The Lure of Money.

I grew up with very little money. We skimped to buy things, we had second hard clothes, we didn't have fancy holidays. I had dinner tickets and vouchers from the government for school clothes. I was envious of the children who had money, of the ones who lived in fancy old houses with big gardens, even envious of the ones whose parents were probably only on average incomes because to me as a child that seemed like a lot.

But I wasn't unhappy. I still did interesting things, and I got presents and we had fun and sometimes went on trips as a family. I didn't equate a lack of money with a lack of happiness, I just wished I lived in a nicer house and my Mum didn't have to get upset about bills and court orders, and charges from the bank.

Now I'm an adult I've seen both sides of the coin. For a brief period I've lived with money; not having to add up the shopping in the supermarket, not checking the price of things before you buy them, shopping in Waitrose. And I've lived through periods of extreme poverty; being thousands of pounds in debt, being on the dole with all the money gone and no access to any more, scrabbling in the bottom of handbags to cobble together enough change to buy a loaf of bread from the local corner shop.

Of course when I haven't got money I wish I had some, but I very rarely wish I had heaps. I don't dream of winning the lottery and having millions. I dream of being able to afford a little house in the country and some chickens.

I think my goals are realistic. And more importantly, I have have come to realise that I am very lucky to have, as a reference for normality, the feeling of living with a distinct lack of money.

What I have learned is that money is something that is nice to have, but one doesn't always have it.

The other side to that is to live with money. There are people I know who have grown up in very wealthy circumstances. The sorts of people whose fathers had top jobs and they lived in classy, elegant parts of London. There was not scrimping in their houses, and never doing without. They had lovely holidays and learnt how to ski and surf and travelled all over the world as part of their everyday existence. And of course as expected they went on to run succesful businesses and to continue to be the sorts of people who accumulate money.

But I have noticed something. I have noticed that sometimes that wealth is taken away from them; their businesses fail or they make some bad financial decisions and suddenly they find themselves at the bottom of the pile, struggling to find the cost of a pint of milk, borrowing from friends, having people bail them out.

And they can't handle it at all. The lack of money, for someone who has always had money and has never thought about it, becomes a huge impossible hurdle and they will do almost anthing to try and rectify the situation.

I have seen people move in with people they don't really like or take highly paid jobs that they utterly hate and that wear them out and wear them down. They convince themselves that this is the solution because the lure of money, the fear of being poor for them is so strong it overides everything else in their lives.

So they end up with money again. Given the choice between a highly paid job that doesn't suit them or a job with a tiny salary that would delight their heart they always chose the money. They choose to live with people who do not make them happy but who are rich, rather than having to count the pennies with someone who would probably end up thrilling them.

And I look at those choices they make and I feel really glad to have lived the way I have, to have wanted for things and to have known what it is like not to be able to afford washing powder and to have to use washing up liquid instead to wash my socks. Because now I have one thing that people who have grown up with wealth don't have and will never be able to get:

I have the the knowledge that is possible to lead a wonderful, full and happy life with very little money, because I have done so.

And it is.