My parents immigrated to the United States from Japan in the mid-1970s. They believed wholeheartedly in the American Dream. They believed in a meritocracy for us where we would one day be rewarded for our hard work and studying. We would go to a good college, that would hopefully lead to a steady office job, that offered insurance and a 401k. Then, we would be able to get married, buy a house, have kids, and support them in their old age. That was their dream.
I, the loser daughter, was unable to carry out their dream before they died. It kills me everyday that I was not able to provide for them the way that they deserved.
I am a dilettante, a dabbler, a strictly surface type of gal, a master of none. I am overeducated and underemployed. I have no husband or children. I don’t own a car or a house. I live above my means in New York City.
Still directionless in my forties, I had to get real with the fact that I have no idea how I will support myself in the future. If I am unable to work because of sickness or am phased out of my job because of my age or because of advancing technology; I am sh*t out of luck.
Compared to most people in the world, I am extremely privileged and have no right to be complaining about my failure to live up to the American Dream. The very fact that I have the time to contemplate this and write about it on a blog means that I have more than everything that I need in this world. But being financially secure is still something I very much want to pursue. So much so that I started my own business last year, luckybaglove.com.