Rediscovering My Soul within a Recession

Eight months ago, I bought my first Jaguar. It was a good day. I remember the proud feeling of knowing that my partner and I had worked hard to earn it. We had always been very careful to put our family’s needs first, to build up our safety net, and to make rational decisions. And we had finally reached a point in our lives where we could be a little frivolous and not have to stress out about it afterward.

A month later, IT happened – I was laid off. No warning, no compensation package, no clue what to do next. To make matters worse, we received our son’s autism diagnosis the same day. I wondered how on earth we would cover all of the services he would need without health coverage. Yet, we pushed on. We put the children on my partner’s health insurance plan. Luckily, the company she worked with offered domestic partner health benefits. We started eating healthier, cheaper, home-cooked meals – after all, I had all of the time in the world to cook. And I stopped shopping for unnecessary things. We were living tightly, and it was frustrating at times. But we were making it. After buckling down, we realized that we could live on less, and I really enjoyed being able to spend time with our children. The time I had available to give to my children was well worth the financial burden. Looking back, we were all miserable when I was working. The two hour commute to and from work, the after school programs the kids were stuck in, the late dinners I had to throw together, and the lack of time we had together were exhausting realities. I was relieved to escape those things. We adjusted, and life went on.

Then IT happened again. A few weeks ago, my partner was laid off. It definitely hit us hard when I was no longer employed, but the impact of my partner losing her job was nothing short of a kick to the face. Or at least, that’s how it felt at first. I cried, I stressed, and I went into survival mode. We had a yard sale. We created a realistic budget. We cut luxuries that once seemed like necessities. But amidst the long hours of combing through finances, submitting resumes, and deciding what to sell next, I found something invaluable – my soul.

It seems I lost it somewhere along the way while "providing the best” for my family. I thought that “providing the best” meant the best Montessori preschool money could buy, the best car I could afford, a house in the best homeowners association located within close vicinity to the best rated schools. While I must admit that school ratings are and always will be very important to us, the rest, I have discovered, is not quite as important as I once thought it was.

I have discovered much over these past few weeks, like how fun it is to play board games with the kids in the evenings – much more enjoyable than shoveling out $50 to see a movie together, which is not much of a bonding activity, considering that we can’t see or speak to each other during a movie. Our family has rediscovered the library. I’m amazed by how many activities take place at the city library, and my partner and I have a newfound love for classic movies (also available for free at the library). I’ve started clipping coupons and enjoyed a free macchiato this morning. We even discovered that a local family arcade has half-priced game days once a week. We’ve started walking to the park instead of driving and are finally enjoying many of the amenities we have been paying our HOA for but not using. We are spending more time together than we have ever had the opportunity to before, and while this is a stressful time, this is time that we have together.

I’ve learned more in this short time of struggle than I have in years of excelling at work. I’ve learned that we do not have to spend money to have fun and that the most meaningful activities are usually free. I have learned that there are caring people in this world, like our son’s amazing speech pathologist, who will help you if you can put aside your pride and be honest with them. I have reconnected with my family. I’ve learned to put my pride aside and to let close friends and family members know that we are not perfect – and that’s okay. They love me even when I cannot show up bearing gifts, and I think they actually appreciate not having to listen to us ramble on about our careers and how well life is treating us. I’ve learned that we were a little “uppity” as my mother so tactfully (insert sarcasm here) put it. And when this is but a short chapter in the story of our lives, when this stressful time is behind us, I will remember this. I will remember that those who love us will love us irregardless of what we do or do not accomplish, that money does not buy happiness, that children want our time more than anything else, and that some things in life are worth small sacrifices.