I’m terrible with money.
I don’t save, I don’t have a pension, and I’ve only taken out a few insurance policies in my life – none of which are in place now. I’m aware that I’m flying out here alone, with very little security. I’ve sold my house to pay off debt and have had to start from scratch again. I also spend. I am your most generous friend. I will take care of everyone and everything around me – often to my own detriment. I always have. I believe that if you’re mean with money, you’re mean in spirit.
I’ve never relied on anyone for money. Ever.
That’s not to say I haven’t needed help. When my world fell in on me and I went bankrupt, my sister and her husband came to my rescue with a loan. But I’m self made. I’ve only ever had one man truly meet me where I am in life, and thankfully, I’m about to marry him.
Growing up was a double-edged sword. Until I was about nine years old, we had money of sorts. I come from a creative family. My father was a photographer and my mother worked a variety of jobs, alongside her work as a model and actress. She’s naturally creative too, but she ran the house and, I suspect, the budget.
