But first, two things:
(1) People get surprised when I say I studied in public schools. They always assumed I grew up rich. I'm pretty sure it's not my face or my clothes that make me look wealthy. Maybe it's my vocabulary. Read enough and you get smart enough to make people believe you could afford the best education, I guess.
(2) I've never said or pretended I was rich. In fact, I tell people all the time I was poor, so much so that my husband reminds me now and then not to romanticize it. So I'll keep that in mind while I write this blog post.
So now for my story. Or stories. I have four.
#1
When Vince and I started dating, almost everyone in his world welcomed me. I was so relieved because he was, well, he doesn't like the word "rich" and prefers the term "comfortable." So let's just say Vince was very comfortable. He went to private schools, lived in a gated community of mansions, drove his own car, and flew off to destinations to ski and dive and shop and whatever it is comfortable people do.
I was nervous to meet his family because I didn't think I was good enough for him, but on our first date, Vince brought me to his house to meet his parents. His family treated me well from the very start. At that time, I thought it was evidence of their kindness. But looking back, I also think it was because Vince made it crystal clear that he was besotted with me.
As for his friends... Well, they were lovely, too, until this one time when they were drinking. Vince had excused himself to go to the loo and one of them told me, "Hey, Vince always pays for your dates, which is strange because aren't you a feminist?" Before I could explain that I have no money for Vince's expensive taste in everything so we agreed he pays if he insists on chi-chi restaurants over Jollibee, his other friend laughed, "She's not a feminist, she's a gold digger."
I usually have a comeback for everything but at that moment, I was so surprised that I couldn't think. And then Vince came back and everyone literally pretended nothing happened. I never mentioned it again but it was a little worm that fucked me up.
#2
Sometime later, a colleague who went to college with Vince stopped me in the corridor of our office. She said, "You know, I've always wondered: What do you and Vince talk about?"
"What do you mean?"
She tilted her head to one side and looked at my second-hand clothes I bought from eBay, "Well, you're obviously not part of our crowd."
A few months later, I accompanied my friend, Che, to a bridal fair at Shangri-la Hotel. While Che was chatting with suppliers, I wandered off to another booth where I bumped into my colleague. She looked at me, amused. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm with my friend. She's getting married."
"Oh! I thought you were thinking of getting married," she laughed.
I didn't like her laugh so I said, "Well, Vince and I have been together for a few years so I might as well look around."
And she smiled at me indulgently and sighed. "Oh, dear, do his parents know? I don't think they'll like... Do you really think Vince will marry...?" and then she looked at me from head to toe with her infuriating gentle smile. And I knew her unspoken words were ...someone like you?
"Is she bothering you?" Che spat out.
"No, I was just chatting with Frances. Bye!" And colleague left.
Che looked at me in disgust. "How could you allow her to talk to you like that?"
I allowed it because I believed it. Why indeed would he be with someone like me?
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| Spoiler alert: He married me anyway! |
#3
Many years later, I was definitely in a much better place. I was successful in my career, I was somebody now, and best of all, I knew Vince loved me.
But after our gorgeous wedding was splashed in the society pages of Inquirer and Wedding Essentials magazine, one of my father's friends said I did very well for myself. And then she got mad at Papa because she wasn't invited to my wedding and she told him, "Your daughter marries up and she's suddenly a snob." I wasn't a snob actually. I asked my parents for their guest list and she wasn't included in their list so it wasn't my fault.
But while I wasn't insecure about this shit anymore, a deep resentment surfaced. I did not marry up. I did not do well for myself by landing a comfortable man. We married as equals and I resented that people will never see me as his equal.
#4
I dragged Vince to the Esquire Ball as my date. At that time, Vince had been unemployed for a couple of years. I was making a lot of money so we decided that he can be the stay-at-home parent to our baby boys. At the party, he caught up with a few people. One of them asked, "So what are you doing now?"
Vince replied with no shame, just nonchalant confidence, "I'm a stay-at-home dad. I married a rich woman."
And all the guys at the table gaped at him in awe.
I will confess: his masculinity not being threatened at all and him just owning being a kept man like a boss made me drool.
What a man!
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| Blurry photos from the Esquire Ball with editor-in-chief Erwin Romulo |
I guess I wanted to tell these stories because I realize that some people will always think I'm a gold digger (to their credit and mine, his friends changed their minds about me). And maybe some people even admire me because I caught a catch.
Pfft. It should surprise them no end that in this marriage, it's my husband who thinks he's punching above his weight. He's always said he's the one who got lucky and that he's the one who married up.
Thanks, babe.
What people refuse to see is it's possible that someone like me who's lived with so little for so long has learned to do without the trappings of life and actually enjoy it. I don't like poverty, okay, but I love the simple life. It doesn't take much to make me happy, and that is what people don't understand. No one will ever have enough to offer someone who doesn't need material possessions.
Am I defensive? No. I'm just happy. Okay, maybe I'm defending my happiness? Maybe. I'm so happy. I literally have Php 7000 in my personal bank account and I'm happy. I'll tell you why and I will concede that Vince gave me this.
While Vince lived a much more comfortable life, it wasn't material wealth that made him so irresistible to me. I loved how intelligent he was and how he respected my brain. I loved how he was crazy about me because that is honestly such a huge confidence booster. I loved how he admired my sass but was quick to call out my bullshit. I loved how he urged me to have dreams and to go after them, pushing me all the time to dream bigger and do better. I loved how he made me believe I was worthy of all the world had to offer, and that he was not going to give them to me like some dashing prince rescuing the scullery maid.
And this no one ever really understands because it's not the stuff of fairy tales: Vince never offered me the moon and the stars because he believed in me enough to know I could get them all on my own. And his vision for me and my future was so bright, it dazzled even me.
Money is earned, money runs out, money can be stolen, but what I got from this relationship I will never lose. Vince may not have promised me material wealth, but he gave me something more precious: He gave me belief in myself.
So let's go back to that term. It amuses me now because this is corny but true: All the gold was inside me and Vince just helped me dig it out of me so I can be the shining star I am now.
Gold digger. Yeah. I'm redefining it and owning it.
Update, July 2024: I edited and rewrote this blog post for a competition and -good news! - it was a finalist in the Creative Non-Fiction Contest of Women on Writing.
