I have been lucky in that the only really wealthy people I know are self-made wealthy people who live very very conservatively. Like turn off the lights when you go down the stairs conservatively.
And sure they can do stuff like buy two shoe stores or a farm or two Mini Coopers when they decide they want to. And yes, I had a really good time picking out a super nice sound system for them (it's fun spending other people's money!) so it's not as if they're miserly, but they also are extremely generous. They've given us literally tens of thousands of dollars over the years. They bought our lot for us to serve as collateral for our house build. (That was a fraught few months before our construction loan paid them off, I'll tell you what.) And we're only one of the many charitable works with which they are involved.
Anyway. They were good for us during the build insanity (do I need granite countertops? They don't have granite countertops.) because you can get really caught up in acceleration there. And they have been good for us in general, like, learning how to prioritize in budgeting and whatnot.
As far as the independently wealthy thing goes, I feel a little sad to discover in this conversation that being independently wealthy right now wouldn't solve any of my problems. It couldn't undo the tsunami. It couldn't reverse the damage to my father's health. It couldn't reduce the amount of abuse my students face.
I think about the only thing it would change is that I wouldn't have to do the summer fundraising camp gig that I'm so dreading. Which I guess says something really good about my life. I like my job, my house, my family. And I guess on a certain level, it's like when I was in seventh grade and I worked my way up to the popular table, got invited to the best parties, and then discovered those kids were all vapid and I was happier hanging out with my loser buddies.
Because we were making over $100 grand, and living in a $300/month apartment to boot. So the cash we had, it was disposable. And there was definitely stuff we loved about that, mostly to do with eating at the blues bar all the time. And we were paying off massive debts, so it wasn't all in pocket. But a lot of it was. I considered myself wealthy at that point.
But I was never so happy as when I walked away from it and was sitting on a dirt floor in the middle of the desert teaching a little girl how to knit, not even my job. So I guess I feel like being wealthy didn't buy me anything I wanted, except the ability to not make money. That next year I made $11,000. Deceptive again because I quit before the SO, and his salary was the bulk of it, and because housing was free for a while there. But still.
Today is different because we're living in a town, feeling like we're scrambling to make mortgage. But also we were able to pay taxes out of our emergency fund and some gear sales. (I realize Dave Ramsey says taxes are not an emergency because they come around every year, but he also says the govt is the last person I want to be indebted to.) So in a sense, even though we scramble and scrimp a lot, I feel more financially secure than ever, and more settled. Which is a weird spot to be in these days. Of course we know that everything is subject to loss. But right now, I feel better than I ever did drinking Guiness every night and going to concerts every weekend.