My wife and I got married at 21. We went to college. Had a small apartment. I worked overnight at a gas station and she worked at a retailer in the mall. Our rent was $500 a month USD. And we almost never had the cash when rent was due so we always had late fees. The power got cut off consistently. We couldn’t afford cell phones. Our college was paid for entirely by student loans because we couldn’t afford it otherwise.

It was embarrassing. Dehumanizing in a lot of ways. We bought old books that many times didn’t even have the material we needed for our courses and our grades suffered. We both did poorly.

Both our families were poor and would offer help if we asked but we rarely did since they didn’t really have much either.

After we graduated we both went to grad school. It was a little bit better because we both had graduate assistant jobs. So we each had two jobs and things were a little less lean. Until the car broke down. That set us back.

After grad school my wife got a job as a university instructor. I got a job working in marketing. Things were better for a little while. Until my wife got sick. Turns out she has an autoimmune disease that is rare and difficult to manage. We didn’t know that for a while.

Nightly trips to the emergency room. Doctor visits. Specialists. MRIs. CAT scans. Blood tests. More specialists. Oncologists. “You might have brain cancer.”

That was a decade ago.

It was so hard. Every single day we were just trying to make it to the next day in one piece. We moved to a new house that didn’t smell like urine because we could afford it. Until she just couldn’t work anymore.

Our rent was $700 a month. We were trying to build savings. Our $2500 a month student loans and stacks of medical bills made it hard. We ate cheap food but we ate. Our phones only got cut off sometimes. I got a job offer in Europe. We were going to take it. Until her dad got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.

We stayed. He died. She had a short term mental break down. The engine in our car blew up. $4000. The flooding started. We went to sleep every night hearing rats in our walls. Our dog died. Our cat died. We couldn’t do anything about it. We wanted to give up. Every second of every day was a struggle. Until I got a new job.

My base salary is $165,000 usd. I get 20% performance bonuses. I have amazing health insurance for both of us. I have a vibrant and rapidly growing retirement account. We moved from the south east to the north east.

My wife has good doctors now. A whole fucking medical team. She’s doing good. More good days than bad days. And the bad days aren’t as bad. And the seizures have stopped. And she doesn’t wake up screaming. We toasted fucking marshmallows on our porch last night and we go on hikes and visit antique stores and see nice things we like and sometimes we even get greedy and buy something just because we can.

We’re rich now. We buy food we like. We have savings. We have investments. We bought a new car and paid it off. The old car had to be towed away when we moved and the scrap yard guy gave us $200 for it.

Every single time we see a couch on the side of the road. Every single time we see a help wanted ad. And every single time we spend a dime. We both get anxious. Maybe not. Maybe next time. Maybe I need to call them. Maybe what if but what do we do if how why when we shouldn’t.

I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it. And it’s not something I’d wish on anyone. And we weren’t even that poor. We never were homeless. We came close some times.

Being poor is awful. And its effects last a long time event after you think you made it out. Our credit is shit. We’re fixing it but it’s a slow process. We can barely get qualified for any type of loan. Home ownership is out of the question for a few more years. And I’m glad the car is paid off. That’s one less monthly bill.