The Cheap Friend

All my life, I've chosen quality over quantity in my friendships. Now, in my 40s, I have a wonderful group of fascinating and diverse people in my life. I revel in their differences. But despite all those differences, they share one thing in common: They all have or make more money than I do.

That's right: I'm the poor friend.

They all have homes or condos. They redo their kitchens and go on fabulous trips. One went to China last year, another went to Ireland last month, and still another is vacationing in the south of France next week. One friend's husband bought her a BMW for her birthday a few years ago.

I rent. Many of my furnishings are either really old (I've had the same bedroom dresser since I was 8 or 9) or secondhand. And when it comes to vacation planning, it's usually just a drive to visit my parents. (And let me tell you, that's no vacation.) My recent trip to the Cape was an extravagance, and it was doable only because I didn't have to pay for a hotel on top of airfare.

I don't mean to sound like I feel sorry for myself. I know that in the grand scheme of things, I'm doing OK. Indeed, I am blessed. My needs have always been met.

But sometimes when I'm around these friends, I feel "less than." It's nothing they say or do; they're all genuine and generous and kind. But as I've done since I was a kid, I compare myself to others only to find that I come up short. (This unfortunate trait comes into play with all sorts of things -- even hair! -- but as this is a debt blog, I'm focusing on its effect as far as my financial situation is concerned.)

This is how I ended up in debt in the first place -- this desire to fit in, to keep up with Joneses, as they say. I've spent a lot over the years in trying to look and live like my fab friends.

Now I'm paying for those past sins. And as a result, sometimes I'm forced to acknowledge -- mostly to myself but sometimes, awkwardly, to them -- that my circumstances are different, that I can't have the things they have or do the things they want to do. Instead, I have to be mindful of the budget.

Like when I'm shopping with them and I find something I love only to see the price tag and have to put it away. Or when we're eating out and I request separate checks to avoid having to split a bill I can't afford. I go from feeling like the poor friend to something I consider much worse: the cheap friend.

It is humbling, even embarrassing.

I am halfway to being debt free. So close, but still so far away. I just want this debt to be gone so I can stop feeling like a moocher. I want to go out to eat and order what I want without worrying about how much it costs (and order something to drink other than water). I want to be able to go away for a few days without feeling like I'm breaking the bank. I want to not have to defer an educational opportunity because I can't [expletive deleted] afford it.

I know in the end this will have all been worth it. But you know what? Sometimes it sucks.