No Money, So Many Problems

A story of struggle, help, and hope.

Photo by Josh Appel on Unsplash

I remember being ten or eleven years old the Summer Notorious B.I.G.’s “Mo Money Mo Problems” took over the radio waves sometime shortly thereafter the rapper’s death. The music video took over MTV, BET, and any other TV station that played such.

And I remember being perplexed by the title, thinking to myself — I want those kinds of problems. The kind that massive amounts of money, fortune and fame bring. The shiny ones, that you solved with, well, more money. Because they seemed favorable to the kind of the polar opposite — the kind that being dead broke without a dollar to your name bring. Though I’ve never had a rapper level of money or anywhere close to it, I’ve made enough money throughout different periods of my life to at least have an understanding of what Biggie meant. You become of a certain age, and gain certain understandings.

I imagine having millions of dollars brings with it the kind of problems, where all of the people close to you, and probably even a bunch of people who aren’t and never were or will be, expect you to just give them money. You have it, they don’t. In fact you have more than you need, and they have less than they need. In turn, some people will no doubt feel entitled or owed what is rightfully yours and not theirs.

Call me crazy but I still find that position favorable to being the broke one without a dime to their name who feels entitled to what isn’t theirs. Not because they’re bad people, but because they’ve spent so long between a rock and a hard place they call it home and are determined to change residences as soon as possible, by any means necessary.

I say this because, you can tell people no. However, you’re also in a position to help any of those you feel are worth helping, or just want to help. That’s far favorable in my eyes, to being the one who needs help because they have nothing and nobody to turn to. Of being so broke and desperate, you become willing to do what you’d rather not for a buck.

Lord knows I’ve been there. I’m close to there now. Far closer to needing help than being in a position where I can financially help others. But, the thing is, I know it won’t last. Not if I don’t allow it to. Not if I take consistent action to change that…