Origins Story
My story began in the Philippines. I was the middle child in a family where my father was a seaman, and my mother was a CPA. Both of my parents came from very poor families. On my father’s side, my grandparents were fishermen, and none of his family members made it past the third grade. My father recounted how his parents discouraged school, saying it was pointless because they would end up as fishermen anyway. According to them, education wouldn’t change their fate.
On my mother’s side, my grandfather escaped poverty in China, leaving his family behind. When he arrived in the Philippines, he met my grandmother and worked various jobs in Manila’s Chinatown. They were impoverished as well, but my grandmother always emphasized the importance of education.
We called my grandmother “Nanay,” and even though she didn’t have much money, she worked multiple menial jobs to support her children. While it was common at the time for children to start working to help the family, she made sure her kids stayed in school and completed their education. Thanks to Nanay’s hard work, my mother and her siblings got an education and were able to pull themselves out of poverty. My mother graduated from college, even though she had to work full-time during the day and attend school at night.
“Utang Na Loob” – Helping Family, a Filipino Tradition
By the time my father was in his early twenties, he was already helping his parents and siblings financially. Fortunately, he landed a decent-paying job abroad, even though he only finished high school. So, when my parents met, they had already lifted themselves out of deep poverty and had good-paying jobs. I give a lot of credit to my mother for having a solid sense of financial management. By the time my eldest brother was born, they had already bought and built a house in Manila. Owning a house in the Philippines back then meant having the cash upfront—there was no such thing as a 15- or 30-year mortgage.
Despite their progress, my parents still had to financially help their families, especially on my father’s side, where they remained on the brink of poverty. I remember, as a child, it was a constant point of contention. My parents argued because nearly half of my father’s paycheck was sent to his parents and siblings.
Read more: The Struggle to Break Free from the Grip of Utang na Loob
Family Dynamics
Since my mother was the more educated parent, she became the default money manager of our household. I don’t remember my father ever making a financial decision; he let my mother handle what was bought or spent. For the most part, this worked well. My parents eventually left their jobs to start their own business, which grew into a thriving venture that provided us a comfortable childhood.
However, there were times when my parents still argued about money, mainly because my father’s family would intermittently ask for financial help. The sad part is that my father was a kind and giving person, but in the Philippines, the mentality is that you’re indebted to your family forever—even if your siblings are perfectly capable of working and supporting themselves.
An Idyllic Childhood
I grew up in a middle class household, thanks to my parents’ hard work and their decision to start a business rather than sticking to traditional jobs. My parents afforded all three of us private schooling from grade school through college, along with some perks that come with disposable income.
Our family operated a poultry store in the countryside, which my father managed while my mother handled the business finances and supplier relations. Ever since I can remember, my mother was very business-minded. She always told us, and anyone else who would listen, that if you want to become wealthy, you need to start a business. In her words, “If you continue to work for someone else, nothing is going to come of it financially.” And to be honest, she had a point, at least in the Philippines.
We weren’t wealthy, but my parents could afford to vacation abroad, particularly in the U.S., to visit my grandmother and aunt in Los Angeles every other summer. I even got to visit Disneyland when I was eight years old.
How My Parents, Especially My Mother, Shaped My View on Money
Even though my parents had disposable income and invested in properties in the Philippines, they remained frugal. I didn’t realize it when I was younger, but in grade school and high school, I often questioned why my weekly allowance couldn’t afford cafeteria food, and why I had to bring food from home. Meanwhile, my classmates could buy lunch from the cafeteria or nearby fast food places every day. I also noticed they always had brand-new clothes, while I wore second-hand clothes sent by my grandmother from the U.S.
What I didn’t understand at the time was that my parents never had to scramble to pay tuition fees or rent because we owned our house. Many of my classmates’ parents had to borrow money for these basic necessities. When I was young, my mom often said “no” to many things I wanted to buy.
It was ingrained in my parents’ behavior that money had to be allocated to what’s important first—education, food, housing, and necessities—before splurging on wants.
Making My Own Money as a Nurse in America
I never wanted to be a nurse, but in the Philippines, nursing school is practically a default choice, with the goal of working in America. So, I went along with it, and to be honest, I’m glad I did.
During nursing school, I dreamed of making a certain amount of dollars, multiplying it by the current exchange rate, imagining how much I’d have in pesos. Haha! As if I wouldn’t be spending money in dollars while living in the U.S. I imagined being able to buy whatever my heart desired when I finally became a nurse earning a gazillion dollars while working three jobs. Haha!
When I finally became an RN in the U.S., I believe my starting wage was $37 an hour in a nursing home back in 2009. My aunt, the OG nurse in the family, made me send my entire first paycheck to my mom as a sign of gratitude.
Yes, I spent a few hundred to maybe a thousand dollars on frivolous things—a designer bag, a trip, some makeup, and skincare products. However, because of my parents’ influence, it has always been hard for me to spend money on clothing. I still find it shocking that people regularly pay over $50 for clothes!
Influence from My Aunt, the OG Nurse
When I moved to Los Angeles, I lived with my aunt, who had been a nurse in the U.S. for 20-30 years. Like my mom, she was very frugal (maybe even more so) and financially savvy.
Financial literacy is not taught in the Philippines, and my parents never taught me how to manage money. They were just plain frugal. I guess their way of teaching us was by giving us a weekly allowance. I remember getting 600 pesos for the week in high school. I would blow most of it at the beginning of the week, living like a rich person, only to be poor for the rest of the week. Haha!
I’m very thankful that my aunt was persistent in teaching us the importance of saving and, most importantly, investing money. It might have been annoying at the time—because when you’re in your 20s, you just want to spend your hard-earned money on things you want—but I’m glad I heeded her advice and started contributing to my 401(k).
TL;DR
My parents came from poverty, pulled themselves up, and gave us a middle-class upbringing in the Philippines. They were frugal and had good financial sense. I pursued nursing in America to chase the dream of earning a gazillion dollars. Fortunately, I had people like my aunt, the OG nurse, who influenced me to save, invest, and, yes, embrace frugality.
