I come from one of those families that have a traditionally safe approach when it comes to money. That means, we don't really spend it. My father and mother seem to be constatnly afraid of the unexpected. "You never know," they say, as if the universe were ready to jump at our throats at any second. We might fall sick, the car might break... there is always something to worry about, some unforeseen circumstance that might ruin our lives if we don't have the bucks to deal with it when (if) it comes.
Due to that perspective, we've always had less than we could have. We live in a quite regular house, we don't have the fanciest smartphones out there, and our clothes are cheap and comfortable. We buy them at department stores, and wear them for quite some time, only discarding what is beyond repair. I've never seen any problems in doing that, although I do believe people like us should learn to enjoy their own money a little better. It's okay to spend a little more sometimes. But if you don't want to, you have the right to do as you please.
Apparently, there are people who do not think the same way as I do. After being invited to a certain party, I was very excited! My friends would all be there but, as I heard them talk, I grew a bit worried. They were discussing their outfits and makeup as if their lives depended on it. That was a side of them that I knew existed, but had never seen in so fierce an action before. I was finally asked what I was going to wear, only to reply I didn't know. As they began to share photos of their new dresses and stylish shoes, I had had enough. It was time to buy something cool for myself.
I had my own money - allowance plus summer job - so I didn't have to convince dad or mom to give me any. That would have been an Odyssey on its own. However, as I chose the coolest store I had seen in town, I had the most revealing experience of my life so far, worthy of a Pretty Woman moment. At first, I was simply ignored by the two saleswomen available. They were not much older than me, regular looking except for that smugness that comes with the wrong kind of self-confidence. When they realized I actually intended to buy something - after all, I was touching fabrics, taking dresses down from hangers to press them against my body and check how I looked in a mirror -, they exchanged a glance and walked toward me. Now, I don't recall the precise dialog that took place, but I remember being asked if I was sure I had enough money to buy from them. I had my mouth gaping for a couple of seconds. I said I did and, being braver than I ever though I was, asked why. One of them crossed her arms and gave me a head-to-toe stare while the other smiled condescendingly.
I did not buy anything at that store, of course. I left, indignant, convinced that they didn't deserve my precious money. I wish I could say I went on a shopping spree just to go back and play a Julia-Roberts-I-told-you-I-had-the-money on them. I did not do that either. I contented myself with the thought that they would lose several opportunities in life to learn something interesting or to meet someone nice because of their prejudice. As for me, I went to that party and had the best time of my life. Some other store profited from my purchase, and I kept my values and dignity intact.
Note: Feel free to change anything. Since I don't know any details about your life, I chose to write something that could be relatable to all sorts people. If you've had a deeper experience than the one described, don't hesitate to adapt the essay.
