I’m mapping out – and eagerly awaiting – the moments when your financial burdens might dramatically reduce: the end of the car lease, when the mortgage is finally paid off, the day your daughter starts school, and planning how that money might be used to create an emergency fund (demolished when you bought your house and not yet recovered), invest in an Isa or boost your paltry pension.
I hope you can make your gym payment without feeling a pang of guilt, that you can invest time and money in a proper skincare routine, and I’d love it if you were able to travel a little, now that your children are older.
I’m embracing the preloved economy and buying most things secondhand, while selling the things I no longer want or need, so that you might have a little more money and a little less clutter.
If I’m honest, I’m a little frightened at how fast the time between writing and reading this letter will pass, and I hope that I’m doing enough to create the life that I want for you.
But the greatest gift that I want to give to you – and I really hope that it sticks – is that I am no longer going to spend your hard-earned money in order to please, appease or impress other people.
