It was my mother’s dying wish that I spend money on myself. Not my kids, not my husband, not the childcare or the car repairs or even the family vacation. Me.
She made her point with increasing urgency as her illness progressed. She was tired of seeing me dressed in clothes I’d bought on sale or second-hand. She felt my hair (uncoloured, unruly) was career-limiting. She knew that, like her, I didn’t mind splashing out on others, but agonized over treating myself to something special. If she had to die before she was ready, she wanted something good to come out of it — and so she made me promise I’d go shopping.
Now, using money my mom left me when she passed away last fall, I’m going to fulfil her wish. For the next year, I’m going to spend $1,000 a month on myself and see what happens — for good or for ill. Call it my own anti-austerity plan.
As I honour my mother’s wish — and write about it — I hope to start a conversation on how women feel about money, spending and self-worth.
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