Month: August 2017

Erasing History

~ gaslightgirl

 

I understand that there are parts of our history that are uncomfortable. Slavery. The treatment of Native Americans. Our participation in wars. Japanese encampments. I could make a long long list if I really tried. But, just like the history of our nation is not perfect, neither are any of us. I could make an equally long long list of my various imperfections. Pretty sure anyone reading this could do the same.

As I was considering this recent movement to get rid of Confederate monuments, remove Indian names from school buildings, and all of the other “politically correct” BS that keeps being force-fed to us, I can’t help but wonder….what things are we doing today that our grandchildren and their descendants would be aghast about?

My friend and I were talking this weekend about our dads who were heavy heavy smokers, and who smoked all around us as kids. Our children, the grandchildren of these men, have grown up with the knowledge of the health hazards of tobacco smoke. I hearken back to the countless trips in the car, sans seat belt…or worse, flying 60 miles an hour down a dusty ditch bank in the back of my dad’s truck…or the story of the “playpen” that I rode around the car in as a baby – the playpen strapped in, me loose in the middle of the damn thing. Our kids? They have been harnessed into our vehicles since day one and will never know any different.

So I ask you this, should we disavow our parents for such transgressions? For gods sake! How many died? What kind of toxins were we exposed to?

Jesus, I never wore a bicycle helmet and neither did any of my friends. Pretty sure our parents should be locked up. We should ban them from our lives now and forever! How dare they be cold-hearted and expose us to such harm!

Sounds ridiculous, right? After all…they didn’t know any better about the seat belts or the cigarettes or the bicycle helmets. You see…they learned. And what did they do with that learning? They taught us to do it differently, to not do it like they did.

Or, we learned and passed along a different kind of life to our children in the face of that new knowledge.

So what the hell are we doing to our children, now?

If we are going to tear down the Confederate statues, then someone needs to come here and burn down the Grant House here in my hometown. After all, General Ulysses S. Grant was a Union soldier. And do you know what one of the things the Union soldiers did? They poisoned wells. Water that was life giving to people, plants, and animals. Ostensibly to poison Confederate soldiers…but guess what….that poison killed children, too. Like the Lotz children in Franklin, Tennessee.

Pretty sure you didn’t know about that, right? So if Ulysses S. Grant sanctioned that kind of activity, why aren’t we burning down his house here in Vancouver WA?

If we are going to erase all of the “bad stuff” in our Nation’s history, then how in the hell are our children going to learn from it? How are they going to know how to do better?

We are already raising a scary generation of children who have been told they are perfect, so we should make sure they live in a perfect Nation as well, right?

Wrong.

We can do better. We must do better.

 

The Grant House, Vancouver Washington

On Being a Rich Asshole

~ gaslightgirl ~ 1 Comment

My name is Tiffany. I live in a beautiful home with a substantial amount of square footage. Our home is surrounded by beautiful acreage. My mortgage is large but we live well within our means and so, it does not kill us to pay it each month.

And I am wholly and utterly embarrassed by it all.

To the point where I have a hard time inviting friends and even our own family over to enjoy it. And when they do come over, I cringe when Rusty gives them the “grand tour.”

Just a few weeks ago, one of the moms was dropping off her kid at our house and asked how many square feet we had.

I lied.

She said they were thinking of moving and purchasing a home on acreage with room for horses. She wanted to know what we spent on our place.

I lied about that, too.

(I could rationalize here, that it was just a small white lie and I wasn’t too far off…or that it wasn’t her business anyway…but that would be another lie I told myself to feel better.)

You see, I didn’t want this nice woman to feel bad. I didn’t want her to feel “less than”.

But more importantly, I didn’t want her to think we were ‘rich assholes’.

Because, you know: rich = asshole.

I can think of a few other beliefs I’ve likely held about “rich people” at some juncture in my life:

  • Rich = Snob
  • Rich = Entitled
  • Rich = Not part of the “real world”
  • Rich = Rich Kids Don’t Learn to Earn (Silver Spoon Syndrome)

In other words, if you were a rich person, you were a jerk and you likely didn’t appreciate what you had.

Here’s the problem I’m having:

I’ve come to accept that I am likely one of “them”, now. Only, when I look in the mirror, I don’t see entitled, or snobbish, or a bitch.

I am kind. I am giving. I am a loyal friend. I’m a good hot, sexy, wife to my husband. And a loving mom who puts her kids to work and finds joy when they find self-esteem from their own endeavors, not through what we give them.

I give thanks every day for what I have.

I am definitely not an asshole.

#WHOA

Here’s another truth:  I know other rich people!  And guess what? Most of them aren’t assholes, either!!!!

#MINDBLOWN

So why do I even write about this? To rub it in your face? To make you feel less than?

Nope.

To prove that money doesn’t bring you happiness?

Nope.

To prove that rich people aren’t assholes?

No, it’s not that, either.

It’s because we all have limiting beliefs about ourselves {I’m not good enough, I’m not pretty enough, I’m not lovable}.

And we all have limiting beliefs about money {we don’t have enough, how will we retire, we will never have a nice house or a nice car, what will people think if they knew we had all this money}. A lot of that includes putting people in “categories” based on what they have or what they don’t {rich people are jerks; poor people are stupid}.

You know, stereotypical stereotyping.

What if we just stopped all of that?

What if we were just kinder to each other…and more importantly, kinder to ourselves?

What if we dispelled the taboo money topics and found ways to support each other in order to have even more of it in our life?!

I get it. It feels selfish. It feels like we’re tempting fate. It feels like if we ask for more we don’t actually appreciate what we have. It feels like we would be turning into assholes.

#bullshitalert

Obviously, I still have work of my own to do. I have a big limiting belief that I need to let go of:

“What will people think of me if I live in this big fancy house?”

The real truth is, that I will still be still am Tiffany. I will be am the girl who worked in the cotton fields and later worked her way through college. I will be am the girl who felt lost in her early career, like I would never “make it”. I will be am the girl who started a business just to pay the bills at home and never once dreamed I’d be an employer whose business was supporting three other families.  I will still be am also the girl who has had the experience of setting all the bills out on the table and figuring out which ones to pay and which ones to push off for another month.

And not only will I be am I the girl who never forgets where she came from, I will be the girl who helps others find their way, too.

And money will not be a taboo subject when it comes to this journey we’re all on.

I have a new belief:

My name is Tiffany. I live in a big, beautiful home that I can’t wait to love to share with my family and friends. Our home is the place where our kids bring their friends. Where our friends become family. Where our family finds peace and solace. Where we eat, drink, and laugh – making priceless lifetime memories.

Post-Script ~

Before you think I’m crazy, go pick up Jen Sincero’s new book: “YOU are a BADASS at MAKING MONEY.”

Pick up a pen, a highlighter, and a journal while you’re at it. Go home and don’t just read it. Do yourself a favor and absorb every word, do the exercises in each chapter, and envision how you want money to show up in your life.

You can buy me a drink thank me later!