People That Grew Up Poor Are Revealing What Their World Was Like

Going to my friends house for the first time and thinking they were super rich. Going to my other friends houses and realizing the truth. Then I started noticing things.

Elbow noodles and canned stewed tomatoes as a regular food. Nothing else. No meat. No cheese. Just bare pasta and canned tomatoes.

Not having tried a pizza pop or brand name mac n' cheese until I was in high school. Only getting to have summer treats like freezies and popsicles when I was at a friends place.

So many foods that I've never tried or hadn't until moving out. I still randomly pick new things to try just because I can now. Had coolwhip for the first time the other day. I still like making my own whip cream, but it was... nice I guess.

Heating the house with a wood stove in the winter because we couldn't afford to pay the gas bill. It was alright. We had a chop saw and other power tools from work, so I never had to chop much wood with an axe. It was just very very cold until someone got the stove going in the morning. Had to keep it fed all day.

Working with family during summer break instead of playing and going to camps and stuff. I never got paid. It was "well we house and feed you, so we don't need to pay you for work." Cool. I was seven(and all the way to highschool). Ripping up carpet/tile/vinyl during the summer is definitely the definition of childhood. No allowance either obviously.

New clothes were always used clothes. Often new shoes were used shoes too. I have no siblings. My 'new clothes' were from value village or the neighbors, or even our occasional seasonal employee. Wearing broken down steel toe carpenters boots to grade school was a short lived novelty at best.

Getting scolded for opening the fridge, ever. I still feel like a fat ass if I go near the thing(I wasn't and I'm not) but that was the complaint. "You'll get fat."

Thanks, now I feel terrible every time I'm hungry. And hell one time I got bitched out and called fat for wanting to eat some ice cubes. ICE CUBES. Fucking water. But 6yo me had no idea about calories so okay, no ice.

Not eating out ever until I moved out. Still feels like a special treat to go to any restaurant, even burger king. This new era of ordering food deliver to my house is unreal.

The expectations was that I never talk about it for fear of getting scolded or worse. Don't talk about being hungry. Don't talk about working over the summer break(because you'll get mom and dad in trouble). And DON'T INVITE FRIENDS OVER.

Username: chaylar

Yeah, we grew up a bit poor. You know how people say, "we were poor, but we didn't know it"? Yeah, well, we knew it. We're talking Great Depression stuff. I remember back in 1975 the ads for Crazy Glue came out.

We couldn't afford new shoes, so we'd use that glue to repair our shoes for a few weeks. It worked. One time my sister had to get some sweats for track and it cost $11. My brother and I razzed her for days and days about the exorbitant cost.

I remember when I was in grade school in 1975, my parents and my brother & sister had a hushed conversation about school lunches one morning. Come to find out, I (the youngest) was the one that got the lunches, and my brother and sister went without because they couldn't afford it - with no complaint from them. I am still in awe about their attitude. Truly.

The winter of 1981 was the worst year. One week in the deep part of winter we went a few days without food. I remember that we somehow scrounged up enough money for a loaf of white bread and two cans of Campbell's bean soup. I don't think I've ever tasted something as delicious as that. My brother and I were washing our hair with granular tide laundry detergent at that time - we couldn't afford shampoo.

The family would ask no help from the government or anyone else, ever. Folks nowadays might not understand that attitude. I still feel that way, considering we were all able-bodied (the answer would be different if that were not true).

Finally by the latter part of 1982 with all of us working (I was in high school by then), we dragged ourselves out of the funk by our fingernails. Thank goodness for Reagan pulling the economy out of Carter's malaise - if you didn't live it, you have no idea what it was like.

Could you imagine interest rates as high as 22%? Yeah, that's the way it was at the end of the Carter years. Really nice guy, but wholly inept as president. Some kids used to eat mustard sandwiches for lunch during those years - just ask around.

Anyway, we made a decent amount of money fixing up repossessed houses a couple of years after the Carter era, and things were starting to look better, and did in fact get much better. Now nearly 40 years later I am doing very well, and that's surely not by accident.

I picked a profitable profession and went after it. I think the phrase "never again" explains it. There's no better motivator than hunger, in my opinion. Along the way you learn to be self-sufficient as well, and not blow money on stuff you don't really need.

I've got six old used cars in my driveway that keep three people driving (the latest model is a 2008). I learned how to fix cars on the side out of desperate need in the early years, and still do it because I still can. I'm not bragging. What I'm telling you is that "if I can do it, anyone can do it."

Back to the topic - what were the social expectations growing up? Never tell anyone how bad you're doing. During all of these years, our very best friends had no idea what we were going through. We were ok with that.

Username: SpockRules

Anytime I talk about the trappings of cycle of poverty people outside of the context of poverty act like I'm crazy. Poverty is a socially reinforced construct as a form of mental adaptation of the survival state you are put in.

Talking about money, how much you get paid, your home life, etc are all seen as breaking the social contract. Life is about escaping the misery of your poverty...and therefor talking about it is bad. This can tend to leave people feeling isolated as they feel alone in their poverty.

You either join a religious group...or drugs of some form (including any form of addiction like videogames)...in order to cope. Religion, in many places, actively works against getting out of poverty. At least Christianity glorified the poor, asked for money, and then kept them away from the education that would get them a better job.

On the other end of this, adapting to the social requirements of getting a better job is seen as selling out...because you aren't supposed to look for shortcuts, you are supposed to accept your lot and just work very hard...which is counter-intuitive given almost all low paying jobs are dead end.

Any means off trying to escape poverty is trying to also escape your people and upbringing. The classic "you think you're better than me?" conundrum because poor people have been pitted against each other with the idea being that they "improve" but in reality, they just tear each other down.

Go to school to get an education? Bad. Suck up to the boss to get a promotion? Sell out. Welfare? Lazy unless you are a mom. Hand Outs? cheating. Asking for honest pay is entitlement while doing jobs that pay almost nothing is "honest"...it's hypocrisy.

Everyone blames other poor people for stealing their jobs, their opportunity, which is why in-group thinking due to the survival mentality is more heightened and racially/culturally motivated thinking is so rampant.

I lived in a hugely unequal area where rich people lived in local resorts in the mountains and the entire economy of poor lived off that process and serving that market. In one day hating the rich, the next blessing them for giving them work that barely keeps food on the table and showing their poverty can get them fired....so like, it's rough, it's confusing, it's literally debilitating.

Most see no way out so they have kids, the kids then further engrain them in poverty, cement them where they are, and reinforce the cycle. They love and nurture their children only to see it all happen again the next generation.

The only real asset you gain from the process is frugality and low input lifestyles. Cheap hobbies, acceptance of second-hand clothing, low use of utilities and resources, minimal diets unless food is their addiction, etc.

Those only get you so far, and if they get extra money they don't know how to invest it in productive ways to improve their long term prospects. They just don't have those tools or concepts.

Unless your parents are saints you better expect that if you ever get anywhere your parents will be waiting for their cut or they'll get it without asking. The amount of friends I've had whose parents took out a loan in their name because they had good credit...almost none of those parents were paying back on the loan.

It really sets kids back. Some kids even have their parents ask for money on a regular basis and have to set money they worked for aside for their parents.

Username: magvadis

"Be grateful for what you __do__ have, because someone else has it worse." Here, a short anecdote of when this became real for me and not just a saying repeated at me when I would bitch about being poor as a kid. I grew up in West Virginia in the early 2000s.

We had a s.i.s.t.e.r.n that provided water (an underground tank for storing rainwater) and that would be how we washed dishes, took bathes, flushed toilet, did laundry and showered etc. by using the water collected in that systern. We would set up dozens of 5 gallon buckets on rain days outside to be filled up to flush our toilets too etc.

We had plumbing and running water and shit via a pump inside sistern feeding it into the house. Which is not uncommon in rural parts of West Virginia, as some houses are not hooked up to water municipalities. Ours was one of those not hooked up.

Summer droughts and winter freezing temps were the worst, because that means the sistern didn't get refilled for long periods of time and that meant no clean laundry and fucking sponge bathes and also water was rationed for flushing the toilet and dishes almost exclusively.

No bathes and clean laundry at unpredictable intervals as a kid starting High School, ooooof that f' sucks. It was brutal in so many ways, but I could type on and on about it and lose the gist of my anecdote so won't.

My work around to avoid smelling like ass was, skipping bus ride and bicycling a few miles to school early and using the High School locker room shower every day just before other kids showed up. And washing clothes at a friends house.

My Freshman year in High School, about 15 years ago, I was walking from my house to the local small town convenience store to buy a soda. A couple of bridges and a hill away, about a 30m walk through my back woods small town and I would be there. Not like there was shit else to do so I did it often.

Anyways, the first bridge I come to in a walk I made a million times, I notice a kid maybe only a year or three younger than me and his very young two siblings in the creek (river) swimming under the bridge as I start crossing it.

That immediately made me pause, mentally, and stare as I walked and ask myself questions in my head. Like I said earlier, "city water" (as we called it) was uncommon to have, but ppl did have it in our town. So ask yourself, where does the sewage go for the other half that has well or sistern water? Into that creek, and everyone knew it. So I thought to myself "Gross man, wtf are they doing swimming in that nasty shit creek".

I stared to long, noticed he had a bar of soap and they were all bathing. And he seemed to be washing a shirt with the soap too. So they weren't swimming like I thought. I stared so long, the kid stared back and asked angry, "What the hell are you staring at, got a problem?"

I meekly apologized, knowing how painful it can be to have ppl see and judge you in moments like that and kept walking, and then took another way home on my way back. Anyways, be grateful for what you got because someone has it worse.

Username: OMGits_matthew

Calling and checking in with my parents every few hours because my single parent mother had to work multiple jobs just to cover us living in an apartment.

Finding unconventional ways to make bad food taste better, since we were not able to get more than thr basics... meals like breakfast ( 2 scrambled eggs) were given additions such as ketchup or syrup. Or a kool-aid sandwhich, which was a kool-aid packet, im a glass, and a peice of bread dipped into it with a bit of salt as a sugar substitute because we never had sugar. Because of this I can often cook incredibly well without directions, and seasoning from sight and smell.

Saving for a rainy day - as a child we never were able to get more than what we needed, every extra dollar was saved for a just in case which happened more often than not... whereas other kids got to go to summer camp, or field trips...we had to save to get food, fix the only vehicle we had.

Roaches...I grew up thinking everyone had them. That it was normal to see them around the house, it wasn't until I was 15 or so that I started going over other people's houses and discovered my entire life was below the normal.

This one is a bit darker...so I'll summarize as much as I can.. My mother had a saying " better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it" I could remeber around 6 or 7 my mother teaching me to hustle.

Stealing from shops, pretending to be homeless and hungry scamming people out of money, intentionally starting fights with while wearing watches, chains, anything "repairable" with other kids- and then when the school intervened make a huge scene which often caused the parents to replace or compensate my mother for the damaged "expensive " item.

Mind you I am a black male and was born in 86, in the early 90s this was really effective. It eventually lead me to becoming affiliated and that was my social norm.

Expecting to be used by everyone I dont know. Because of the aforementioned events, I got accustomed to seeing people as tools to be used. " what can this person do for me" it became normal for me to expect others to view me as usable if I gave them information or displayed talents/skills. In turn I learned to assess people's wealth, demeanor and alot of other aspects that gave people "worth"

Username: raizoken23

Mom raised us five kids herself and became a school bus driver to match our school schedules. We were very poor. I used to HATE it. We got ONE penny candy every Friday. One choice of the Clearance Rack at "Monkey Wards" for a new school outfit and if it didn't fit we picked the one we could make work then went home to sew/tailor it ourselves to make it fit.

It was during the 60's and I had one pair of black tights only and they got stretched out so bad length wise that I had to fold the toe under my foot about 6 inches and walk on that fold-over when I wanted to wear those tights.

Mom bought cow brains and tongue sometimes and served that for dinner, We never ate any of it (had cereal instead). That tongue in a pan in the oven was so GROSS! She would always say, as she ate that stuff, "you don't know what you're missing!"

When we told mom "I'm hungry" she would say "I'm Edythe, glad to know ya'," We three girls made our own clothes with ONE pattern (it got so soft with use and all torn sides were taped) very often as we would buy the cheapest material and I would steal the thread/buttons/zipper from the variety store.

I would use my leftover dress-making material and add a triangle to the sides of my jeans to make bell-bottoms when most everyone's parents bought their kids the REAL bell-bottoms. How I envied that. Many many past frugal memories and compromises....

SOOOO, THESE DAYS I am successful and can buy whatever I want BUT I still go to the thrift store and "trade" shoes for a better pair, I will also wear something that doesn't fit (like shorts) and quickly change into something that DOES fit and trade that, I drive a 1989 car (I love it still) and do get the oil changed when needed, I take toilet paper/soaps from hotels, I tell the grocery store vegetable placing/cleaning guy that I have rabbits (I don't) and ask for the vegetables that they are throwing away and go home, clean them up and make a great meal or juice, then bury the refuse in my garden for the worms to have.

I will also ask for food left behind on tables at restaurants (or sometimes just take it, what do I care what people think) and take it home to feed it to our six chickens, I divide and add water to my shampoo bottle as it lasts longer and actually soaps up better, I always go to the Clearance Sections FIRST in any/every store GEEZ... memories and realizations flow as I write this about my past and I can not tell you how much I HATED the frugal way my mother raised us!

But as the years have unrolled in my life, I have turned and fully learned to "make-do" and be resourceful and creative enough to survive well and to take all the weaknesses I had in my past and make them my strengths in my life now.

I see so much waste, there was no waste in my youth in our house and still, after all these years, you'd STILL be more likely to see me at a flea market than at a mall. Gosh I love flea markets\`!

Username: Silent_Classroom7441

We lived for several years on the river bottoms, surrounded by fields of tomatoes, corn, musk melon, potatoes, watermelon, etc. We rented a house, not a farm, but there was ample garden space. Our back garden was feet from one of those fields. Whatever the farmer planted a given year would fail miserably in our garden because all the pests they sprayed for would invade.

I remember picking up what we called "skid potatoes" from the side of the road in the evening...potatoes that had bounced out of the truck. They were bruised, had scrapes on them, and had to be used within a day or two (after trimming the bad bits away).

For that few weeks in the fall, every belly in the house was full. We had potatoes every way you can think of and some ways you probably never would. By the end of the potato harvest, we'd be so sick of potatoes that our undamaged ones from our garden went untouched in the cellar for a solid month, apart from those we canned.

Sometimes a melon would split right when it hit the road that you could salvage part for dessert. Pause for a moment and consider the humiliation of being 13, picking up the least blemished produce that fell off the trucks, and people you know from school going past in cars with their families.

(This was a main road, hence all the trucks.) Then consider the novel experience of being able to eat until you nearly can't move being enough to get you out there every freaking day, even when you think you can't eat another one.

August, September, and October in that part of the country was canning season. August was pure misery, the heat and humidity were unreal. We had a well (probably full of farm chemicals) and would soak our hands and feet in cool water while the stove radiated heat, sealing up our processing for the day.

By late September, the nights were typically getting cooler, but we lived in one of those contrary parts of the country where the end of October might be so cold that you could get snow or so hot that people were going about in shorts and tshirts in the heat of the day. But the house smelled so good during harvest and I loved to see all those jars lined up in the cellar like a mini market.

By 14, I could get hired on for farm labor. I quickly discovered that detasseling corn was out. One day and I was covered in rash with my eyes swollen shut (even with the long sleeves/long pants detasseling "uniform".) They wouldn't allow me to board the bus and they will take anyone with a pulse who even attempts to do a good job.

Picking was back breaking, but I would hire on for whatever the farmer we backed up to was growing, because I could usually take a bushel box at market price to can at home. My pay went into household funds because housing=important.

Username: maddiep81

Staying immobile because you can't afford food. Or fill your stomach with water. When you do get up to do something, have purpose. Food, or more job hunt. Also, for avid readers, read less. Reading burns calories.

Find someone who does make decent money and make yourself their best friend by doing whatever you can that says it's in their best interests to have you as a roommate. Laundry, house cleaning (and I mean REAL cleaning, not just the dishes), errands, miscellaneous fixing of things around house, or on car.

In the meantime don't squander the opportunity. If he lets you eat his food, contribute what you can (however little) to a weekly grocery budget. It says "we both know I can't afford anything. I want you to know I appreciate everything." And look for job number 2.

It's always easier to find a job when you have a job. And it's easier to move laterally for better pay when you're already doing something and have a fallback. Not only are you recognised as an asset for you have managed to keep a job thus far (the longer the better). But if it doesn't work out, plan A is still in effect.

Free education! Khanacademy for regular college stuff. I've been referenced also to codingacademy for my particular interests. Both are great. I can't remember the name but there is another.... sera something or something like that.

They're more like online courses though vs the other two which are self taught/more tutor-ish. If you're well fed enough, volunteering helps get your foot in the door and establish a reputation at potential employers.

Other than that, stack money, be conservative, don't feed into destructive behaviors, don't get too depressed - be positive, but know the catalyst for change is the motivation brought on by your poverty stricken misery/boredim, and stay outta trouble. Reliable transportation is a must, or become extremely familiar with the bus schedule.

The thing about being poor... is that you make your goal "I don't want to be poor." Make money in america and get the fuck out of the country. Cost of vs standard of living here blows.

Username: Abs0lem

Mom raised us five kids herself and became a school bus driver to match our school schedules. We were very poor. I used to HATE it. We got ONE penny candy every Friday. One choice of the Clearance Rack at "Monkey Wards" for a new school outfit and if it didn't fit we picked the one we could make work then went home to sew/tailor it ourselves to make it fit.

It was during the 60's and I had one pair of black tights only and they got stretched out so bad length wise that I had to fold the toe under my foot about 6 inches and walk on that fold-over when I wanted to wear those tights. She bought cow brains and tongue sometimes and served that for dinner, I never ate any of it (had cereal instead).

That tongue in a pan in the oven was so GROSS! She would always say, as she ate that stuff, "you don't know what you're missing!" When we told mom "I'm hungry" she would say "I'm Edythe, glad to know ya',"

We three girls made our own clothes with ONE pattern very often as we would buy the cheapest material and I would steal the thread/buttons/zipper from the variety store, I would use my leftover dress-making material and add a triangle to the base of my jeans to make bell-bottoms when most everyone's parents bought their kids the REAL bell-bottoms, so many frugal memories....

SO, THESE DAYS I am successful and can buy whatever I want BUT I still go to the thrift store and "trade" shoes for a better pair, I will also wear something that doesn't fit (like shorts) and quickly change into something that DOES fit and trade that, I drive a 1989 car (I love it still) and do get the oil changed when needed, I take toilet paper/soaps from hotels,

I tell the grocery store vegetable placing/cleaning guy that I have rabbits (I don't) and ask for the vegetables that they are throwing away and go home and make a great meal or juice after I clean them, then bury the refuse in my garden for the worms to have, I will also ask for food left behind on tables at resturants and take it home to feed it to our six chickens, I divide and add water to my shampoo bottle as it lasts longer,

I always go to the Clearance Sections FIRST in any/every store GEEZ... memories and realizations flow as I write this about my past and I can not tell you how much I HATED the frugal way my mother raised us but as the years have unrolled in my life,

I have turned and fully learned to "make-do" and be resourceful and creative enough to survive and to take all the weaknesses I had in my past and make them my strengths in my life now. I see so much waste, there was no waste in my youth in our house and still, after all these years, you'd STILL be more likely to see me at a flea market than at a mall.

Username: Silent_Classroom7441

Going out to a restaurant is an extreme luxury. Having others cook the food, serve you, and clean your dishes??? We only ever went out on my birthday or my parents anniversary or tax time.

But really you know what calls out being poor in America? Bad health. Can't afford a new glasses prescription or frames. Can't afford dentistry. Hurt? Pray it isn't broken and walk it off. Rash? Grit your teeth and don't scratch it. Sick? Generic Tylenol and sugar water with a pinch of salt until you fight it off or are nearly dead.

I never knew how to wear makeup because we couldn't afford it and the only thing I can do now is bottom lid eyeliner for special occasions. I thought Thanksgiving was where you eat spaghetti with hot dogs and say what you're thankful for and that's it. The school lunch was the first time I had turkey. Always eating all of your food at school because dinner was not a guarantee.

Ketchup sandwich because peanut butter was expensive. Fresh (not canned) veggies are a decadence especially fruit, excluding bananas because the ones we got were from the bargain bin. I thought I didn't like bananas until I had a ripe one that wasn't 1/2 brown sludge.

Cutting the moldy piece out and just hoping you don't get sick. Eating until you feel sick because next meal isn't a guarantee and after you have experienced 3-4 days with nothing except tap water really puts things into perspective.

Getting dizzy at school because you helped in the field last night to make some money because you're all out of food and payday is still 3 days away. So you got up late due to exhaustion and missed school breakfast. I fell down the stairs so much due to non-food dizziness or weakness people stopped asking if I was ok.

Licking the crumbs from the corners of chip bags or granola bars. Severe guilt for asking for ANYTHING.
Filling your tub and all the sinks up because they were about to shut off the water. Going days and days without electricity. I though ceiling fans were a real mark of luxury - especially if they worked!

Trying to find enough spare change to feed the strays because you couldn't afford any pets but you didn't want anyone to feel as hungry as you did.

Crying quietly at night as your parents argued over the bills or feeling bad because of how much you cost your family by being alive. Dying early. Always being polite to people who work in the service industry because they're just as broke and overworked as you.

Username: WerewolfHowls

Both parents were addicts, and they’d leave us at home for weeks without checking on us, bringing food, paying utilities. I was young when this started, but I remember most of the rough stuff happening when I was between 8-12 years old.

Because of my age, I didn’t know that water companies didn’t actually come out to do “water pipe tests” and then forget to turn your water back on. My dad taught us to always wait until the utility guys were gone, and he had a homemade water tool he taught us to use to turn it back on.

He said if we did it while they were there still, someone would get fired for not doing his job, and since it was so simple, we would just do his job for him for free. I was either too innocent to comprehend what was actually happening, or I somehow refused to see it.

My sister, brother, and I would have “yard sales” daily after school and on the weekends to be able to order enough pizza for all of us. We usually made only a few dollars, but we’d scrounge more junk to sell until it made enough to have pizza delivered.

Even at a young age, I did always feel bad about being unable to tip the drivers, but I have always made sure to be an extremely good tipper as an adult to make up for being that starving child that couldn’t before.

As I grew into my teens, I slowly learned how much worse things were than I had accepted before. My sister, brother, and I always feared being taken away and split up, so we sort of had this understanding as to how we would keep things from getting beyond the walls of our house.

Our house had started being painted one year, and my parents had written a bad check to the company, so they stopped painting it halfway through. Other people always talked about it and would pick at us for it, and it was in very poor shape.

My only 2 best friends from middle through high school, slowly learned the reality of my life, and they pretty much helped me in every way possible. They never judged me poorly, they never frowned or told other kids when our water was shut off, they’d even occasionally bring stuff for us to sell at these awful yard sales we kept having.

When it rained, they knew to run to the kitchen for all of the pots and pans bc it would be pouring rain inside the house. Somehow, we managed to turn all of that stuff into a way of life that seemed positive somehow.

To this day, they are still my 2 best friends, and I can’t imagine life without them. By the time I was in my mid-late 20s, both parents had finally cleaned themselves up, and for the first time in my life, I experienced what it was actually like having parents who knew I existed.

Almost 40 now, mom has passed already, but my dad still lives a very sober life. It was hard knowing I only had 3 shirts, a pair of shorts, and 1 pair of pants to rotate in and out- rarely able to wash them, and none even fit.

I still don’t like that awful feeling when the “snobs”(that’s what I called them in my head when I was very young) would laugh and loudly ask me why I wore the same shirt 2 days in a row, or 3 days in the same week, and all of their attention brought more attention to my poor and dirty lifestyle I was trying to keep hidden.

Username: PoorCree

My family weren't poor, we were middle class but there was a kid in my social circle who we were never allowed to visit.

His parents told him no one was ever allowed in their home, period. But one day his parents were away for some reason and he invited a few of us inside, it was the first time any of us had entered the home.

What we found was pretty bad, the curtains were always drawn so you could never see inside and it was just full to waist height in trash. Empty containers for all kinds of food, boxes and packaging.

It didn't smell as bad as it looked surprisingly but it was pretty bad. They were extremely poor but also some mental health problems obviously to be living in the state they were.

The friend who had invited us indoors was malnourished as were his two siblings. I was too young at the time to understand their gaunt appearance but as I thought back it made sense.

Within their home we didn't see the normal kinds of items you would expect. The light in their living room and kitchen worked but not in any of the bedrooms or hallways. They had a single sofa and a very outdated television in the living room but the bedrooms had nothing of substance, their bed duvets didn't even have filling in them. And of course everything looked dirty, sheets that hadn't been changed in years.

The sad thing is, after we left one of the kids who he had invited in must have told someone about it because quite quickly everyone knew their situation and it was the big gossip. The kid who invited us in was beaten very badly by his parents after they found out he invited us inside. I'm talking so bad he couldn't sit down or walk properly.

He was from that point on forbidden from leaving their home other than to attend school. We literally never interacted with him again, never got to see him apart from at a distance when walking to school or walking from school to home accompanied by one of his parents.

The isolation he endured due to this mistake of allowing us into his home went on for I'd say 4 years or so until his family moved out of that house and left the area. Can you imagine how that must have felt?

I really wish now looking back that my own parents would have done something to help him, called the authorities or something especially after he got beaten so badly by his parents.

Also I just want to be clear, I don't think this stuff happened because they were poor, I think their mental health struggles were the real reason for many of the problems they had, you can certainly be middle class or even rich and hoard to a shameful degree and treat your family so badly.

Username: i_mormon_stuff

A bit late, but my mom would tell me to never clue anyone in to how we were living. “Don’t tell your friends about this!!” She always said CPS would get involved and take us away if they saw the state of our on-the-verge of being dilapidated trailer.

She would tell me to never tell anyone anything. She would be very rude and stern about this as well. It was always an unwritten rule that no one could be allowed over. It wasn’t until I was 20 (I’m 21 now) that I have actually had friends over for my birthdays.

Mom would not teach me how to drive, yet be angry when she had to pick me up for work or I wanted to participate in clubs. So this unwritten rule was: find someone else to take and pick you up, or just don’t be part of extracurriculars. Also, couldn’t afford instruments or extra expenses that may arise with being part of extracurriculars, so.. really couldn’t participate much in that sort of thing.

Unwritten rule I couldn’t ask grandparents to pick me up from school, even though I’d be waiting sometimes from 5-7:30 in the student Union. Again, wouldn’t teach me how to drive. Was not allowed to ask grandparents to teach me how to drive either. It would be a bother to them, of course.

Of course later when I have to move in with my grandparents, mom and sister included, I could not talk about my back pain for the flat ass mattress on the floor I had. Springs literally sharp into your back when you lay down or step on the mattress.

So perhaps this isn’t as much about growing up as poor/low social status as it is growing up to believe that everything I needed was an inconvenience. Doctor visits, dentist visits, OBGYN visits? Nope. “You are making me feel bad for not having money!!”

I remember that remark specifically when I first went to the dentist. I didn’t want my two teeth removed bc they could still be saved, but saving them is obviously more than an extraction and our insurance is shit. So, the fact that I was upset about the possibility of having these two teeth removed meant to her that I was making her feel bad for not having money. This includes going years and years without updated glasses prescription, and skipping out on much-needed mental health treatments/interventions (from adverse childhood experiences/trauma).

So basic needs and health visits, unwritten rule not to ask about them regularly, or at all really. You won’t receive. I can remember more, most of this kinda borderline neglect/emotional abuse, but this has been my experience growing up in a low income household w/ a single mother and sister.

Someone needs something from me, whether financially or for a practical reason, okay, my mother told me I should do it. If I ever needed something financially or needed them for practical practical reason? You are a bother, simply do not ask. They won’t help.

Username: musicdrunky

If we’re talking REALLY poor — like, extreme poverty, the kind that doesn’t even exist in the West anymore — I would say a sure sign is a pathological compulsion to eat anything given to you.

I’m from Dharavi, the neighbourhood in which Slumdog Millionaire was shot. through sheer luck, I ended up going to college in America and escaping the cycle of multigenerational poverty into which I was born. But even despite my upward mobility, I cannot bear to throw away even a crumb of food.

For example, I went to McDonald’s with a coworker yesterday. This coworker bailed on me last minute and had to go home shortly after ordering. Instead of just letting his meal go to waste, I ate his 20-piece McNuggets and drank his Coke on top of my own Maharaja Mac meal. Completely finished everything from every box and even took those boxes home (they’re nice for storage!).

I threw up right afterwards. I knew I would - I’m a thin guy with a sorta small appetite (6 foot and 105 lbs). But I would totally do it again. Why?

When I grew up, I used to have to eat the same food for a week. We’d make the food on Sunday (everyone’s only day off). If I ate the subzi too quickly, I would be stuck with just onions and phulka till the next cooking session.

But my mother would often give up her food for me, and that would be even worse (emotionally). Food is a valuable thing. It’s funny how we humans have more than enough to feed everyone, but my old neighbourhood still starves to this day.

But anyway, I cannot throw out my food, out of respect to my mother and the people like her who are struggling to come by it so hard, as well as out of respect to the five-year-old me — the kid who dreamed of having a full plate.Millions of nouveau-riche Indians, Chinese, and Africans are just like me in that regard.

Username: PriorAd7667

When I was growing up I wasn't allowed to bring friends over. I lived in a pretty bad neighbourhood, not as bad as some, but drive-bys, stabbings, burglary, mugging, it was all common. I'm glad that a blackout never happened in my neighbourhood, that would've scarred me.

Our electricity was spotty, I didn't grow up with even low budget cable and we barely ever had internet, like not till my later teens. I started working when I was 12 mowing lawns and then my money would most likely go to my parents for bills and debts.

There were multiple days when all we had were condiments and bread. A garlic dill pickle spear and mustard sandwich is still the worst concoction I have ever come up with. Everything was off brand.

My Dad was able to score a cheap deal on a PS3 and my siblings and I would argue over who's turn it was and who's already had there time on there. It also functioned as our dvd player because we couldn't afford a stand-alone disc player. I wasn't allowed to open the door for anyone because anyone who was coming to visit would have a key. It was always only family.

One of the most confusing and depressing times was one of our cousins came over to pick up her daughter from my grandparents who were watching her. She came in and sat down on one of our rickety old chairs and I sat on the floor. She looks around and says to my grandparents, "This is where my child is staying?" Directly to their faces. In front of me. That was one of the few times I realised that this wasn't normal.

We also started to raise our own food, we had a garden and we raised rabbits for meat. We still barely got by. If someone took us out to eat as a family I was only allowed to order from the "dollar menu". Then, as a young teenarger when I was out with friends I realised I still did it and I most likely still do, it was just a trained thing. So while they're all eating this filling, good tasting meal, I had a cheap burger or chicken sandwich and a water.

It was all because my parents were ashamed that we had mouse eaten clothes and cheap shoes. A dirty house and cheap meals that were horrible for us kids. They were scared about what would happen ie. CPS.

But all in all, I wouldn't trade it for anything, because while I hated it, and I was confused about why the other kids at school didn't have old torn up clothes or new shoes that weren't from Wal-Mart and were from either the actual company or a shoe supplier.

Or why the other kids didn't go to Goodwill or The Salvation Army for "dress clothes". I still learned almost all I know now from growing up poor. Like how to start a fire, or how to cauterize wounds, or how to stitch up a cut, or how to butcher and clean a rabbit.

Almost all of my life skills were learned by me from my parents. I know about almost all the edible plants from the front yards of most in the US. All the shit that people call weeds were a salad fit for a king to me growing up. I wouldn't change it for the world.

Username: [deleted]

It was expected that Christmas was a "happy time" and a time to be thankful and joyful. I always hated it.

Growing up it was just me and my mom, but we had a lot of distant relatives with like 10 other kids in this distant family. Every Christmas eve we would spend it with this family where Santa would come and hand out all the presents, so one by one everyone would go up and open presents on Santa's lap.

Also worth noting that they would all spend Christmas morning with their immediate family getting more presents and that Christmas eve was more of just a cousin present exchange. Since it was just me and my mom, we would exchange our presents at this time.

Do you know how much it hurts seeing other kids get all these presents from all their cousins and them getting these huge halls and me just getting a single present from my mom. A couple years my mom thought it was better to give me multiple "gifts" - imagine getting up and opening up shampoo or a package of cotton balls in front of everyone else and having to act excited without being embarrassed.

I did get the occasional "pity present" from some of the other families. Definitely shed some tears in the bathroom.

My birthday was late December, so some years I did get a decent present, like a sweet barbie that I wanted, when my mom decided to combine presents. A dog got more presents than me one year.

Then there were some Christmas mornings my mom would spend with other families where we got to watch them open their additional mountain of presents. In fairness, it was still nice to experience Christmas joy which was something I couldn't get at my own house, and it was better than the alternative.

On years my mom and I decided to exchange our presents on Christmas morning, it was really depressing exchanging our two presents alone and then being done with Christmas 2 minutes later. My mom only put up decorations and a tree half the time, and it was one of those 1' high trees. No festive meal, treats, songs; It was just another day.

One of my favorite "shitty" Christmas present I got was a comforter and sheets set (with newspaper wrapping paper). You see, I was sleeping in a sleeping bag before getting it. A reminder that you shouldn't take for granted something like having sheets and blankets.

In all fairness, I don't know what my mom could have done different, so I don't blame her really. Although it wouldn't have killed her to put up the Christmas decorations each year.

Username: Amourah

Unlike a lot of the other comments here, for me there was no shame for being poor. We knew we were poor and never tried to hide it at all. I just thought every one else around me was rich. Even other families that would have been considered poor and trashy by normal standards, we thought they were rich.

The only clothes I ever had that weren't hand-me-downs were socks and underwear. There were zero pressure or expectations to look or pass as middle class in terms of appearance. We were much more educated and knowledgeable about the world than everybody around us, but any type of focus on appearances or looking presentable was frowned upon.

My parents were socialists who spent their youth in impoverished 3rd world countries helping out and supporting socialist revolutions. Growing up around working and middle class Australians, I was made to believe they were rich and bourgeois. Having showers with hot water?

Luxury. Eating anything besides rice and beans or daal? Luxury. Having a working car luxury? Having internet? Luxury. Any house hold item or piece of technology that was bought new and was in working order was luxury. We were born in the 1st world but taught that 3rd world living standards was the norm, and that pretty much anybody else in this country were bourgeois and were taking more than their fair share of the world's resources.

Most of my friends were from immigrant families, whose parents worked hard to give them a better life than they had. I just thought they were rich. They would just ridicule me and say that white people were just tight asses.

Neither me or my friends really understood that my parents political beliefs just made them extremely opposed to western consumerism. Any extra money they did have would go to charity for 3rd world nations. As a kid all I could understand is we are poor, and not ashamed of it.

Everybody else around us is rich and living in excess. It wasn't till I was a teenager, was introduced to hip hop culture and was able to make my own money from illegal means that I realised that all these things that I had always considered luxuries, were actually super easily attainable in a country like Australia.

Username: [deleted]

Electricity bills and heating. to them electricity is just a standard thing your parents provide. for me the electricity was a constant worry as was the hot water . Sharing 1 bath between 4 people . regularly having candles at the ready for when the power would cut out.

Good health, nutrional diet, for them having snacks and filled fridges and freezers is a given an expectation, they may ever understand how truly valuable it is to have just 2 tins of beans in the cupboard and some bread.

Social skills, when you grow up on the bread line you are pushed out for your clothing , the way you look due to poor health and nutrition and everything else you need to . which induces social anxiety, riddling you of social skills making it hard to break the poverty cycle as you grow and want to blossom into work , to them work and social skills are provided threw activities gatherings ect.

Dental hygiene, i would have killed for braces but instead I grew up to have numerous teeth removed and a shit tone of cavities to fill and im left with a wonky mouth. They take for granted those dental visits which further improved there socially inflated ego's.

Carpet and furnishings : all that shit costs ££££ carpets are ridiculous as are sofas bed ect ect , you really do learn to value good old second hand furnishings and even scrap finds when you grow up poor, but these mofos will cry if there decor doesn't match the fucking garden.

Basically: I don't think they will ever truly understand what it is like to sacrifice to worry to be anxious to be afraid for yourself nd your family. They where given their childhood with a cherry on top and I couldn't be more jealous.

They're lucky. But also unlucky .They're lucky because they where well looked after but unlucky for not having their eyes opened to the truth.

Username: kj-may

Getting little jobs from the age of 8 up. Shoveling snow, mowing lawns, raking leaves, pet sotting, eventually babysitting, cleaning people's houses. But no way in hell were we gonna take money from the little old lady in the hood to help her out.

We did that stuff for free. Helping in gardens and doing farm work. All that money going to help your family make ends meet.

Praying that we DIDN' T have another snow day because the only way we got 3 meals a day was if school was in session and we ate free breakfast and lunch. Watered down Kool-aid. Yes watered down because sugar was expensive. And it was flavor-aid

Being embarrassed you couldn't bring in an item required for school. One year I had a teacher take points off everydsy because I didn't bring in 3 boxes of Kleenex in for the classroom when it was start if the year. Like I literally can not afford the extra $5 to bring them in lady. Let alone that our parents have 5 kids and all the teachers are expecting them.

Never going to birthday parties because we couldn't afford it, or get a ride to the party. Learning how to take care of children very early because your parents couldn't afford a babysitter. So the older kids were free baby sitters.

But on the upside it made you a great babysitter for others and you could start babysitting at like 11yrs old. 10 if it were only for a few hours. I also had no problems taking care of my own kid when I had one. I already dealt with anything he could throw at me! At 13 he's still the easiest child I've ever cared for.

Something I loved was swimming in the creek instead of the city pool that cost money. Fishing with my siblings. Camping out our friends ponds and their acreage. Camping is cheap if you basically live that way already.

Mmmmmm bread and air sandwich was my favrorite! Endless waterdowned soups and stews. Powdered milk.

Learn how to budget, grocery shop, and cook from an early age. It's easy to handle those tasks now I'm in my own home and started a family.

Us older 2 kids did everything we could to make sure our younger 3 siblings could have a lot easier life then us. And they did.

We made sure they had more then us, didn't have to work the way we were, and that they just got to worry about kid stuff not the grownup stuff. They turned out to be wonderful and amazing people who work very hard to give to others. I'm so proud of them and would gladly raise them again because it made them who they are today.

Poverty can bring out the worst in people and it's something that my mother lived by. She would often squander the money from the family on bs for herself while my dad was busying his butt to pay the but every week it was the same. It got way better after they got a divorce but I still be need up raising my siblings.

Username: FancyPantsMead

When I was a kid during the summer, my younger brother and I used to go to work with my dad (he owned his own small business, doing construction, home repair and setting up mobile homes). He'd give us $30 each week. I remember overhearing him and my mom talking about how it was only during the summer that he was able to put aside some money to pay for stuff during the school year.

I remember my dad's clients, who were all regular clients he had good relationships with, offering to over pay him whenever a job offer wasn't lucrative enough, because they knew about his finances and didn't want him to go out of business (my dad had a stellar reputation for the quality of his work).

I remember how, every time we had some unexpected event happen like a hospitalization, he would suddenly get calls from numerous members of our church to come fix minor issues in their houses.

Some of those church members were fully capable of fixing the issues themselves. The pastor of our church owned a small landscaping service, yet seemed to need my dad to replace his fence pretty regularly.

I remember ketchup sandwiches.I remember my parents getting misty-eyed and choked up when my aunt gave me and my brother the NES we'd wanted for Christmas so bad.

I remember my mom's book of tear-out tickets that she used to pay for groceries. I remember trips to the junkyard when my mom's car would break down, followed by weekends spent under the hood with my dad.

I remember using a laminated card to pay for my school lunches. I remember "vacations" as meaning a week-long trip to visit my cousins on their small farm in Georgia, or two-week long road trips in the old camper my dad had found abandoned and restored. I also remember being shocked and amazed one year when we went to Disney World. Disney was for rich people!

I remember purple drank. As a kid, all of that stuff was normal. It all made sense. Why would anyone use real money to buy groceries when they could use those tickets?

Why would anyone pay extra for brand new car parts when there were perfectly fine parts in the junkyard? Why _wouldn't_ closer friends of the family pay my dad to fix their roofs or install a new screen room?

Now, as an adult who's made his way into a comfortable middle class living, I know that there are reasonable answers to those questions. But back then? Didn't just about everyone live that way?

Username: MjolnirPants

Hygiene was tough. I remember we ran out of toothpaste once and had to wait two months to replace it because some kids beat me up (for being poor) and I had to get my scalp stapled closed.

We had to separate our dirty clothes by smell sometimes because we only had change for one load of laundry that week. Hurricane season was nice though.

Lots of rain, so we could pull water from the rain barrels to wash clothes in the tub, but then we'd have to make a choice between carrying wet clothes to the Laundromat to dry or wring them out and hope they'd dry before they got that mildew smell. I had one pair of socks that didn't have holes in them.

Those were for special occasions. Had to be careful with them though, because they were going to be my cousin's socks one day. Couldn't afford shampoo, so we couldn't afford hair. Buzz cuts from the neighbor once a month was the standard.

People ask me now if I grow my hair long to "connect with my Indian heritage". I usually just say yes, but really its a reminder that I'm not poor anymore. I can afford it now, I know what it feels like to comb my hair for the first time.

I learned how to drive a car when I was 19, because we never had one to begin with. My squad leader took me to a parking lot and taught me.

The whole time I felt like a pile of crap, like I was a bad soldier because of this (my unit wanted me to drive a Humvee in an upcoming exercise, but I didn't know how and didn't have a license) .

Username: kapu_koa

We weren't all that bad off for the most of my childhood. Yeah, we lived in a trailer in the woods for a lot of it. Yeah, I had the giant brown boxes of govt cheese and powdered milk. I remember running out of regular and powdered milk and experimenting with what to put in govt cereal. (Hint, always choose water and NEVER choose the watered down OJ from frozen concentrate.)

My favorite meal was cheese and mayo sandwiches and you just threw the bread with the mold and ate the rest or even picked the mold off and ate. You heated the sandwich in the oven because we didn't have a microwave.

I remember visiting my stepfathers parents and his dad took me to the drugstore once and asked if there was anything I saw that I liked. No one had ever asked me that question before.

I chose a calculator because they didn't really have toys and I had toys from goodwill and salvation army already. I think he paid $6.99 for that calculator but to me he seemed like the richest man ever.

But when my mom and step-dad (my sisters dad) separated, my mom would move every 6-18 months like clockwork. She would always tell us the landlord was hiking the price or making some ridiculous demands but part of me knew she couldn't keep up the rent.

We spent a summer living in a tent in a campground; my mother, my sister and I, and our cat. There were some serious adventures that year. Every one of my birthday parties was at a state Park because they were free to get into (or close to it) and our tent year we had my birthday there.

You should have seen the more well-to-do relatives faces as my mom trotted them to our site and showed them how we lived. Part of me to this day believes in her instance it was partially because she was terrible with money management but I've been learning a lot lately about how the system is designed inherently to keep the poor people poor, and it's really been an eye opener.

My mom did consider her mom and sister who were somewhat financially stable to be snobby because they didn't give her as many handouts as she wanted them to, but that's for another day.
I see a lot of people talking about shoes here.

When ours were no good anymore my grandmother would disappear to the closet for a minute and say "try these." I swear she kept ever possible size in there somehow because none of the Grandkids ever went without shoes. That was another "rich" thing in my child mind. I used to think I was pretty poor but reading some of these comments I realize we weren't all that bad off at all!

Username: americanineu

Volleyball. Let me give you a little background. Up until I started in the eighth grade, Mom and Dad homeschooled me and my three siblings. Mom was a special education teacher with her master's. Dad worked as a janitor in the public school system. He's a talented man, but my hometown has had a lot of drugs and not a lot of jobs for a while.

My seventh grade year, Mom was diagnosed with brain cancer. Huge, inoperable tumor - supposedly it covered almost the entire top of her brain. Needless to say our education got a little lost in the shuffle of treatment options. That September, we started at the local private school. Mom didn't want our education to suffer, and the public school wasn't well​ known for good education.

Mom died in November. Prior to that, we'd lived... pretty middle class lives. Suddenly, there were five people on a single salary. The first year wasn't too bad.

Then the sympathy from Mom's death went out the window. Then we found out the family member who promised to pay the private school tuition stopped when she died. Dad had to pay normal bills, plus last year's and the current year's tuition.

I joined the volleyball team at the end of my ninth grade year. Two months in, they said we all needed new shoes we had to pay for. I didn't think that would be a problem, so I said okay, and told Dad.

The shoes were $65. Professional-grade sports shoes. I told him, "The volleyball team ordered shoes for everyone, and we have to pay for them ourselves." He looked wary, and asked how much. I told him.

To this day, I think that may have been the only time he yelled at me. "$65 for a pair of shoes? I hope you like them, we'll be eating shoes instead of groceries this month!"

It shocked me a lot. I knew things were kind of tight, but I didn't think they were that bad. I really started trying to be money-conscious then.

Away trips happened, for both volleyball and cheer. He would always give me money for food, but I made sure to order the cheapest things I could, so I could save money for the next trip, and he could keep as much as possible. When I absolutely needed new things, I tried to find the cheapest things possible. As time passed, I got better at pinching pennies, but those were my first fumbling attempts.

I've moved out now, but Dad's still struggling. Literally the moment I have anything ahead of my immediate bills, he's going to get it. He's not a perfect dad, but he tried, and tries, and still works hard.

Username: siuilaruin

Walked 2.5 miles to school everyday from age 8-12, so mom could get to work. Summers sucked because mom was gone 10+ hours everyday. My mom would skip meals for herself so me and my sister could eat a box of Dollar General Mac n Cheese to ourselves.

One time our furnace broke, the pilot light or whatever and we ran it off of 9v batteries because we couldn’t afford to pay someone to come fix it.

We lost our house when I was like 11 or so, I remember the first time hearing the word bankrupt from somewhere other than Wheel of Fortune and asking her what it was. Food drives, free/reduced school lunches, dressed like shit.

Also I’m not complaining, because my mom worked her ass off, she just retired 22 years in the Army, she’s married to a wonderful guy, has a gorgeous acreage in the middle of fucking nowhere (not my vibe but she loves it).

Well into middle class, and is finally at the point where she can consider taking a trip abroad without governmental obligation. I’m so fucking proud of her, and where I come from. Broke-ass-Midwest-kinda-trashy-but-not-really-extra-nice-ass-people-with-hella-work-ethic.

Growing up broke have me a certain resourcefulness that you don’t really get any other way. When I left the house I got kicked out, and I had to fight my way to where I am now. From her example I knew what I had to to do get to live in a safe neighborhood, drive a safe car.

Now I have that, and I’ve got a kiddo of my own, and while life might be kicking my ass right now in so many fuckin ways, I know I got this shit cuz god damn it MY MOMS A BAD BITCH AND SHE TAUGHT ME EVERYTHING I KNOW.

Username: SupercarsSuck

My mother had to give me up after the civil war in Congo. She lost everything but me after a 3000+ km trip across Congo with a Benz160D she, and three local friends. We were the only survivors of sn entire colonial comunity.

The car trunck filled with canisters of fuel to where the Belgians picked up refuggies in Matati moved in with my grand parents in Austria. It was a trip through a beautiful hell especially for me at age 5. All I was allowed to take was my European hard stuffed Bambi and I tiny Tirolean doll that opened and closed is eyes when moved.

My mother had one small suitcase for us two with change of clothes From everything normal +30 to nothing and minus 20C. (I am writing the book)I got three gifts per year and lots of love and excellent care and education at home.

One for Xmas, birthday and end of school year. Usually clothes to wear in the upcoming season and one simple toy. When we went to the village there was only one shop with toys and I never went in because I knew I could not take anything home.

My grandest I recall were a iron gondola one could make go up and down a string, a wood building game called Matador and once a circle with a basic Märklin train set one locomotive and two wagons. But I was not unhappy. I was told other kids were spoiled and later in life would have it more difficult to be happy.

We then had cut meat only once a week. My grand father an Austrian aristocrat by birth always told me as long as your shoes are clean and you walk with your face upwards look people in the eye, no one needs to know how much money you have in the pocket.

They survived two world wars, being chased with nothing after working in Ethiopia for the emperor designing his mother's mausoleum at his fall. His brother was his German teacher that's how he got the job as he was a master stone mason.

In Tirol where we lived to go skiing up the highest slopes like most other kids sometimes when the urge was greater, I would have to watch not to be seen from neighbors or class mates then beg tourists to take me along as kid on a discount ticket they would pay for. Then German tourists were seen as the better off ones.

Later in life I spoiled my grand mother to she passed 96 we traveled the world and I bought her and my mother an apartment. My mother is still alive in Europe.

Username: eutohkgtorsatoca

On Friday's we had "Friday night soup" which consisted of ALL the leftovers in the fridge and oatmeal or ramen added to make it strech. Didn't matter if it tasted good or not, we were thankful to have it.

As I got older and my parents more financially stable we discontinued this. every now and again, when I am visiting them my father starts making ramen with tomato soup and peanut butter and I realize he grew up with even less than I did.

I am thankful to my parents for working so hard and setting an example for me. As an adult I LOVE being able to give my parents the things they want but won't splurge on, and have the ability for my son to enjoy oatmeal as oatmeal and not in a soup.

I remember when not parents moved into the house they are in now. I was 4 then, 26 years later it is much different. It was a 1 bedroom house, a giant hole cut out of the side, and a 1 bedroom trailer pushed up against it. Mind you it was not sealed or connected in any way and we live in western Michigan. When it rained it rained in that crack and the same with snow.

My "bedroom" was a screened in porch that my parents had sealed more so. There were holes in the bathroom floor, one day when I was about 7 a snake came up through one when I was going pee. (I still dislike snakes).

I remember washing dishes in the bath tub because we didn't have a kitchen sink. These things my husband knows but will never truly understand.

Username: mymindfloatedaway

In my small New Jersey town, we had a saint of a woman named Lucille who headed a local charity. I had known her basically all of my life. She and my mom would have coffee together at our house and sometimes we would go visit her at her office and I would play with other kids or help her organize food for the food bank.

I loved organizing the cans of food, so much so that when I went grocery shopping with my mom, I would turn all the canned goods to face the correct direction and make sure they were all pulled up and straight. (Beginning of my career in retail, I guess!)

One of my most vivid memories as a child was on a Christmas morning when I was 5. It was just me, my mom and my sister, because my dad had to work as he couldn't pass up the time and a half he'd get for working on Christmas Day.

My family woke up and there weren't any gifts under the tree. I just thought Santa forgot about us, but my mom and sister told me Santa was waiting until later because Dad couldn't be home with us to open presents until the night time. Later that afternoon, we got a knock on the door, and it was Lucille with arms full of presents.

She told us Santa dropped them by her office and asked her to help deliver them. My sister and I were so excited to open pajamas and crayons and coloring books and clothes and socks once my dad came home. We were ecstatic.

It wasn't until I was 15 or so that I realized all of my mom's visits with Lucille were actually times in which she got food from the food bank, or money to buy us clothes. I didn't realize that my most vivid memory in which I was so so happy was actually another instance where my family had to accept a hand out.

I think the reason it made me so happy was because I could feel how much more special it is to receive kindness from others than to just expect things to be given to you.

After that rough patch, my family pulled through and doing well now. As long as I can remember after that, my mom donated toys, clothes, and now that she's older, money, to Lucille's organization.

Username: sarmbpow

Homie, sit down. I'm about to learn you some shit. I was only allowed to bathe once a week. As a boy going into his teens, this definitely put a damper on my socialization.

I've eat spaghetti with ragu and ramen noodles so much in my life that it was a treat to have freah vegetables. My parents have been astounded their entire lives about my love for fresh veggies that they've told me multiple times how sorry they both were (broken family) that we never had access to them because produce was super expensive. I'm not vegan, I just love veggies. Snap peas are fucking delicious, yall, better than candy. So are peppers. Fucking yum.

The city I live in and went to school in has a dress code. White, black or navy blue collared shirts with the same color pants, skirts, and shorts, black or white sneakers. I had to wear the same thing growing up 3 years straight. I had to make a pair of shoes last 3 years.

Birthdays were largely ignored outside of some box cake and a song. When I moved in with my mom, I had to sleep on a couch because my younger sister and my parents needed a bed more.

When I grew up, i was so conditioned to think this is normal that i was so fucking happy i had my own room when my mother and stepfather moved. For the first time in my life at that point, I had my own room. I was 13. For the first time in my life, I had my own blankets and pillows, my own dresser, my own window.

When I was 14, i had my first real birthday party, with like... friends and shit. But I never took that shit for granted, and I'm trying to teach my kids the same.

Username: moonshinetemp093

Accepting being broke as who you are and staying in that identity because it’s all you know so your pride blinds you from your true potential. As if being poor was a big dick contest as you got older “oh you think you was poor? Well let me tell you....”

I don’t want to use the word hate. I can’t figure out how to describe this but I’ll use hate from a “haterade” stand point rather than pure hatred.

Somehow being broke in my neighborhood seemed to create a norm of hating on people who were better off because they couldnt understand the struggles we went through in the hood. This somehow made you a better person because fuck them, they aren’t grinding like the rest of us.

All that shit talk instead of trying to figure out what they have done to get to the next level or networking, setting goals, searching for the answers to get you out of poverty. I always loved how real the guns and butter scene from Baby Boy was. Such a reality check. I wish more people would listen.

As an adult I see more of my friends make decisions to advance their situation instead of sitting in a rut or at least offset a tangible gain for a quality of life gain. A good life > big ass rims on your credit card.

Ironically I still have great pride in my background lol. I just understand the world is bigger than my neighborhood now. Everyone’s got problems. We just have different perspectives.

Username: DSPbuckle

There are so many things. My parents fought all of the time about money with dire consequences always thrown into the mix. They'd talk about not being able to pay the electric, having the phone shut off, or losing the house.

Also, that house was pretty terrible. The carpets were disgusting, the paneling was poorly installed (crooked and badly cut) and filthy, there was no trim and no baseboards, and everything was dirty and flaking.

We got free lunches and had to use these plastic tokens with the words "FREE LUNCH" on them to "pay" so everybody knew we were the poor kids, but also from our clothes they knew. We were tormented and bullied every single day about one thing or another, but our clothes and poverty were steady targets. We got free government food (cheese, usually, but other things on occasion).

My mother couldn't buy our "good" clothes or shoes outright for school so she'd put them on "layaway" and make payments. Sometimes, she couldn't make the payments and would let the layaway lapse.

I think she liked to shop for nice, new clothes so she'd take part in this ritual of picking them out, having us try them on, and then laying them away only to not actually be able to buy them because she liked to shop. It was a nasty thing for us as we'd get our hopes up for nice things and then not get them a lot of the time. Most of our clothes were often from yard sales and really pretty horrible in terms of age/design.

Of course, we were also told all of the time that we couldn't afford things and when we "splurged", it was on the cheapest, poorest quality food/clothes. I don't think I ever had a brand-name product until I graduated from college and got my first job.

Username: [deleted]