As a 68-year-old widow, I have spent a lifetime working and saving, and I am proud that my house is entirely paid off and my retirement fund is finally comfortable. I have a steady financial standing, yet I recently faced an uncomfortable truth about my two adult children, my daughter who is 41 and my son who is 38. I had always believed that giving them financial help was simply an act of love, but I finally realized that my constant assistance had actually fostered an undeniable sense of entitlement in them, disguised as their deep family bond.
My daughter, despite holding a good professional job, constantly expresses her belief that life is inherently unfair to her and consistently expects me to financially rescue her from every small difficulty she faces. My son, on the other hand, seems to completely lack any professional stability; he has not successfully kept any job for longer than a single year and continually asks me to “lend” him money, which I never actually see returned to me. I had said yes to their demands for years because I desperately wanted to show them my love and support for their lives.
However, when they both began the truly uncomfortable practice of overtly asking me about their future inheritance, casually mentioning the house, I absolutely knew I needed to change the entire script of our relationship immediately. One calm Sunday during dinner, I informed them that they would both certainly receive their inheritance, but only after they had successfully followed three very simple, yet crucial, rules I had set forth. They both laughed at first, but their laughter quickly died when they realized I was completely serious about my expectations.
My first rule stated clearly that they must successfully save enough money to cover one full year of their entire living expenses. I explained simply that if they could not manage their own personal finances responsibly, they were certainly not ready to manage mine. My second rule demanded that they must be free from all debt resulting from their controllable choices, specifically forbidding gambling, foolish “get-rich-quick” investment schemes, or the unpaid credit card balances accumulated simply from going on unnecessary vacations.
My third, and most important, rule required that they must give back to the community before they actually received anything from me. I told them they must volunteer their precious time, mentor a younger person, or donate to a meaningful cause, proving that they truly understood the profound value of the money and the wealth they stood to inherit from me. My son immediately stormed off in anger, and my daughter angrily called me manipulative for setting these conditions for them.
I patiently told them both that I was not punishing them for their past mistakes, but rather actively preparing them for their financial future, asserting that true wealth should always make them stronger, not softer in their lives. After a period of silence and distance, my daughter finally showed some movement; last month, she sent me a photo. She had successfully completed a financial literacy course and had actually started a savings account for her own child, proving that my tough love had finally made an important impact.
