Money Confessions: At 39, I am a Broke “Rich Kid” Living in My Mum’s House

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I sit on the edge of my bed, my head in my hands, staring at the empty can of deo on the floor. The small luxuries that I could once so easily afford are no longer available. The once pristine white walls of my room in my mum's house seem to be closing in on me, suffocating me with the weight of my regrets. 

Here I am, 39 years old, still living in my childhood room that now feels like a prison, the peeling paint a metaphor for my shattered dreams.

Growing up, I was the envy of my peers. Everything was handed to me on a silver platter. My family was well-off and I never lacked anything. Expensive clothes, the latest gadgets, and lavish parties were my norm. 

I dropped out in my second year of campus and I never told my family. They kept waiting for my graduation day but it never came. Instead, I became the neighbourhood’s "rich kid" who always showed up with expensive liquor and was ever surrounded by beautiful girls. My parties were legendary, my wardrobe full of designer clothes and colognes.

Wasted Job Opportunities

Despite my reckless lifestyle, my mum who worked for a big bank, got me a job at one of their branches. But I couldn't keep it. Heavy drinking had become my routine. Most mornings, I showed up late, if at all. 

My mum's reputation was on the line and she called me constantly begging me to step up. But I ignored the warning letters and her pleas.

My elder sister tried to help by getting me jobs through her friends, but the cycle was the same. My family even set up several businesses for me, but I squandered every opportunity. 

I always found an excuse to grab a drink or go on a partying spree. Each business failed, and I blamed everyone but myself. Whenever they tried to talk to me, I dismissed them, saying they took life too seriously. Life was meant to be enjoyed, I argued.

Years passed, and my life spiraled out of control. I often found myself in drunk fights and police cells became a second home. The parties and the fun faded, replaced by a hollow emptiness that gnawed at my soul. The faces of friends who had once cheered me on turned into shadows of disappointment. The mirror became my enemy, reflecting the wreckage I had become.

A Wake-Up Call

The turning point came on my little brother’s wedding day. At 28, he was getting married, had a piece of land in Ruai, and was planning to build a home. He came home in a shining Subaru Impreza - he had his life together. 

I was 38, still living at my mum's house with nothing to show except the sorrow I had caused my family. I remember standing in the corner, watching him smile, surrounded by friends and family. That’s when it hit me. The decades I had wasted flashed before my eyes, a montage of poor choices and lost opportunities.

I looked at my brother, a decade younger and miles ahead. I had blown every chance to clear school, trashed jobs given to me on account of my family's reputation, and drank away businesses that only needed basic management. 

The realization hit me like a freight train. I had wasted my life chasing temporary highs, leaving behind a trail of broken dreams and disappointed loved ones.

Now at 39, living at my mum’s, I finally got sober. Thank Goodness!! I managed to get a job as a driver, a humbling yet honest start. The roar of the engine is a constant reminder of the humbler path I now walk. 

I regretted all the chances I had wasted, the money I had blown on parties and other vanities. Had I saved even half of what I spent, I could have built a life for myself. I think about the financial ruin I brought upon myself every day. 

Also Read: Money Confessions: I am Tired of Pretending to be a Rich Man

The indiscipline and reckless spending not only cost me jobs and businesses but also drained my financial resources. Dropping out of school severely limited my career opportunities and future stability. 

Not Too Late

I learned the hard way the importance of responsible money management and personal discipline on financial health.

Every day, as I chauffeur my boss' kids to and from their school in Westlands, I can't help but imagine having kids of my own, especially since my boss is two years younger than me. But I have learned. 

I owe it to my family and myself. The echoes of my past linger, but each small step I take now is a move toward redemption. Haunted by the faces of those I let down, I use that pain to fuel my resolve.

As I sit in my room, I hope to start small, save what I can, and eventually move out of my mum’s house. I plan to build a life on my own, step by step. For the first time in years, I feel a glimmer of hope. 

Life is not just about fleeting pleasures - building something lasting and meaningful is a rewarding experience. With each passing day, I am determined to do just that. One day, I will stand on my own, no longer a burden, but a man who rose from his ashes.