No matter what anyone says – there is no happiness without money!
When dreams shatter against reality
Growing up, I was taught that money wasn’t everything.
“What matters most are the good people around you,” my parents would say.
“Love is more important than wealth.”
I believed them.
Then I grew up.
And realized how wrong they were.
I married for love, but that wasn’t enough
I met Cathy when I was still a student.
We loved each other so much that we couldn’t breathe without one another.
When we got married, we didn’t own a home, had no savings, and felt uncertain about the future.
But none of that mattered to us.
We were happy.
We had children; the house was filled with their laughter, toys, and joy.
Everything seemed so bright, so right.
Friends surrounded us, celebrating holidays with lively gatherings, and I thought it would always be this way.
But life doesn’t favor those who believe in fairy tales.
When there’s no money at home, happiness fades away
The first blow came suddenly.
I was laid off.
I found myself without a job, without security, without confidence.
Cathy kept working, but her salary wasn’t enough for anything.
At first, we just tightened our belts.
Then we started avoiding guests because we couldn’t afford to entertain them.
Gradually, the smiles faded from our faces.
I could no longer afford even simple things
My wife always loved nice things, fine cosmetics, expensive perfumes.
But now she had to rummage through charity shops, hunt for sales, buy the cheapest options.
She learned to ignore quality – only focusing on price.
And I watched as the spark in her eyes dimmed.
She hated the cheap soap in the bathroom, despised the low-cost detergent, loathed everything that reminded her of our poverty.
I was losing her – bit by bit, every day
She became irritable.
She grew angry with me.
She looked at me with reproach – and I knew she no longer saw a man who could make a difference.
I tried to find work.
But all that was offered were minimum wage security jobs at construction sites.
I took one because there was no choice.
But it wasn’t enough.
Cathy grew more silent. Turned away more often.
And I didn’t know what to say.
I could only shrug:
“What can I do?”
“We’re not the only ones,” I would say.
“It’s like this for many people,” I tried to reassure her.
But I knew it was weakness.
She knew it was weakness.
And the love that once seemed unshakable melted away like snow.
My parents were mistaken. Money is everything.
I’m angry.
At myself.
At Cathy.
At my parents who never taught me to fight for money, who didn’t instill in me the drive to earn.
They said money wasn’t important.
But it was precisely the absence of it that broke my family.
Not love.
Not betrayal.
Just poverty.
And now I know: without money, there is no happiness.
