Life on my side of the fence...
Well, while we're on the subject let's talk a little more about it... If you don't want to read this please leave now.
My father came from nothing - less than nothing actually. Flea ridden bed shared with his sister and a large mongrel dog called Charlie. His mother, my Nana was a stunning Welsh Witch who wanted to be a film star. His father drank 6 pints a night and was 7 stone ringing wet because he never ate (none of them did unless the bakers had left-overs). Both my grandparents died of various cancers in their early 60's and I barely remember them. Apparently my mother says that they didn't like me much.
Anyway.... This poor past plus the death of his twin (like Elvis) gave my dad a massive desire not exactly to succeed but to be safe and to keep his family safe and the only way he knew how to do this was through money.
A naturally talented designer his story is probably from the outside at least the feel good tale of the year and by the time he retired last year he had his own business and was the most successful and well respected man in his field.
Was he right to work this hard? I don't know. I know that I never saw him when I was little and he was just a man with a suitcase full of chocolate and I would swap it for time with him in a snap.
I was still little when things started to change. One year my parents couldn't afford a tape player (true) and then suddenly the next we were all going to Disney World. I didn't know what it meant really because my mums rules meant it didn't hugely effect me.
I always had a Saturday job to pay for clothes, holidays and presents and I always went to comprehensive school. When I applied to Uni I honestly thought I would get a grant - so sheltered was I from where out family had ended up.
Now in real terms what does being a millionaires daughter mean? Well... I panic less than my friends. Even though they DON'T help I know my parents would if I were between jobs or had a crsisi. I have a safety net and I am probabaly the only 27 year old without a mortgage but with a house. Still, they do make me pay rent oddly enough.... Just to keep me real.
I don't get car's for Christmas (last year I got a bottle of perfume) and I don't have platinum cards stuffed in my Gucci purse.
What I do have though is a feeling that I have been given a chance to do so much and I am so lucky that I am in a constant state of hyper-panic that I am not taking full advantage of my lot. That is why I married in Vegas, went on reality TV and get drunk on champagne. That is why I can sometimes appear a shallow little space cadet. Fear that I am wasting something great. Which ironically makes me waste it even more.
So, does it effect me?
Yes Hugely. That is why I started blogging to try and make sense of things.
Would I give it up?
No, I haven't got the guts and I'm proud of my father, so I'm proud of his money
Where would I be without it?
I'd love to know... Either in a boring dead-end job wishing my life away or ruling the world because I couldn't bare to be ordinary....?
But most likely I'd be exactly where I am right now.
Cheers
D x x
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(3.11.03 18:05) I agree that you would be where you are now. If you have a propensity to be fabulous then money or background will have no effect on that :-) Kate x |
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(3.11.03 18:08) x x |
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(3.11.03 18:14) Well said. One of my closest friends at Uni was a millionaire's daughter from Bristol. Yet she was the most down-to-earth girl I've ever met. There were others who came from 'middle class' (I say middle class, but you know the ones where they have some money, and think they owed respect) backgrounds, who were so stuck up their arses they used to wear thongs to floss their teeth (sorry!). Anyway, I met her parents (who were both Welsh, and her dad was a self made man in the building trade, they were both so nice to me, and especially being from the mother-land, we had a lot in common. I remember her dad buying her a new car every 2 years, and lending her money when she was broke. Yet when she left Uni, she had to go out and forge her own career. I think what people forget is that if you're a millionaire's child (especially a self made millionaire)then although there will be back up if you need it, you're still have to live on your own 2 feet, and the expectation to do so, makes it harder, then it does for me, who came from a poor background, as every success I have is unfounded in my family, so the pressure isn't as high. xxx AB |
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(3.11.03 18:14) Money doesn't guarantee anything, but you are lucky to have that security. My dad's not a millionaire, but I was lucky enough that he gave me my dowry when I split up with my ex, which has meant that for the last few months I have been able to indulge my retail therapy needs, treat my closest friends to a trip to New York, get myself a car and end up truly independent. I feel guilty for not having more to show for the money, but then I know it helped me through the break up. Felt a momentary pang the other day when my dad asked if I needed help financially, if I was in debt.... I too had a crappy relationship with my father, and we are both trying to make amends now... we have an understanding. You are a fabulous person, and don't strike me as any more shallow, or in search of something than the next 27 year old. And you're not too late to realise it, either! |
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(3.11.03 18:32) Daisy, I've been following your entries today with a great deal of interest. I don't want to get into some sort of "I came from a poorer background than you did" sort of thing - however can relate to the early days of your background - the poverty and, to some extent, the benign neglect you suffered from your family. What I would like to say to you is that you are clearly a talented, intelligent and, dare I say beautiful, young woman (I remember the photograph from your early blog days). You have all these qualities and the world is at your feet - you can (and very often do) make things happen for yourself. It's time for you to be proactive rather than reactive - and I'm sorry if this sounds like a bad american psychology show. Casual sex isn't wrong but beating yourself up about it later is. You are what you are - yes, we carry our childhood into adulthood, we can take the Jesuit theme of give me the first seven years etc etc....but you are in control of your life now, Daisy. You are the adult - the fact that you are the daughter of a millionaire is not important - really it isn't. I am the daughter of an immigrant refugee - it doesn't define my life. I'm sorry if this sounds tetchy - it's not meant to. It's meant to tell you that other people like you - so you can begin by liking yourself more too. edit: for instance, you aren't a slut - don't apologise for casual sex - not unless it was very poor sex. and even then it takes two. HJB |
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lost_vagueness (3.11.03 19:21) Daisy, just wanted to say firstly that blog is a great read. But also more particularly to say that your story of your family reminds me very much of my growing up in the world. Will probably narrate this in more detail at another but am actually suppossed to be working very hard...damn tata Chris |
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(3.11.03 19:40) Damned if you do, damned if you don't. Tell people things about yourself that is. You could have told the first casual sex story in exactly the same words that you did, except you could have just omitted to mention your background and there would have been some jackass demanding to know WHY it wouldn't have worked out. Wrong place to go into this now, but I am a pre-op transsexual and once, found (and founded!) a lovely little community on the web. We chatted, we laughed, we had fun. Only my best 'internet' friend at the the time knew my 'secret'. Unbeknown to me she told her then boyfriend during pillow talk. Well, as these things are wont to happen, she split up with boyfriend, boyfriend decided to get some 'revenge', by outing me in a public forum on our own website and all hell broke loose. Moral of the tale? There isn't one -unless damned if you do, damned if you don't is a moral. Hang on, can you have a moral singular?  Anyway, this is YOUR blog, YOUR thoughts, YOUR life. I know it's hard not to react to criticism, no matter how unjustified it is, but trying to explain yourself to people who don't understand is such a mentally sapping exercise. At the end of it you never feel as if you've done yourself justice anyway! Keep on writing hon. Keep on being honest. It is a privilege to have an insight into your life. If anybody ever questions what you say, just ignore the wankers! Take care hon, hugs 'n' stuff... Chloe x |
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(3.11.03 19:56) You shouldn't have to justify what you wrote earlier Daise. I grew up with nothing but was never greatly aware of it (due to my dad's hard graft) but from what i've read of your excellent blog we share a lot of the same hopes, fears and dreams! I grew up with people who had nothing and went to uni with some people who had everything and it only makes a difference to those who are preoccupied with their own self-importance, a trait which you haven't displayed. All in all, you're proud of your dad (and rightly so!) and obviously haven't let the money define you as a person. You're doing that for yourself and bloody good on you!! V xxxxx |
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(3.11.03 23:01) "She's just Daisy from the block" |
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(3.11.03 23:27) Daise. I have similar tendencies, if not worse. I will not even consider a boyfriend that is not of equal intelligence. Daddy bails me out (and yours doesn't). I am generally hateful spoilt and judgemental. I cannot abide people who do not spell correctly in texts. I spell badly by mistake, occasionally abbreviate to save space. None of the above and none of what you have written today make a bad person. Just a flawed person. And wouldn't we be dull dull dull without flaws? Respec' xxxxxxxxx |
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(4.11.03 01:35) When I was 18, a friend from a very wealthy background was in a car accident and had his new Porsche written off. While not his fault, he did regale my dad with details of the incident whereupon he referred to the guy who hit him as a 'beer swilling middle class lout'. Now, much like Australia, Zimbabwe is founded on a middle class system (pioneer not convict) so making this comment was profanely ignorant, simply naive and particularly offensive to people who had worked hard for their success. My dad who is the most reserved person I know couldn't mask his contempt for the comment and suggested that my friend spend a humbling period in the army to remove his head from his arse. The point of my story is the fact that with a bit of money he had never earned, he thought he was better than everyone else. Its easily done but money doesn't buy class, deeds do and I know people from the hunblest of backgrounds who act with more class and dignity than some of the wealthiest people I know. Personally, I've had an unbelievably comfortable life thus far not wanting for anything so I know I'm probably one to talk but to me, class is not about telling people what you've got, its about quietly making a difference and appreciating your good fortune without the promise of recognition. People DO notice and respect you more for it. |
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(4.11.03 10:32) Guys, as ever your understanding of me and insight into my head has been a pleasure to read and an honour to receive. X x PS Chloe - I'm on my way over to visit... |
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(4.11.03 11:52) Daisy, I think you're very brave to talk about your family background like this because people do cop a lot of flack for being members of wealthy families. I have a millionaire in my family. He is a complete arse and does not use his wealth in the way he should - to benefit his immediate family (and I'm certainly not talking about me or my parents - I'm talking about his own mother). This person dislikes me to the point of boycotting my wedding - he dislikes me because I have made something decent out of my life and for a time, when I was in the music buisness, I was eating at the same restaurants and moving in similar circles to him. His children have stayed up North - in my opinion doing great jobs and getting on with life - in his opinion, failures. And that's why he hates me. There was only room for one success story in our family, in his mind. The nicest thing about having working class parents who don't have oodles of cash, is that when I'm doing really well the roles reverse. I can always rely on them for emotional security and support, but financially, the tables have turned a bit and now I can treat them and they can turn to me for help. I have done brilliant things like taking my mum to a spa for the first time and sending her on a trip to Rome - one of her dreams. Stuff she'd never done before and probably would never have been able to do if I hadn't sorted it out. I consider myself incredibly lucky to have been able to give that to my parents and I guess although we struggled a lot when I was a kid, if I was a millionaire's daughter I never would have got those chances. So it's all swings and roundabouts - but the main thing is that you love your folks and can count on them. JoJo xx |
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(4.11.03 11:59) Cheers Jojo. I didn't actually mean to pour my heart out but a couple of comments on an earlier entry got me a little riled. Nobody can help where they are from, all we can do is be the nicest people we can with the lots we are dealt (unlike your family member - arse!). I do wonder how I would be different if my family were different. My father often cups my face and says 'money spoils things, it's not what I thought it would be'. But then - few things ever are. Thanks again for your comment. It's been really interesting to see the debate this as sparked as its not even been based on an opinion of mine its just a fact... It would have been easy to delete the throw away comment I made earlier but I want to have the courage of my convictions and remain true to the person I am. D x x |
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(4.11.03 15:00) hjb... I somehow think you will like my best friends poems. let me know. X http://www.20six.co.uk/weblogCategory/1izjvzkcwzocp |