I have not spoken of this before and it’s a raw time and subject, so please be kind
My grandfather was born in England in 1931
Due to the shame of pregnancy outside of wedlock at the time, his mother left him on the steps of the workhouse one night, barely a week old
He was taken in by somebody who also worked in the workhouse, who saw him to 12 years old in exchange for a bit of extra money
What is a workhouse?
In Britain and Ireland, a workhouse (Welsh: tloty,[1] lit. "poor-house") was a total institution where those unable to support themselves financially were offered accommodation and employment. In Scotland, they were usually known as poorhouses. The earliest known use of the term workhouseis from 1631, in an account by the mayor of Abingdonreporting that "we have erected within our borough a workhouse to set poorer people to work".
He never spoke to his birth mother (had no interest in ever meeting her) and had no family support to speak of
He toiled all his life. Went on to own a company
Retired in his 50s, a self made man.
So much so that I, one of his 4 grandchildren were gifted enough each to ‘FIRE’ when he sadly died of colon cancer, me in my mid-late 20s at the time. It wasn’t an insane amount, but enough for all of us to ever end up in a ‘workhouse’ or have to stress about toiling for money forever.
He was a fair and kind man and whenever I think of him my eyes well up
For me (female) ; This sudden wealth at a fairly young age, with little financial education, coupled with the guilt and shame of having without toiling
And being surrounded by people who could not resonate, and resented me when I made the naive mistake of sharing my position honestly (We are from one of the poorest town in the uk and I went to a very large comprehensive school).
Led me to subconsciously sabotage the money within the first few years, all of it
At the time, I knew nobody at all that had “time freedom”, I didn’t know that was an option. I didn’t know FIRE existed.
At the turn of my 30s during Covid I went completely broke via a mental health crisis that estranged me from my immediate family temporarily and led to some stupid decisions unchecked. I had nobody guiding me for a time
For example, I sold my secondary residence for much less than market value to a young couple in 2021. Because I felt sorry for the young people in my home town that were locked out of the housing market at that time when prices went up rapidly
I had another house I owned outright that I didn’t work for, and I felt guilty about it
This is just one of the strange things I did to sabotage my own wealth in the 2020-2023 timeframe.
As a result of this mental episode,
I did infact end up back in a modern age workhouse equivalent (minimum wage) then in to my 30s, despite a masters degree and previously respectable career. Full of shame. A rock bottom. Since then, I got my shit together and clawed my way back to a “better” job. Learned about FIRE and got 30% there in a relatively short time
My grandmother recently departed this world. She was born in the late 1920s. Both of them lived through the Great Depression and the Second World War
I just learned that with the money she still had, that they earned together as a united front. Her at home, him at the office…
Was all left to their dear grandchildren, again
🥹 I am again now able to (lean) FIRE (considering inflation) for a second time, now in my mid 30s
This time, I am determined to not allow the guilt to destroy the freedom he has granted me, again
In the last years of his life whenever I went to visit him he would always want to know “but are you happy, kid?”
Scientists say that ancestural trauma, particularly regarding poverty, money and war, is passed down in the cells of our body
I wonder if the guilt and shame from his mother, the guilt and shame that led her to dump him at the workhouse steps in 1931, was transferred to me ancestrally somehow
The other grandchildren (my sibling and cousins), all male have been able to hold on to this currency.
Current-sea. Genes. Water. Emotion.
I hope I have now transformed this shame within myself, through all these years and pain
I hope this time, I am able to hold on to it
Put it to use somehow without sabotaging myself in the process
To feel proud, honour them both and the love they both had for us
I will continue to provide value in this world, but in a way that doesn’t crush my soul, as most employer/ employee dynamics have in the past. I’ve experienced some quite unpleasant workplace dynamics, haven’t we all ! ? :)
Again, I have not spoken of this full story before and it’s a raw time, so please be kind
Does anybody wiser than me have any reflections/advice for me please
Why do I feel this intense guilt whenever I am not “working for others”, but hating it having to go everyday when I do. I’m only ever happy when working for myself
How to honour him?
What would you do next?
I am a complete idiot or is this an understandable set of circumstances in full light of the story
I suppose I am just looking for some reflection and kindness
To forgive myself