Dear Eric: I’m 26 and have been living on my own in an apartment for two years. I ran into some financial difficulties and had to get some money from my grandpa and parents.
I’ve gotten to the point where I can pay for all my bills and groceries if I budget, but my parents and grandpa are constantly asking about how I’m doing financially. They even go as far as to ask what I’m spending money on. I know they’re worried about me, but I honestly feel like my finances and purchases are none of their business.
It’s gotten to the point where I dread seeing them, because I know they’re going to ask me again and talk to me like a child. If I needed help, I would tell them, but their constant badgering is making me feel ashamed of being low income and anxious about our next interactions.
Am I being overdramatic, or are they overstepping?
– Feeling Stuck
Dear Stuck: This is a growing pain for all involved. Your parents and grandparents are learning, perhaps not quickly enough, that you’re an independent person capable of managing your own finances. They’re also trying to show care and concern for you. Grant them a little grace as they learn a new way of expressing their love.
Find a moment when things feel neutral and bring up the ways they communicate with you about your finances. Say, “I want you to know I’ve been working hard to put myself in a good financial position. Sometimes when you ask about my finances, I feel critiqued. Can we try talking about money in another way?”
And then propose new ways. Do you want to get advice about your budget but not have to justify your expenses? Say that. Do you want to put a moratorium on money talk altogether? Say that. You don’t owe them a full accounting.
Do this at a time when you’re not feeling defensive. It will help you speak more clearly. They may say they’re just trying to help, but one of the keys to transitioning a parent-child relationship into adulthood is finding new ways of asking for and accepting help – on both sides. You all may not find a perfect balance right off the bat. But don’t get discouraged. Keep asking for what you need.
Dear Eric: I live in a very social neighborhood that has fun guest-oriented activities and events all the time. We all strive to be good neighbors, hosts and guests, but I often find I’m on the outside of what seems to be appropriate.
Examples: A call goes out to volunteer at an appointed time. I show up at the appointed time. The task has been mostly completed by those who show up early and now I feel like a slacker.
A buffet-type dinner where you arrive at six to socialize, and then the time to eat is announced. No one starts the buffet line. I’m hungry so I take the initiative. People then line up behind me.
An informal gathering that’s running long where people have things to do in the morning and my social battery has run out. I get up and say, “Well, folks, I’m heading out.” Others immediately follow.
Please know that I take a beat before I do any of these things, hoping someone else will take the lead. My husband is loath to offend and will say, even though he’s as ready as I am to do these things, “Oh, that person is ready to go home so…”
I do not want to be the first to act, or that person, but feel that if I don’t, no one will. Am I being rude or am I justified? Am I wrong in thinking it’s exhausting to worry about how others will judge you if you do what will make social experiences move along?
– Party Anxiety
Dear Party: In the mid-’80s murder mystery film “Clue”, Mrs. Peacock finds herself at a deathly boring party (that’s about to get a lot deathlier). Faced with awkward silence, she says, “Well, someone’s got to break the ice and it might as well be me.”
She then launches into a long, hilariously bizarre monologue. It’s awkward but it does what it was meant to do – break the ice.
Embrace your inner Mrs. Peacock with no shame. Ideally, everyone at a social gathering would feel empowered to say and do what makes them comfortable, but social mores and shyness often conspire under the guise of politeness. That’s where Mrs. Peacocks show their plumage.
If you’re ready to go, don’t let the perceived judgment of others stop you. Chances are, they’ve gotten used to you being the person who gives them permission. So, Mrs. Peacocking is not only a character trait, but also a calling.
(Send questions to R. Eric Thomas at eric@askingeric.com or P.O. Box 22474, Philadelphia, PA 19110.)
