I Was Sad That My Kids Became Financially Independent

It took away part of my identity as the provider

We have three children; two daughters, and a son. After our third child, our son, we decided to become a one-income family. Old-fashioned, but it worked for us. We were able to do it by living within our means, without the unnecessities of life. I provided the finances while my wife tended to make our house a home.

Being the provider was part of my identity. I enjoyed my role. I didn’t necessarily enjoy working but I felt like a man, providing for my family. It was something I wanted to do and I wanted to do it well.

I was the bank.

I took it to heart that we couldn’t do something as a family because we couldn’t afford it. At one point I took a second job so we could have more money in the home. That didn’t last long because I couldn’t help the kids with their homework or go to their events because I was too tired or unavailable. I didn’t want to lose that part of my identity, being a present dad.

Our kids never got an allowance. If there was something they wanted, they would ask. If we agreed they could have it, and we could afford it, they would get it. If not, they wouldn’t.

Our oldest got a job.

Our roles changed to helping her how to handle money. We taught her to save some, give some, enjoy some. She was receptive to our teachings and did very well with her wages. So well that her requests for money from daddy diminished.

I was proud of her. Who wouldn’t be? It’s funny how we teach our kids to be independent, then are surprised when they are.

I still had two other kids making requests upon my wallet so it didn’t bother me that I was losing one. Obviously, I was still providing for food and shelter; clothing no longer was my responsibility. She was quite happy to buy her own, with no restrictions as to when she could make the purchase.

It started hitting me when the other two started working as well.

When they were growing up I always told them, in fun, that if I bought it, it’s mine. Even if it was bought for you, it’s still mine and I can take it away. Now that they used their own money they would needle me that it’s theirs now because they spent their own money. So I switched to if it’s in my house, it’s mine. I still own everything.

You’d think I’d be happy that I was keeping more of my money. I would have been if I was. For whatever reason, my wallet was still empty.

Wife? She probably won’t read this so I’m safe.

My work benefits were still keeping me relevant.

They were great with full dental, drug, vision, and other medical benefits. That too would come to an end.

When my oldest daughter was 20 years old, I had to remove her as a dependant. She had married, and another man would be adding her to his benefits package. I didn’t expect the extent of the emotion I had. Maybe I should have. When I sat at my computer and deleted her from my list of dependents, this 49-year-old man at the time shed a tear. It was like a chapter had closed. One down, two to go.

My second daughter’s ineligibility crept up on me. I had to look up the terms to ensure that I could no longer make claims on her behalf. Again, this was a sad day. It took me a while to remove her from the dependent list. I kept her on the list three years past the due date and saw it every time I made claims for myself, my wife, or my son.

I took my son off last year. I had prepared myself for the inevitability of the occasion so I was ready. There were no tears. Just a defeated sigh.

I’m proud of my children.

They’ve grown into fine, financially independent adults. Now my children depend on me for more important provisions than financial support. I love it when they call asking for advice, or to share a win, or just to talk.

I’m not just a man. I’m their daddy.