All the members of my family know that my husband and I own two homes. They also know that one of those homes is located in a community near the ocean. Sometimes I wish we had never told them. When money sits in the bank no one knows just how much your worth, but when you buy a home in a beach community every knows you have saved quite a bit of money.
Truth be told that house is one of the shining achievements of my 29 years. Five days after my 28th birthday I signed the purchase agreement for my beach home wearing a partially wet bathing suit straight out of the ocean. But a lot of hard work and sacrifice had led to that day. Taking the right courses in college, graduating with a high G.P.A. Looking for a job long before I graduated, working my tail off in that job, including working long days, nights, and weekends. Living in a group house with one bathroom and five messy roommates. Plunking our salaries into principal payments so we could stop paying PMI, (primary mortgage insurance), on our first home. Reading personal finance books and books on frugality and convincing myself and my husband to change our spending habits.
So given all of that… why do I always belittle the hard work it takes to save when I discuss the beach house with my family? Last night my husband pointed out that I am constantly praising luck for our circumstances instead of hard work. I guess I wonder if my family will understand the hard work. After all, a construction worker would never classify a software developer’s work as hard.
Every life is made up of a series of decisions and each decision can radically alter the course of one’s life. Although I know that I have worked hard to achieve our dreams and to continue reaching for them, I guess I think no matter what I say, certain members of my family will believe it was all luck anyway.