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| One Christmas, I ran out of money. Instead of coming clean, I felt ashamed | One Christmas, I ran out of money. Instead of coming clean, I felt ashamed |
| (21 days later) | |
| Tue 26 Dec 2017 09.00 GMT | |
| Last modified on Tue 26 Dec 2017 09.02 GMT | |
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| It had been a difficult year, a year in which I had never had any money. Rather than live outside my means, I had chosen to reduce my living expenses. I cycled everywhere and took a packed lunch when I needed to be out of the house for longer than a few hours. When, years ago, I’d first started having no money, making these kinds of changes felt humiliating. By the time that particular Christmas had come around, I had fully embraced dancing to the beat of my own drum. | It had been a difficult year, a year in which I had never had any money. Rather than live outside my means, I had chosen to reduce my living expenses. I cycled everywhere and took a packed lunch when I needed to be out of the house for longer than a few hours. When, years ago, I’d first started having no money, making these kinds of changes felt humiliating. By the time that particular Christmas had come around, I had fully embraced dancing to the beat of my own drum. |
| There was something particularly difficult about that year, though. External pressures, like visits to my partner’s family, and other suddenly scheduled social events meant that I couldn’t retreat into introversion (the tactic that had my saved previous skint Christmases). Being such an intense time of reunion, I knew that my absence from such gatherings would leave an uncomfortable hole. | There was something particularly difficult about that year, though. External pressures, like visits to my partner’s family, and other suddenly scheduled social events meant that I couldn’t retreat into introversion (the tactic that had my saved previous skint Christmases). Being such an intense time of reunion, I knew that my absence from such gatherings would leave an uncomfortable hole. |
| I decided to compromise, and go to family Christmas things, but limit socialising with colleagues, because I couldn’t deal with the social pressures that came with such outings. I remember an acquaintance posting a Facebook status admonishing people who quibble over the bill at social events such as restaurant meals, and our mutuals crowded around to click “like”. I wondered if this was an unspoken consequence of social mobility I was experiencing – forever wondering how everyone else affords to live. | I decided to compromise, and go to family Christmas things, but limit socialising with colleagues, because I couldn’t deal with the social pressures that came with such outings. I remember an acquaintance posting a Facebook status admonishing people who quibble over the bill at social events such as restaurant meals, and our mutuals crowded around to click “like”. I wondered if this was an unspoken consequence of social mobility I was experiencing – forever wondering how everyone else affords to live. |
| It seems we rarely ask our friends and loved ones how much they can realistically afford at this time of year. Everyone has money at Christmas, or at least they pretend they do. That year, my lean living was thrown into sharp relief. The conspicuous consumption around Christmas was everywhere, and the weight of expectation felt out of control. I didn’t have the courage to suggest a Secret Santa or say “I don’t have the money for that” so, regrettably, I went quiet on good friends. My insecurities meant I was scared that they’d think less of me – looking back I can see I was doing them a disservice by cutting them off. | It seems we rarely ask our friends and loved ones how much they can realistically afford at this time of year. Everyone has money at Christmas, or at least they pretend they do. That year, my lean living was thrown into sharp relief. The conspicuous consumption around Christmas was everywhere, and the weight of expectation felt out of control. I didn’t have the courage to suggest a Secret Santa or say “I don’t have the money for that” so, regrettably, I went quiet on good friends. My insecurities meant I was scared that they’d think less of me – looking back I can see I was doing them a disservice by cutting them off. |
| I hesitated at the thought of writing this column, worried it might come across as 'poverty porn' | I hesitated at the thought of writing this column, worried it might come across as 'poverty porn' |
| No matter how many platitudes we hear about giving and being surrounded by your loved ones mattering more than anything else, spending big seems like such a huge part of this time of year. We shop and we give, hoarding food that can’t be touched until Christmas Day. Some of us give to charity because we feel some guilt about our Christmas spending (I should know, having done exactly that this year). | No matter how many platitudes we hear about giving and being surrounded by your loved ones mattering more than anything else, spending big seems like such a huge part of this time of year. We shop and we give, hoarding food that can’t be touched until Christmas Day. Some of us give to charity because we feel some guilt about our Christmas spending (I should know, having done exactly that this year). |
| But not having any money to spare that Christmas taught me to be resourceful. I convinced myself that I was domesticity’s answer to Bear Grylls. I had everything I needed. The household was my terrain, and my task was to create whatever I could with whatever I could find. Christmas cards were made with the ancient art of potato printing. The potato was old and the card was found at the bottom of a drawer. Wrapping paper was made with the same method, using cheap brown paper usually reserved for wrapping up eBay sales. The paint was white emulsion, from a small sample pot. Wrapped up with brown string, my parcels all looked very Pinterest. The presents themselves were cakes and cookies, secured in Tupperware and baked with whatever dry goods I could find in my cupboard. | But not having any money to spare that Christmas taught me to be resourceful. I convinced myself that I was domesticity’s answer to Bear Grylls. I had everything I needed. The household was my terrain, and my task was to create whatever I could with whatever I could find. Christmas cards were made with the ancient art of potato printing. The potato was old and the card was found at the bottom of a drawer. Wrapping paper was made with the same method, using cheap brown paper usually reserved for wrapping up eBay sales. The paint was white emulsion, from a small sample pot. Wrapped up with brown string, my parcels all looked very Pinterest. The presents themselves were cakes and cookies, secured in Tupperware and baked with whatever dry goods I could find in my cupboard. |
| Christmas dinner was more of a challenge. I had left it far too late to start growing my own food. Luckily, I’m a vegetarian, and Lidl were doing bags of vegetables for 19p each. Christmas dinner cost a little over £1. | Christmas dinner was more of a challenge. I had left it far too late to start growing my own food. Luckily, I’m a vegetarian, and Lidl were doing bags of vegetables for 19p each. Christmas dinner cost a little over £1. |
| I hesitated at the thought of writing this column, worried it might come across as “poverty porn”. But I hadn’t eschewed my riches in order to experience a week of hardship so I could feel grateful about what I had the rest of the time. This was simply a Christmas when I truly had no money at all for anything that December demands. | I hesitated at the thought of writing this column, worried it might come across as “poverty porn”. But I hadn’t eschewed my riches in order to experience a week of hardship so I could feel grateful about what I had the rest of the time. This was simply a Christmas when I truly had no money at all for anything that December demands. |
| I did, however, have food, shelter, and just about enough to cover the rent, bills and debts. And the heating went on that day. That Christmas wasn’t the result of some kind of dramatic financial crisis. It was a typical month for me, because at the time I was one the 14 million people living in income poverty in Britain. | I did, however, have food, shelter, and just about enough to cover the rent, bills and debts. And the heating went on that day. That Christmas wasn’t the result of some kind of dramatic financial crisis. It was a typical month for me, because at the time I was one the 14 million people living in income poverty in Britain. |
| I think about that Christmas now that I can afford to put the heating on when I feel like it. The penny pinching and resourcefulness that I discovered have now become indelible parts of my personality. So, too, has a lesson that I’ll think about for the rest of my life: being honest about money would have probably made that Christmas easier. | I think about that Christmas now that I can afford to put the heating on when I feel like it. The penny pinching and resourcefulness that I discovered have now become indelible parts of my personality. So, too, has a lesson that I’ll think about for the rest of my life: being honest about money would have probably made that Christmas easier. |
| • Reni Eddo-Lodge is a journalist and author | • Reni Eddo-Lodge is a journalist and author |
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