When I was a little girl I spent a lot of time fantasizing about what it would mean to be “safe”. One of my qualifications was that I wanted to have $250,000 in savings of some kinds and another was that I wanted to own my house outright.

I’m pretty sure I’m five years away from owning the house outright. I linked all of Noah’s investment accounts up to Mint. Apparently we have more than $500,000 in investments to go with our more than $55,000 in cash.

If you add in the house value (which we don’t fully own yet anyway) we are over a million in net worth.

My head has been exploding and I keep getting these energy bursts. Oh my fucking god I am so going to fuck this up. I am going to do something terribly wrong. I am going to break the whole fucking thing.

Unless Noah gets over his abhorrence of management he is probably just about at his salary max for this lifetime. He probably has fifteen more years where people will hire him for coding. After that his salary is probably going to drop precipitously. I hope to be ready to coast from there.

I’m thinking about this really hard because my spending this year matters if I want to do a bunch of the upcoming stuff. And I’m kinda trigger happy. I shop more than I need to. I have a lot of years of deprivation behind me. It is hard to always say no when I know I “could”. It uses a kind of self control that is new to me. It is really draining and hard.

But there is a big part of me that says, “Shit dude. You could cash out half the stock and pay the house off and be to your former goal. Declare yourself the fucking winner already.”

But the goalpost moved. If I don’t fuck with the investments then over the next period of Noah’s employment we will absolutely reach more than a million invested. Apart from the supposed value of our real estate.

That idea fills me with anxiety.

Just like Noah doesn’t want to hit a net worth of a million through inheriting from his family I feel weird about being baggage. I’m not doing this. I don’t feel “worth” this.

He’s adamant that it is all joint money. I’m not complaining about Noah.

This is about me. Am I going to make something of myself or am I going to be the dependent of someone who made something of himself.

The funny thing is: I was totally ok with that with regards to my Owner. I feel weird and uncomfortable with this dynamic as a marriage. I wonder if it would have changed if my Owner had been interested in children. I will never know but I wonder about myself. I wonder how I would deal with this panic.

It would be really bad. Noah is willing to cooperate with my budgetary restrictions and limits. He’s willing to allow me to grow our mutual wealth. He’s grateful.

My Owner uhhh wasn’t open to that kind of dynamic. I don’t think marriage and children would have changed that.

I don’t know why this is bothering me so much.

I had a fucking plan for how to get to the point where I owned a house and had 250,000 fucking dollars. And now it’s been blown all to hell. I mean, I can’t bitch about being twenty or thirty years ahead of where I planned for times two. Yet here I am.

I’m not bitching. I don’t wish it away and I’m squirreling more away as fast as I can.

Well, not as fast as I could. I do own a second high gas consumption vehicle. But I use it. The cargo space is fantastic. I have moved a lot of stuff. I need the seat space or cargo space at least once a week and often two or three days. So I eat the cost.

I do have luxuries. I try to be grateful for them every single day.

I eat very good food. I have a fairly balanced diet despite my griping that I live on dairy, wheat and meat I don’t. I eat a lot of vegetables. I just don’t give myself credit for them yet.

I am so grateful that I get to spend as much money on food as I do. Both at the grocery store and at ethnic restaurants. We eat a rather diverse diet and I’m thankful for it. I try new things. I continually try new things and try to be open to new flavors.

This is such a big deal for me. I can do it because when I really don’t like something I stop eating it. I’m allowed. I’m not in trouble for wasting the money. Noah is happy to pay for experimentation (within reason).

I am free to focus on a lot of types of personal growth and non-income producing work because Noah chooses to take me on as a dependent.

Why do I feel so bad about it? I know all the signs of dealing with a psychopath. I know all the early signs that lead to people getting screwed in divorces. Noah has jumped over enormous hurdles establishing that legally I am protected so that I can stop being anxious. I get half. Period.

Yet here I am. Even though my “half” of the cash is exactly the amount I always said I wanted. It’s not just that we haven’t finished paying the house off.

I’m siphoning off bits of the cash and investing it. Maybe if I can make that grow it will change my feeling of worthlessness? Somehow I doubt it. Not worthlessness exactly.

I want my own god damn status. I don’t want to be so-and-so’s wife. Even though I like him a lot. Even though I think he is spiffy and wonderful and I’m looking forward to decades of hanging out with him.

I read Clan of the Cave Bear at a formative time in my life. The idea of status is firmly implanted in my head.

I don’t want to go out and climb a ladder though. That’s not really my way. I want to build a ladder, not climb one that someone else built. I’m an asshole like that. And I get to be that asshole because of privilege.

I feel like I owe Noah more gratitude than I show and that leads to me feeling resentful and that’s not great. I don’t think I’ve been pissy with him. I don’t actually feel resentful. It’s more about feeling restless.

I’m struggling with that “gotta be something more” feeling. Yes, I’m doing all the things I should be doing to be a more balanced person. But I don’t earn money.

Why does that feel so important? I feel like a bad influence. I’m not modeling how to be a productive member of society.

Do I really think that every person has to produce money or they don’t have value? What the hell does that say about me?

I want to be with my kids. I want that more than I want a job. Even though a career would be the most likely way for me to get the money I kinda sorta want.