I’m 19, But I Don’t Wanna Be Rich When I Grow Up

Life, death, sickness and wealth. These are all the great chapters in life aren’t they?

I’m not saying that I’ve got them all figured out, but I am pretty sure of how I want to live my life. I recently celebrated my nineteenth birthday but right now, I’m at a stage where I haven’t exactly faced society and felt the full brunt of its force but yet , after my graduation in a few months, I am expected to make an “adult choice”. To be thrown into the working world or further my studies as expected by most of the people around me.

It had occurred to me, that no matter where I went or what choice I made, it was always fueled by this nagging desire to be rich. This long ago notion that was instilled into me was that I could have hobbies and passions but these would not keep me alive. Money was what made the world go round, not spirit or zeal. Sadly, I faced up to reality.

Thinking back to how I was brought up, I did not come from a well-to-do family. Sure we got by, definitely more fortunate than others. However I frequently recall my mother telling me that we do not have the money to buy the things that were unnecessary. She never gave in to my temper tantrums, and as I grew older, I stopped asking. I learnt to go to the library, developing the skill of borrowing and starting the early stages of “bartering” in my life. In my pre-teen years, I had two best friends, both of which whom were from wealthy families. One in particular was very spoilt. Whatever she wanted, she got. Sure there were bouts of jealousy, even a short phase of stealing when I was younger, but that was soon put to an end by my parents.

Fast forward to where I am now. I am surrounded by close friends who are clearly more well-to-do than I am. They never needed to be on the lookout for part-time jobs or search for the cheapest product possible. My parents have worked hard and we live a much more comfortable life now. We’re happy with the simpler things and I can never be thankful enough for what they provide me with. However, my mother never stopped her fussing of finding a part-time job for me.

All of my past together with the pressuring deadline of deciding on a future made me really think. Did I want a stable and high paying job, or did I want one that paid lesser but gave me much more freedom? Then it led me to think about having a family. Sure, no matter how long later, I wanted to have children. And these children, how am I going to bring them up well? It was every parents worry and I did not want to give myself the burden of setting strict rules to be followed by, instead, I could mould them in the tougher environments that I grew up in.

There was no need to live in a great big house that has a beautiful garden and sparkling swimming pool. It was prettier to have flower pots by the window sill and much healthier to let children interact at community pools and playgrounds. I did not want my children to live in a soft marshmallow world where they were sheltered and treated like handicapped individuals. I wanted them to live like princes and princesses of the land, being able to appreciate the things that humans could not replicate and learn how to earn their place in this enormous world we live in.

At the age of nineteen, I have not decided on the career path I would like to embark on, or the future I wish to have. Neither do I know exactly what life holds for me nor what love is exactly like. I do not know a great deal of things. But I do know for certain, is that I do not want to be wealthy. I do not want to show off a luxury car or a classy big house with fancy ornaments. I wanted a home, one that was cosy and reminded people of their childhood happiness.

I am nineteen and I still dream about being an extraordinary astronaut or a life-saving doctor or an impressive lawyer. I dream about meeting the perfect soul mate, living a life worth living and providing for my parents. But I no longer dream about being rich.