Freebird or jailbird?

{DISCLOSURE} This post is not sponsored. I pay for the service we use. We are currently on a journey to  live the life we want to live - My Budget are a huge part of this,  so I will be speaking about them as part of our story. The questions I ask and the things I discuss in this blog are my thoughts and feelings only.

When you think of your finances how do you feel?

Light... happy... at ease?

Or dark... despairing... chained down... anxious?

Are you a financial freebird... or a jailbird?

What does financial freedom mean to you?

One of the biggest things in my life and the shaping of how I feel about the everyday is the desire to be financially free.

I grew up with self employed parents who struggled and worked forever and a day with nothing to show for it.

I knew very early on in life that we couldn't afford much. I went without what everyone around me took for granted. And I knew if I wanted anything in life - a car, new clothes, petrol for my motorcycle - I had to work for it, and work hard.

At 15 I woke up to the blindly obvious fact that nothing short of a miracle was going to be able to pay for me to go to college or university after Year 12. It was a big thing for me to suddenly realise my dreams were never going to be anything but dreams. It was my undoing, and one of the biggest reasons I stepped away from school and started working before I had completed my leaving certificate. I really felt that every minute I spent striving and learning was going to be rewarded with nothing at the end. It was a hard lesson in how much money (or lack of it) can affect your life.

Since then I have never really felt free. I've always been a slave to the dollar - judging my worth by my pay packet and not what I do and give to others.

I've defined myself as a jailbird, and lived with chains around my ankles, always believing that what I wanted was out of my reach.

We started our journey with My Budget in March this year.

It was a long hard road up until the day I picked up the phone. I believed only a miracle could cure us of the debt and depression and being "poor". 

With two conflicting ideas of "budgeting" and a tendency to self sabotage our own efforts, we were never going to take that step towards freedom without help.

Three months in how do we feel?

Not free yet. That's going to take a while.

But definitely in control, which is the first step.

If a bill drops into my mailbox you will no longer find me sobbing in my driveway.

Progress... little baby steps. 

The end goal is financial freedom.

What does it mean for me?

It means the end of the never ending juggle. 

It means the incomings exceeding the outgoings. 

It means knowing that I can give my children what I so dearly wanted - opportunity.

It means having enough to enjoy life without excess. I don't need a holiday house in the Hamptons, but I want the freedom to say "let's go somewhere and explore this weekend" without it being a major logistical and budgeting nightmare.

But by far the biggest measure of financial freedom for me will be never ever having to ring up that damned Centrelink switchboard! I live for the day we are able to live without jumping through hoops.

In the meantime we are able to let the finances happen, and focus on being the best we can be, and living the life we want to live as a family.

With every beat of our wings, and every step on the journey we are shaking off the chains and turning our faces towards the wide open sky.

That's worth more than gold to me. 

 

Another Brave Step

I am not good socially.

But at the same time I am a natural show off. 

Give me a chance and I screw up that courage really tight and go for it.

Hard and fast and devil may care.

It's how I end up being the one that does that thing that no one else wants to do.

Part of me tries to hide in the corner but a bigger part of me jumps up and down and waves her hand in the air shouting "Me me pick meeeeeeee!"

When I volunteered last week to be part of my daycare centre's management committee it was the bouncy one talking.

But when I headed out tonight for an informal "Meet and Greet" the painfully shy bit of me was kicking my arse for making it go out in public and play social butterfly with no one to hang on to.

There was a moment of utter panic when I walked out with my wine glass in hand and realised "You have just arrived at a gathering where there are  zero people you know in a town you have been in for ten weeks and you are RUBBISH at making conversation".


Thankfully she was kicked to the curb by my insanely optimistic side who attempted to struggle the shy one to the ground while also standing up without looking awkward.


And I found out something really interesting - It didn't matter that I was rubbish at small talk because other people were quite good at it. I just had to follow along.


I even branched out far enough to realise there was a girl looking even more awkward than me and I (haltingly) managed to have a conversation with her and make her laugh.


My second piece of head slapping realisation was that in a situation like this I hold all the cards.


Because no-one knows who the hell I am.


And they all want to know who the new girl is. Especially if she's crazy enough to sign up for a job in the first few months here.


Meet and Greet dusted.


Bring on the dinner meeting (including taxi so I can indulge in a trifle more of the fabulous wine of this delightful region).

 Linked up with a bright and shiny IBOT over at Diary of a SAHM