This is an instance from a recent happenings at our home and a reflection from that conversation. These are everyday conversations and interactions - but when we take a moment to pause, reflect and think deep enough - there is a deep rooted beliefs, psychology and intertwined hard relationships that one has had with the money is unveiled.
We have a property back in India that’s currently tenanted and ticking along. But lately, my parents have been growing more frustrated — the rent isn’t coming on time, and they’ve had to chase the tenant up regularly.
It’s become a bit of a chore, both physically and emotionally.
So, I did a homework - found a suitable property manager - worked out a suitable timing and suggested them a simple fix asking. “Can we hand it over to a property manager?”
Let them take care of the rent collection, handle the paperwork, increase the rent every 11 months, and do the hard conversations. It’s what they do for a living — they’d have the structure, the systems, and the emotional detachment that we don’t. My mom agreed at the initial conversation.
Mom — the financial decision-maker — initially agreed. I set up the process, introduced someone reliable to liaise with them, arranged for agreements to be drawn up.
It felt like things were moving.
But then came the pivot.
“It’s too expensive. We’ll continue to manage it ourselves.”
The conversation took a turn. It got a little muddied.
I’ll be honest — part of me felt a bit let down. We had lined things up to make life easier for them. It wasn’t about the money — it was about simplifying the mental and emotional burden.
But in that moment, a small lesson from The Psychology of Money came to mind:
“People make financial decisions based on their own lived experiences, not logic alone.”
And that changed my perspective.
What I Realised
My parents grew up in a time and system where control meant having your hands on everything — seeing it, touching it, being part of it. Delegating tasks, paying for convenience, trusting someone outside the family to deal with money? That’s not how they did things.
For them, managing it themselves isn’t a burden — it’s normal.
That sense of self-reliance, of caution, of wanting to keep things within the family — that’s not something they’re ready to let go of just yet. And maybe they never will.
So I said,
“It’s okay. We’ll continue the way we have. If and when the time comes, we can always revisit the idea.”
And I meant it.
But I could sense they were unsure if I really meant it. That maybe I was still holding a grudge. That maybe they had “disappointed” me.
I wasn’t. And they hadn’t. But I understood where that concern came from. Because money — even when we don’t mean it to be — can become a proxy for trust, control, care, and legacy.
What this taught me
This wasn’t about a tenant. Or a property. Or even a missed rent payment.
This was about how our past shapes our present view of money — and how sometimes, bridging generations requires patience, empathy, and time.
Sometimes, books and logic can give us answers. But relationships — especially with parents — don’t follow spreadsheets or calculators.
They follow history, emotion, and lived stories.
A question for you
Have you experienced something similar?
Where your ideas clashed with your parents’ approach to money — and you had to make peace not just with the what, but with why they think the way they do?
What beliefs, behaviours or habits around money do you now carry — and which of them are truly yours, and which ones were passed down?
Would love to hear how you’ve handled situations like these.
Sometimes, the biggest financial lessons aren’t in the numbers — they’re in the conversations we don’t always know how to have.