As a Gen Xer, I grew up in the 80s. That decade had plenty of problems—high inflation, Black Monday, the Cold War—but personal finance felt much simpler then.
There were fewer choices, and people generally saved more. Maybe that’s how a child would see it; we didn’t have fancy cell phones or shows like HGTV to stoke our wants.
My family never used phrases like “financial independence,” “live below your means,” or “be frugal.” Those habits were just part of everyday life.
Money was never taboo in my house. Talking about the budget—what we could afford—was normal.
My dad was an accountant for the Department of Defense. My mom mostly kept the house and worked a few part-time jobs over the years. Lucky for me, my grandmother lived with us and ran her own small business.
We weren’t poor. We lived in a small ranch house with two Chevy Caprices in the driveway. The adults never fought about money. Growing up in a home where my parents were on the same page financially was a real blessing.
I was an only child and, oddly, not spoiled. I was loved and maybe overly protected, but I didn’t get mountains of toys. I admit I sometimes felt shortchanged—no hard feelings, Mom.
I envied what my friends had. Once, at about nine, I complained that my stuff didn’t measure up to my friend Robert’s. Grandma told me to move out if I wasn’t happy and even suggested I live with Robert’s parents. Holy cow, Grandma! That cured my envy. No hard feelings, Grandma.
My dad had his own way of handling my requests for an ATV, a pool, or every new Nintendo game. He’d remind me of my chores. Smart redirection.
My summer job was raking rotten apples, then mowing the lawn. It smelled like a weird spa smoothie. Dad believed yard work would take my mind off what I wanted—by the time I was done, I was tired and usually forgot about the request. It worked most of the time.
Looking back, I don’t feel bitter. We joke about how cheap my parents were, and we laugh now. At this point it’s easy to see why they made those choices.
It’s not like I had no fun—my dad took me to ball games, fishing trips to Canada, amusement parks, and a family trip to California. We weren’t destitute. We were just… the 80s.
How I was raised, and the influence of my parents and grandmother, shaped how I manage money today. It shows how later financial success often traces back to childhood lessons.
My grandma ran an alteration shop—not a big money maker—but she saved. She bought savings bonds and CDs. She’s 94 now and still talks about getting 14% on CDs. When I was small, she explained compound interest and how money grows when you don’t waste it.
I didn’t see much of my dad until I was six—he served in the Army during the Vietnam War. Before that, he worked in a warehouse. Wanting to provide more, he used the G.I. Bill to take night classes and earned an accounting degree in five years while working days at the warehouse.
He later wondered how he pulled it off. Maybe he felt he had no choice—he just wanted to provide for his family. That taught me about sacrifice and trade-offs to reach goals. Earning a degree let him make at least a million dollars more over his career, and he retired at 57.
In the early 80s, consumer debt wasn’t as big a problem—probably because credit was harder to get and interest rates were high. My dad taught me to avoid debt. It made him anxious; he panicked if he owed a lot. He even paid off a 30-year mortgage in 13 years—now that’s motivation.
My mom, with her part-time jobs, was also a minimalist. Clutter didn’t last in our home; it was neat enough to film a sitcom. What she taught me: less is more.
With such strong role models, it’s no surprise personal finance became a passion for me. Scarcity narrows your options, and I appreciate that my parents focused on managing what we had.
When I started working, saving was automatic. I wanted my money to grow through compound interest. After some trial and error, I went to college in my early 20s. How would I pay for it?
Student loans terrified me. I remember adding up the cost of a degree and feeling panic at the thought of owing $20,000 or more. I almost skipped college, but instead I tightened up and worked when I wasn’t in class.
I’m a minimalist now—not because I read about it on Abandoned Cubicle and thought it sounded cool, but because material things take too much energy. Growing up frugal taught me to buy quality when I needed it and to control my wants.
It’s remarkable how much your upbringing shapes your view of the world. You can’t pick your parents, but I feel like I won the lottery with mine.
As kids we think our parents are unfair or cheap. Later, after leaving home, we see how their example set us up to succeed—plain and simple.