Day 30: Fucked Off With Being Poor

30

of 120

120 Days to Christmas

Fucked Off With Being Poor

Not angry, just done playing by rules that were never going to work.

Get a degree. Get a stable job. Keep your head down, save a bit each month, and one day you'll be comfortable. Bless the advice, it was well meant. It also feels a bit like being handed a map to a place that stopped existing a while ago.

Playing it safe by the old rules just gets you a very stable version of not quite enough.

So here's my genuinely upbeat take on being fed up, sometimes fed up is just the universe's way of nudging you toward the fun bit, building something that's actually yours.

THE OLD RULES

Built for a world that's moved on without telling anyone

A job for life, a pension that covers you, wages that keep up with everything else, none of that quite lines up with today the way it used to. Doesn't mean the people who gave you that advice were wrong, just that the world quietly changed the goalposts and forgot to send everyone the memo.

INHERITED VS BUILT

Different starting points, different playbooks

Some people start further up the ladder, purely by luck of birth, and that's just how it goes, no shade intended. The point is simply this, if you didn't inherit a leg up, copying advice built for people who did was always going to be like following someone else's satnav to your own house. You need your own route.

THE ACTUAL FUN PART

Build the thing that's yours

A job trades your hours for someone else's ceiling. Building your own thing, a brand, a business, a skill nobody can take off you, is genuinely the more exciting route anyway. Harder, sure. Not guaranteed, sure. But it's yours, start to finish, and there's something rather brilliant about that.

So if you're a bit fed up with advice that was never built for your situation, good. That's not negativity, that's clarity. Channel it into building something new instead. Much more fun than staying quietly annoyed about it.

90 days left. Halfway there. Let's build something that's actually ours.

Love, Vikki