No matter what anyone says – happiness is hard to find without money!
When illusions meet reality
Since childhood, I’ve been taught that money isn’t the most important thing.
“It’s most important to have good people around you,” my parents would say.
“Love is what matters, not wealth.”
I trusted them.
Then I grew up.
And realized how wrong they were.
I married for love, but it wasn’t enough
I met Emily when I was still a student.
Our love was so intense that we couldn’t breathe without each other.
When we got married, we had neither a place of our own nor savings, and the future was uncertain.
But none of that mattered to us.
We were happy.
We had children. Our home was filled with their laughter, toys, and joy.
Everything seemed so bright, so right.
Friends surrounded us, and during celebrations, we had lively gatherings, and I thought it would always be this way.
But life doesn’t favor those who believe in fairy tales.
When money is lacking, happiness fades
The first blow came out of nowhere.
I lost my job.
I was left without work, without stability, without confidence.
Emily continued to work, but her salary was never enough.
At first, we simply started cutting back.
Then we began to avoid guests – because we had nothing to offer.
Gradually, our smiles faded.
Even simple things became out of reach
My wife always loved nice things, quality makeup, expensive perfumes.
But now she was rummaging through second-hand shops, hunting for sales, buying the cheapest items.
She learned not to focus on quality – only the price.
And I watched her, seeing the light in her eyes start to dim.
She detested the cheap soap in the bathroom, the low-priced detergent, everything that reminded her of our poverty.
I was losing her – bit by bit, every day
She became irritable.
She grew resentful towards me.
She looked at me with reproach – and I realized she no longer saw me as a man who could change things.
I tried to find work.
But all I was offered were minimum wage security jobs at construction sites.
I accepted because I had no choice.
Yet it wasn’t enough.
Emily became silent more often. Turned away more frequently.
And I didn’t know what to say.
I just shrugged my shoulders:
“What can I do?”
“We’re not alone in this,” I said.
“A lot of people are in the same situation,” I tried to console her.
But deep down, I knew – it was weakness.
She knew it was weakness.
And the love we once thought was unbreakable melted away like snow.
My parents were wrong. Money matters most.
I am angry.
At myself.
At Emily.
At my parents, who never taught me to fight for money, never instilled a drive to earn.
They said money wasn’t the main thing.
But it was precisely its absence that tore my family apart.
Not love.
Not betrayal.
Just poverty.
And now I know: happiness is hard to find without money.
