THE BENEFITS OF GROWING UP SKINT!
The other day I was musing about how I rarely get sick, or have never been seriously ill, and I surmised it was because of this reason:
I grew up as a child on a council estate in the 1980s… so my immune system is pretty much immortal!
It seems being mainly outdoors as a child, with no fussing over a bit of muck or dirt, is a good way of building up strong immunity.
But it got me thinking…
What are the other benefits do you think you have gained from growing up with little money?
Here is a list of ways I believe I benefitted from growing up skint!
RESOURCEFUL
You made do with what you had, and you made your own entertainment. In my case this included making rose petal perfume, creating my own library out of my books, a VIP Halloween party in my bedroom, and I have particularly fond memories of making mixtapes by taping songs off the radio and MC-ing to them.
These cassette tapes, Kelly’s Funky Jazzy mixtapes, volumes 1-20odd might be worth a fortune one day! 
And my mate’s keyboard playing and singing is particularly entertaining!
YOU LOOK AFTER YOUR STUFF
Because you didn’t have much, you looked after the stuff you had.
This explains why thirty plus years later I still have many things in near-immaculate condition: my Beano annuals and Enid Blyton books, I have decades-old clothes and trainers, various toys and wrestling figures (and don’t say you wouldn’t have arranged them in order of your favourites for the photo either! )
But even now it’s engrained in me to look after things well.
But these dancing flowers are worth a pretty penny on Ebay!
NOT EASY TO SHOCK
“Interesting” things happened on streets where there was council housing… burglaries, fights and disputes, screaming and shouting, clothes and belongings being thrown out of windows, people shoved out of doors… all good entertainment, and excellent for building up a tough skin of unshockable resilience!
An 80s fake Jerry Lee!
FRIENDLY AND SOCIABLE
Everybody knew everybody on the street, and most people were helpful if they could be. Like the time I accidentally stuck a wallpaper scraper in my forehead, and our elderly neighbours Betsy and Laurie helped my panicking mother sort out my bloodied forehead mess (look for the scar above my eyebrow – Harry Potter clearly copied me! )
Top tip: don’t give children sharp tools, folks…
Or in fact, don’t give me tools at all; I can’t be trusted not to hurt myself with them!
And I LOVED that cap!
GOOD WITH MONEY AND BUDGETING
When you have very little money, you have to learn to manage it well. So budgeting becomes a key skill you acquire, because you know your money must last. It means you don’t ever waste money on poor value items.
Earlier this month, I was utterly horrified to watch my friend get ripped off at the ice cream man, £4.50 for a cone! 
Not in our day: a great value ice cream from Mr Rossi cost just 25p.
Or if money was tight that week you were told, “NO, get a choc ice out of your freezer” 
CAN SPOT A NONCE A MILE OFF / GOOD GUT INSTINCT.
This is a very strange and peculiar spidey sense I have developed since childhood. Not least because we were clearly told: “Keep away from the nonce at number 37” etc.
It was common knowledge to everyone locally who all the paedophiles were and where they lived, and thus was totally acceptable to talk freely about them / warn children to avoid them when you saw them.
This in turn meant you learnt to see and recognise bad people and sense things about them. I think they have a strangeness and a particular ‘look’ about them – and it’s not just because they wear a particular style of spectacles, known in the 80s as paedo glasses.
Anyway my point is this: it meant I developed a real good gut instinct about people. And not just if they’re a wretch child molester. I can tell when something’s not quite right with someone, or even if they are feeling bad / sad / not quite themselves, on a particular day. Weird, eh?!
CHEERY, AND MAKE THE BEST OF THINGS.
You had little, you might have been skint, hungry, lacking in the latest toys, and wearing second hand clothes – but you got on with it. There was no point dwelling on what a terrible lifestyle you had or how bad luck the hand you were dealt was – so you might as well make the most of it, no matter how dire the situation.
For me, this meant skating down the house ginnel in roller skates singing “Just one Cornettooooo” or failing badly trying to master a pogo stick – and the day my mate’s mum got a large paddling pool from a catalogue was like jackpot!
And absolutely sweet threads for the kids in the 80s!
Also:
MANY HOURS OF INDEPENDENCE AND CONFIDENCE BUILDING
Toodling along on my little scooter with my mate on his BMX around the village. Yes, we were free to roam the entire village; no soft namby-pamby, mollycoddling, don’t-leave-my-sight helicopter parenting in the 80s – you just had to make sure you were back home when the street lights came on! Great for pushing your own bravery levels and comfort zones!
We would explore the village, and also deliver newspapers to all the posh houses, me in awe at how much bigger and nicer they were than ours.
(Must have subconsciously made it my mission in life to one day own a bunch of houses!)
SEE MUMMY, THE MAN SAID SO!!
This has given me possibly the biggest benefit of all:
A GOOD WORK ETHIC, GRATITUDE AND APPRECIATION.
I appreciate everything, because I still remember what it means to have nothing.
Now I am (supposedly!) a grown adult, and a comfortable homeowner with my own business, I don’t ever forget my roots, or where I came from – nor am I ashamed of it.
Although I was embarrassed at the time, being one of the very few minority kids in Drighlington Juniors from the few council house streets that were on free school meals – and I think that burning shame sticks with you and spurs you on to do better.
I believe if you were born poor, it’s not your fault.
But if you die poor, that’s entirely your fault.
So I’ve worked hard to escape that poverty trap.
And in an interesting twist of fate, a large percentage of my rental houses are ex-council houses, meaning the previous owners have likely bought them through the Council’s right to buy scheme.
So I buy them and then often house families who have been on the council housing waiting list many years… because the council now doesn’t have enough council housing to house low-income families.
Ironic, eh?!
So on the whole, I think I’ve developed many benefits of growing up with little money.
And yes, I can only imagine that privilege is good – but graft is better 
I’ll leave you with one final amusing anecdote of childhood life in the 80s:
Sunday night bath, then drying off in front of the gas fire in your nightie, watching Bullseye on the telly.
…ONE BATH A WEEK?!?
WHAT WAS ALL THAT ABOUT?!?
Make no wonder my immune system’s bulletproof! 
