. I still struggle financially, but I’ve come a long way from the financial insecurity I felt a couple of years ago.
I finally feel on somewhat stable ground. I recognize this is a privileged position to be in.
More than likely, I’ll end up putting it toward travel, or maybe an experience. We were invited to a bunch of weddings out of town this year.
What would you do in my shoes if you were forced to spend it on something fun?
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For all of our birthdays and Christmasses growing up, we got a check for $25. Only it wasn’t a check; it was a savings bond.
Each year, our grandparents explained to us what it was and that it meant money put away for us until we were 18.
Too young understanding what investing was or how money could grow, we always took it to mean that there would only be a couple hundred dollars in those accounts.
After years of thoughtful, slightly-disappointing-to-a-kid gifts, we were finally given access to the funds.
We were blown away to discover that our dull presents had grown into several thousand dollars each.
Our grandparents told us to use the money on a big life goal: education, marriage, a home.
That money was what allowed me to feel financially safe enough to flee my abuser.
Even after years of financial abuse, that money gave me the privileged ability to escape.
After years gaining expertise in mental health, criminal justice, and trauma, I want to invest what I’ve learned in my audience so they can have the resources when they need them.