My eldest daughter recently caught me off guard with a tricky question. It wasn’t about sex, relationships or her future career, but about money. Or to be more precise, my money and how much of it I had.
Like all young people approaching university, her question was probably inspired mainly by her concern that I will be able to help support her financially during her degree. But I suspect it was also driven by curiosity. I pondered how best to answer her.
If I answered it outright, how would it affect her? Would she be more or less motivated to work hard at university? Would she be more or less careful about her spending? How would it affect her relationship with me? Would she tell her friends, inevitably ensuring that their parents knew my financial position? Would those parents be pleased, envious or sorry for me? Why should I care?
I could, of course, have chosen not to answer her. But I asked myself whether this might become a cause of tension, distrust or contention between us. It might make it easier — or harder — to involve her in my finances when she is older. Is my financial position any of my daughter’s business anyway?
Many people find it hard to talk about money. This is understandable, because we relate to money on an emotional, not rational, level. Because our money thoughts and feelings are influenced by our emotions, this can lead us to procrastinate or make poor decisions. For some people, money defines their feelings of self-worth, social status and sense of achievement. Others see money as a force for good, while others see it as a necessary evil. Money can be a source of pleasure or pain.