💥 Have f*ck you money 💥
That’s the best career advice I was ever given.
I was 20 something years old working in fashion editorial and my Devil Wears Prada boss was not treating me well. This wasn’t the first time, but she was very disrespectful of me, my life, my family, my friends, and my sleep. We were on a photo shoot and she was being AWFUL. I mean crying on the plane awful (over not flying first class). I mean out getting botox while I was packing up for the shoot awful. I mean not showing up on set because she was having a breakdown awful. And the way she treated me was clear to everyone on set, including the photographer who informed me that he would no longer work with her— he’d only finish the shoot if I was the one he was dealing with.
That night, the photo assistant and I ended up night swimming alone. She was maybe 2-3 years older which meant she had so much more life under her belt (I wasn’t even 25). She asked me, “how much money do you need to get through a few months without working? Do you have that much?”. I remember at the time working out that rent and bills would be about $3,000 for a few months (hey, I had a roommate but it was NYC in the 90’s). Did I have $3k?
Yes, I did.
“Then that’s your f*ck you money”, she said. If it’s enough money to live on while you look for other work, then it’s enough money for you to hold the power and say F You.
That spoke to me in SO many ways. And still does.
I thought long and hard on the flight back. I wasn’t hysterical or overreacting to being treated like crap in a full-time job I’d had for a few years. I wasn’t even scared to make such a big life change. This freed me. It reminded me that I was well educated, I came from a good family, I had a little money saved and that I lived within my means. It also reminded me that other people had wanted to hire me before, and they would again. I worked very hard. I was extremely reliable and very good at what I did. I was a fashion assistant, after all, and I was a fantastic— and happy to be doing it— schlepper (yup that is me in the pic schlepping a mannequin in a thong around NYC).
That Monday, I took myself up to human resources at Conde Nast, and I gave my notice. I didn’t go to my boss directly because I didn’t want to be apologized to, or even offered promises of kindness or more money. It wasn’t about any of that. It was about leaving on my terms, good terms.
If you work hard and save money for when you need it, you have freedom. I have used that freedom many times to move on from bad jobs, people and situations.
It’s one of the first times I’ve quit, but it’s not the last. Since then, I’ve always had f*ck you money.
Ladies, money=freedom. Say it with me, MONEY=FREEDOM.
As a Midlife Mom it rings true every day. And I hope I pass these learnings to my daughter. Financial freedom is everything.
