I am renting a small beach casita on the beach in Encinitas.
The rent is $1950 USD a month. For the majority of members of my life I have only been able to afford $450 -7 50 CAD dollars in rent.
My business has only starved prospering since this past year.
For my last 7 years visiting Costa Rica I always took 3 chicken bus, one ferry and one taxicab, total duration= 12 hours to get to Santa Teresa.
There is an air-conditioned shuttle that costs $50 from the airport and takes 4 hours.
I stayed in dorm rooms filled with drunk Argentinians who party till 3 am on springtime break for the last 5-6 years of my bide for $12 a night.
The last hour I was in Costa Rica in January I was able to rent my own place with a roommate.
It was a shared wooden cabana flat a few blocks from the beach with a Swedish girl who was a graphic designer. It didn’t have a roof and I was bitten by mosquitoes every night. Our landlady was in a constant country of being miserable, her husband was sweet-we didn’t know how they stayed wedded. There was a large rat that moved in and bided despite our biggest attempts. We worked with jungle Wi-Fi, woke up with mosquito bites, surfed everyday and drank cold pipas.
It was the first time I had enough money to get my own space in CR.
It wasn’t luxurious, but it was the first time I invested in my own space and self.
In March I bought a ticket home from where I was living in Costa Rica, I booked the cheapest, longest ticket and a hostel in San Jose the night before I flew out.
As I checked into the hostel I forgot I actually had enough money for the first time in my life to get a hotel if I wanted.
When you’ve had a lifetime of being broke, and being violated becomes your context making money is actually hard.
It becomes uncomfortable.
You have to retrain your brain that spending money is okay, and it doesn’t induce you a soulless shell of a human.
After I got home from Costa Rica I ran shopping for things like shoes( my boots blew out) underwear, a bra that actually fit my petite rib cage and wouldn’t fall down when I breath. A durable travel bag as I had been borrowing my mom’s kayak bags and was constantly on aircrafts. Some apparel for a public speaking gig and workshop I was attending.
I got to the cash register and it was $989.00.
I left all the things and ran in my car and had a mini break down of whether it was morally okay I spent that various kinds of fund on me.
Should I be mailing a check to The Global Alliance for Animals and People, a non earning I help support?
Did I actually need a bra, and a blazer?
Was I only buying useless “things”?
Had I become shallow and materialistic?
My ” unworthy” and “undeserving” reared its ugly head at me in the passenger seat and asked,” Who the hell are you to spend $980 dollars on yourself ?”
I went back the next day and bought everything.
It was hard, and didn’t feel easy but I did it anyway.
When I walked in my boots that were resoled and felt the subsistence on my feet I realized that what spending the money on was simply self love, and that after so long of repudiating self love-it had felt “wrong” to love myself in this way.
Spending money on myself has slowly gotten easier, slowly.
I was on a 2 week journey down California this spring with a couple I gratified hosting a workshop at a yoga studio in Seattle.
We bided at the Marriott or one of those fancy type hotels.
I remember coming down to get a toothbrush in a crinkled shirt before a bellow with my coach and find humen with combed perfect hair and crisp suits and feeling altogether out of place in a long Shakti dress that reeked like India.
I had an entire call with my coach that morning where I voiced all my insecurities with both making money, spending money and what would happen to my art when I wasn’t the woman walking around with bear mace chopping timber in my cabin.
We think that once we have money are problems will go away-in actuality we just generate more problems.
I am dating a human who lives in Austin, Texas and he voiced wanting me there for a aftermath surf competitor this weekend. I decided somewhat last minute to book a ticket to watch him.
Last minute tickets aren’t cheap.
It was over a $1000 dollars to fly direct when it can be as low as $300 USD.
I sat at the screen hesitating on the buy ticket button for about 2 hours.
I virtually didn’t go.
Not merely was I spending money on myself, but I was also receiving his fund to buy half the ticket.
I am still not used to spending money on me.
I am not used to waking up in my beach casita that overlooks the orange and red tainted sand dunes of Encinitas and walking three steps to check the surf.
I am not are applied to hitting an automatic lock button on my Jeep Wrangler as I go for my morning surf-I am used to manual locks on the one and only automobile I have ever drove.
The gardener who tends to the property I live on speaks zero English. I always make sure to come outside and hash out small conversations in my broken Spanish with him.
Today I brought him a coffee and we stood in my yard talking about his family in Mexico, how his mother and parent passed away 2 years ago. He asked how long I was staying in the house and I responded till November.
I wondered what he thought of me in my robe, working on my computer every morning he comes by.
I am scared of being someone who is so busy or so successful they don’t take time to acknowledge the people who aren’t inherently “important” in their days.
Maybe thats partially why I induce him coffee.
Maybe it’s because I am kind.
I know that 9 months into no chicken buses and hotel rooms and direct flights and beach casitas and an deputy I still fight receiving the supporting I have constructed from my business for three years.
I do know that having money does not solve all the problems, it simply makes an opportunity for different ones.
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