This, totally. I lived in halls at uni that were tiny and damp with a shared bathroom and kitchen covered in mould. When I moved into a 2 bed terrace with my now husband it was £70 a week (20 years ago!) it had dodgy electrics, a dodgy landlord, 1930s broken furniture and a mattress on the bed that had seen more action than a brothel. We could hear the mice scratching in the walls at night and we had to wash our clothes in the bath. At one point we shared a bowl of soup. It was tough but I was determined to pass my degree and get a good job.
I now earn a great wage, live in a lovely house and we are lucky to travel a lot. I do save but I spend a decent amount on trips, events, experiences and anything I think would make the kids happy, because that makes me happy. I don’t buy designer clothes or expensive things as things like that don’t make me any happier. It makes me sad that Jack has so many things - material things - but has never to my knowledge used a penny of her earnings to go to Harry Potter Studios or Disneyland or Tenerife or whatever. At no point has she invested in SB, made happy memories. She’s squandered every penny and every opportunity she’s had handed to her on a plate. Selfishly.
She’s never known struggle, not really. And that’s why she’s never really worked hard. Because it’s never been do or die.