“Congratulations on your graduation, Andrea, now you’re off the payroll,” my father declared not so jokingly on the outside steps of the Milwaukee Convention Center Marquette University.
I barely had time to take off my cap and gown before they dropped me off in Chicago so I could start my vacation first job next week at an advertising agency.
My parents generously paid most of my tuition. When I was 22, I was grateful to have only a modest amount of money left over student loan balance. But I didn’t think he was completely serious. They would definitely help me if I ever got into financial trouble.
I was convinced I would never need it anyway. I was steadfast in my desire to succeed. Plus, my parents gave my brothers and me a masterclass on work ethic. Between my father’s career in global supply chain and my mother’s years as a Catholic school teacher, they modeled how a responsible adult operates.
We took affordable holidays to go for a walk or visit my grandparents. Eating out was a rare treat, usually at a local restaurant where they knew the owners.
Although they were great financial role models, I still made some mistakes.
I overpaid myself financially just three months into college
One day my roommate dropped the mail on our dilapidated coffee table while I was lounging on the couch after work. I ate take-out sushi that I couldn’t afford. I knew my starting salary wasn’t high at $27,500, but that’s what young professionals in my industry were making in 2001.
The author, who stood outside her first apartment after graduating, made a number of financial blunders early on. Thanks to Andrea Javor.
I didn’t have a car and took advantage of work perks, like packing half my meal to eat for dinner after a business lunch. I spent money mostly on what I considered the essentials: booze, weekend cigarettes, eating out, lipstick, and tops to wear to the bars.
I opened the credit card statementscanned it and immediately panicked. Right there, in stark black and white, an unmistakable ledger stared back at me. I owed over $900 (the equivalent of $1,700 today), which felt like much, much more at the time.
I asked my parents to save me from debt
I wrote down my actual expenses and realized I didn’t even have an extra dollar to spend on the monthly payment my credit card now demanded.
My roommate agreed that my only logical course of action was to do so begging for a rescue operation. She turned me on with a shot of tequila and a slap on the butt before I closed my bedroom door and called my parents. I thought they would be angry and help me anyway.
“Daddy, I need money,” I begged on the phone. I imagined him on the landline in Cleveland, trying to enjoy a quiet dinner with my mother.
He replied without emotion, “I’m going to give you the greatest favor of your life.”
“What?” I waited anxiously for his response, thinking he would send a check or wire some money.
I heard him exhale, and then he hung up.
Shocked, I called back and my mother answered. She confirmed that the connection was not lost. She said firmly, “I’m staying with your father,” and then hung up.
I probably called back six times before I thought they had disconnected the phone. I crouched on the floor in my bedroom, amid a bright pink going-out shirt and crumpled boxes of Marlboro Lights, and realized I was all alone putting away my clothes. money mess.
It took a year of compromise to get back to zero debt
It was an ongoing struggle, but I diligently made choices to get out of the red.
I invested in a cheap coffee maker and threw away my morning latte. I stretched my hairstyle for another two months and rubbed olive oil on my split ends.
When my friends wanted to go out, I became the queen of pre-game and convinced them that we could drink cheaply at home and take the train or walk instead of a taxi. When we went, I drank a $4 draft beer all night and kicked my smoking habit (at least partially).
In the meantime, I took on more projects at work and was eventually promoted with a salary increase.
The credit card debt had interest accruing every month, but I continued to pay it off until I received a final statement confirming the zero balance.
The hidden wealth was in the lessons I learned
I realized that I hated the environmental anxiety that comes with spending beyond my means.
My parents’ firm stance forced me to realize that I had the ingenuity to survive my own bad decisions. Knowing that there was no safety net beneath my bad choices motivated me to ultimately earn the lifestyle I wanted.
When my friends today talk about protecting their own school-aged children from this harsh reality, I tell them: let them struggle. Then hang up the phone.
That dial tone contained the best financial advice I’ve ever received.
