Girl code: Why I'm proud earning my own money

Back when I was in a long term relationship, some lessons came through to me that I don’t think will ever leave me. As fate would have it, I was dating a financially stable man yet I was unemployed. Talk of God remembering His daughter!

I remember how sweet it was spending money those days. It was probably because I didn't know the feeling of earning it! All I had to do was ask for money and it would be given without a murmur. My man would walk with me into a shopping mall and ask me to push whichever size of trolley I wanted and pick anything I wished. Imagine such an offer! Wasn’t I blessed my people?

But you see, I was young and naïve. I know some of you will claim I wasn’t naïve, are you me? Get it from me, I was a naïve housewife. I call myself a housewife because I had already moved in with this young man; though I could always go back home whenever I wanted because no cows had been imported into our village from theirs.

Now, back to the mall, imagine taking your wife to shop for groceries and all she picks is cake, chocolate and ice cold drinks! Not that I didn't pick any rice and sugar. They were just not a priority in my life. But this man would not even guide me through it or say a thing. He would just watch me pick all the junk then calmly take another trolley and pick essential stuff as I waited for him on the other side of the checkout counter while munching on a hotdog and sipping on cold guava juice!

I didn't know what it meant to pay house bills either. I would take the longest hot showers without caring about the electricity and water bill. And I always walked past the caretaker, without even a simple ‘hi’ because I thought I didn’t have to. I didn't even know the bank into which all these bills were paid and my man never once sent me to make a payment. This went on for a clean seven years!

By the time this relationship was hitting a dead end, I was as good as a student just leaving high school. Just so you know, the relationship did not end because I was a spendthrift. Come to think of it, I wasn’t even a spendthrift -- I just didn’t feel any pinch while spending money. The relationship ended because both of us grew horns at some point and there was no-one to dehorn us. You would think we were competing with the ankole cows.

The reason I wrote this piece revolves around how I felt the day I started spending my own money, soon after we parted ways. It was the most painful thing ever! Even buying my own drinking water felt like digging the foundation of a skyscraper. From walking past the caretaker to looking for him to negotiate the month’s rent. From taking long, hot showers to taking short, cold baths just to manage the water and electricity bills. I even remember hiding from the man who collected our garbage because I couldn’t imagine paying for trash!

You should see me walking into a supermarket these days. If the trolleys are on my right, I will keep to the left. All I need is a small basket to strictly pick that essential item. The moment I hand my cash to the cashier, I feel pain in all my internal organs. My duodenum starts shaking, my left ventricle spins around and my kidneys give each other a high five!

I should have known all this while still in that relationship. Maybe I would have acted more responsibly. Right now, I am seated here trying to put words together, words to sweet talk my landlady because, as it stands, corona came in the window and money flew out of all possible exits.

I have really been toying with the idea of going back to this man. But my ego, oh my ego cannot even fit inside this whole world! So I will work my small behind and earn my money, a lot of it. And I will spend it wisely, without hurting my duodenum. I urge you all to do the same.

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