Franco's Finances

I got my first paycheck at 19, unimpressive to most Americans, but seeing my account balance go up hit me like crack.

I’m 21 now, writing software and making decent money. I don’t pay rent or tuition — my parents cover that, a fact that I hold with more gratitude than I probably show out loud. What’s mine to manage is smaller: taxes, transportation, and the long, slightly embarrassing list of things I want.

And what I want, mostly, is to want things. So the principle behind everything is simple: be frugal with the boring stuff, so there’s room to be frivolous. I pack lunch instead of buying it. That alone frees up enough for a hangout most weeks, or something dumber.

Perhaps that principle traces back further than me, though. It’s Filipino, or at least it’s the version of frugal I grew up around — resourceful out of necessity, the kind that gets passed down whether or not the necessity comes with it. My family and I moved to the U.S. four years ago, and the biggest adjustment wasn’t the food or the weather, it was money — realizing that the instinct to squeeze value out of everything isn’t universal, it’s just what I happened to be raised with. I don’t think that makes one way better than the other. It’s just the lens I see spending through, for better or worse, and I doubt I’ll ever fully shake it.

Being a self-proclaimed nerd, a lot of the money I spend goes into anik-anik (trinkets in Filipino) — handhelds, Lego, and whatever else fits the category. None of it is practical. None of it needs to exist in my life. So I hold myself to one of two rules to make the impracticality forgivable: either never pay full price or make the purchase pay for itself. Most of my shit is either gifts or thrifted, and I like the hunting part almost more than the owning part. My favorite find so far: a 4K LG monitor from Goodwill for $20, tagged as broken because it wouldn’t turn on — turns out it just needed a Thunderbolt cable instead of the standard one it was missing. Guess price-gouging only works if you know what you’re selling. If a good deal just isn’t viable, then the purchase needs to recoup its own costs to let myself enjoy it guilt-free. I bought a point-and-shoot camera yesterday, and the research into that purchase turned up two more I could flip for close to what I’d spent. So the camera, in a sense, cost me nothing.

These rules have been broken more than a couple of times, and I’ve stopped pretending they won’t. Obviously, impulse or big purchases happen, and when they do, I don’t do the math first — no discount hunting, no negotiating, no research into whether it’s “worth it.” I used to feel guilty about that until I accepted that there are times you just can’t find a better deal, and that’s fine. You let it happen. You’ve done a good job on everything else. I’ve made peace with not needing every purchase to make sense.

My parents are the stereotypical frugal, maybe more so than most. My mom’s got grocery prices memorized so she can cross-check, and my dad’s got a master’s degree in Facebook Marketplace. Meanwhile we just got back from a two-month trip to the Philippines with side trips to Japan and Bangkok. I grew up watching both halves of that and never thought to question it until I started doing the same thing on a smaller scale, just with Nintendo instead of plane tickets. They also make sure I keep everything I earn, so I can actually save toward something real, a house someday, instead of just getting by month to month.

It’s a good problem to have — but I spend a lot of time pondering whether it means I’m maturing or just being coddled. Living at home is great, genuinely, but I wonder if money can actually buy you the essential stuff: the independence, the responsibility, the muscle of having to figure it out because nobody’s going to figure it out for you. I’ve never had to decide between groceries and a bill or sign a lease. My cousins and friends have, and they handle it, because they have to. Next to them I feel a little inferior. Sure, I have a paycheck and I can legally drink alcohol, but I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface.

Some of that unease is answered, at least a little, by the spending that isn’t about me at all. For the past couple of years, I’ve taken pride in finally being able to do things like treat my parents out to dinner or buy my friends nice gifts, and while none of those fit into the so-called “frugal rules” I set for myself, it’s some of the best money I’ve ever spent.

I feel lucky, honestly. Lucky enough to chase hobbies, wise enough to think past this year, and still young enough to have real room left to grow. I don’t have NYC apartment money yet, but I don’t experience that as a lack so much as the next thing on the list. Money was never the endgame for me. I’ve met the guys who want it all right now, the seed-round founders chasing seven figures. I get the appeal, and some days I wonder if I should want that more than I do. But I don’t think I’ve ever been happier than I am moving at my own pace, even if it means waiting for a free phone upgrade from Verizon instead of paying for one outright. What I actually want is to always have something ahead of me worth working toward, and to notice it getting closer. Right now, that’s enough. I’m excited to see where the next version of “enough” is.