Did you think you were poor growing up?

Definitely not poor, but until we moved south and my parents bought their house, I thought we were poor before then, I didn’t realise they were saving, so we lived economically.
We moved, few carpets, but had parquet flooring in the hall, my Mum loved that floor and kept it so well.
Dad did have a car and in my very early teens their financial situation improved marginally and continued to do so.
I remember my Mum having screaming nightmares for a good while, I found out when I was a lot older it was financial pressures.

Sorry, one lower than working class.
I should have proof read, but I'm watching Murder on the Orient Express!

Bridget park
It’s always with me, I wish it wasn’t…I’m a glass half empty.

JaneJudge

I think some people/MPs are proud of being working class which I think is different from being poor or living in poverty

But they often seek to go one lower than middle class to make them sound hard done by.
For example, the Education Secretary, Bridget Phillipson, droned on about how she was bullied at school because she was poor, how parents didn't want their children to come and play at her house because it wasn't great. Apparently it turns out she wasn't exactly poverty-stricken as she makes out as a child.

We didn't have a car or a TV, but my parents were buying their house and we used to manage a week's holiday by the sea every year. After my grandfather died we moved in with my grandmother and sold our house. It meant we now had a car and could hire a TV, but things like uniform when I went to grammar school were still a stretch.

I think some people/MPs are proud of being working class which I think is different from being poor or living in poverty

Sheebeel, I had similar experience. 10 of us children, no money although Dad did work most of the time. But they were feckless and selfish, at the pub every weekend, not worrying about anything us kids would need. Mom got a part time job as an auxilliary nurse. She needed something away from the house, but it didn't mean any extra money for meals or clothes. I have mentioned on other threads before, I loved them, but cannot forgive them for the shame and humiliation we faced every day. We did not realise at the time, that we were the talk of the nieghbourhood, for all the wrong reasons. What would it have cost them to at least make sure we were clean when we left the house, cleaned our teeth and had clean clothes? But half of us have gone on to have meaningful careers, and a good standard of living.
So my beloved three children had a warm safe nurturing upbringing, and I am very proud of the adults they have become. But it is horrible remembering the things we didn't have and the poverty we endured. But as adults we are close, and that is truly wonderful and rewarding.

The wealthiest home you can have, beyond the very basics, is one where steady, warm, love and as near unconditional acceptance as reasonable, rooted ideally in an extended family or long loving friendships.

And a desire, by parents, without envy, for their children to thrive, even if you have only managed some of your own life's goals.

Those are the greatest riches.

I’m from a large family of 16 children. I grew up in grinding poverty, dirty, smelly house, never had clean bedlinen, four to a bed and one of the children would inevitably wet the bed so there was a dip in the mattress. I went to school religiously because that’s where I got a hot meal. An older brother suffered severe mental illness, but lived at home. It was total chaos. Most of my sisters got pregnant and married young - and are now on 2nd/3rd marriages. Incest/sexual abuse was the norm. You have no idea about poverty unless you’ve lived it. My parents were totally irresponsible - my father was born in the last year of the 19th century and my mother was born in the 20s. I can’t change my childhood memories. I’ve absolutely made sure my children were loved, well cared for and most of all received a good education.

I was one of eight children one died at 18mths. We lived in my grans back parlour in a terraced house in Liverpool and all of us parents included slept in one room. We moved into a four bedroomed newly built council house on an estate when I was 5yrs old. It was like a mansion to us in the middle of farmland on the outskirts of Liverpool.
My dad worked in the local factory and my mum worked little jobs for extra money. It was a tough upbringing but our parents tried their best we really did appreciate them.

Oldnproud

We were neither rich nor poor - probably pretty average if I think back to my childhood friends and classmates.

My father had grown up in poverty. His parents who had been comfortably wealthy before the great depression but the depression put paid to that, and they failed to adapt to their changed circumstances. My grandfather's various 'ventures' all failed.
Then Dad's mum died suddenly when he was 15, making things even more difficult, especially after his dad quickly remarried and he had to start supporting himself.

Luckily, my dad managed to pull himself out of that, working both day and night at times in the early years of his and my mother's marriage. I think his childhood experiences were what spurred him on, not wanting to repeat his parents mistakes.

Mum and Dad managed to buy a modest new house in the mid '60s, which they slowly improved over the years, adding a small extension, and central heating in the '70s.
We had a week's holiday at the seaside every year, and days out at the weekend sometimes, and we were always well dressed and fed.

I realise now that they had it tough at times, but they were never extravagant and always pulled through, with my mum always having a part time job too once I was in school.

I do remember when I was at secondary school that there was going to be a skiing trip one year, but it cost what seemed to me so much money that I did not even consider asking my parents if I could go. That didn't make me feel poor, as it was only a tiny number of pupils from our state school who ever mention such trips.

That last sentence should say "who ever went on such trips", not mention

We probably were poor when I think about it. My dad worked a menial factory job, mum stayed at home. I was one of four. Loads of aunts, uncles, cousins lived nearby. Clothes were handmade or passed down the family. We grew our own vegetables. Holidays were a week in a caravan loaned by a family member and also the same with a car. No colour tv for many years. A big event when a twin tub washing machine was bought on HP. My dad bought his first car when I was 20. Every purchase was carefully considered. Money was very tight.

We were neither rich nor poor - probably pretty average if I think back to my childhood friends and classmates.

My father had grown up in poverty. His parents who had been comfortably wealthy before the great depression but the depression put paid to that, and they failed to adapt to their changed circumstances. My grandfather's various 'ventures' all failed.
Then Dad's mum died suddenly when he was 15, making things even more difficult, especially after his dad quickly remarried and he had to start supporting himself.

Luckily, my dad managed to pull himself out of that, working both day and night at times in the early years of his and my mother's marriage. I think his childhood experiences were what spurred him on, not wanting to repeat his parents mistakes.

Mum and Dad managed to buy a modest new house in the mid '60s, which they slowly improved over the years, adding a small extension, and central heating in the '70s.
We had a week's holiday at the seaside every year, and days out at the weekend sometimes, and we were always well dressed and fed.

I realise now that they had it tough at times, but they were never extravagant and always pulled through, with my mum always having a part time job too once I was in school.

I do remember when I was at secondary school that there was going to be a skiing trip one year, but it cost what seemed to me so much money that I did not even consider asking my parents if I could go. That didn't make me feel poor, as it was only a tiny number of pupils from our state school who ever mention such trips.

Money was tight in my early years. I was aware we had our own house, a semi, without central heating, but of course that was an absolute luxury back then as were fitted carpets which we also didn't have. I was aware we had a mortgage, my dad worked in a managerial capacity for the Gas Board. My mother felt we didn't have any nice furniture, in fact she didn't think we had nice anything much. I think most of it was hand me downs plus there was much carping about new school shoes that my father felt had to be replaced far too often. I didn't have a lot of new clothes, I mean hardly any clothes at all really compared to what children have today. Mine were mostly hand me downs from an older cousin, her clothes were actually lovely and I got annoyed when she didn't grow out of them quickly enough so I could have them. My mother's side of the family often complained my father didn't prioritise the basics, which he didn't, and spent money on non essentials. Yes I had holes in my shoes but I was taken up to London to see ballets, to the cinema or stage productions as well as all the major museums. My husband who probably lived the same distance as me from the capital but in another county and who grew up with much more money said his father never took them anywhere.

My mother honed her secretarial skills working in the office of a nearby Prep school during term time when I first went to infant school, but went to work full time for Legal and General when my brother and I were going through junior school from which time we became latch key kids and that changed our financial situation somewhat. I remember for example when we got a car. We took holidays down to the West Country and always stopped at Stonehenge, when you could get right up close to the stones.

I never felt poor until a visiting school friend remarked that whilst we had rugs in the bedrooms her family had fitted carpets.
Same "friend" also remarked that her mum was better dressed than mine, though I thought my mum always looked nice. My dad wasn't well paid and my mum took a job which made a huge difference.
We didn't own a house until they brought in the right for tenants to purchase their homes, but it didn't seem to matter to them. We lived in a new house and the neighbours were lovely and seemed all to be friends and so were the children. Looking back we were very happy there.
Holidays were usually visiting relatives as we had aunts etc in other parts of the country but we had plenty of outings to the seaside and visiting friends who lived on a farm.
My mum used to buy me nice clothes.
Both my brother and I were both able to go to Grammar school and were able to go on trips abroad withe the school so I can't say I felt poor

We would have been considered poor compared to some of the posts here. I was getting myself and my sister up for school while I was still in junior school because my mother did early morning cleaning.
But I lived in an area where there was real poverty. Think of some of the housing portrayed on Call the Midwife. I had friends in such living conditions.
A few times I witnessed families belongings being thrown in the street. We had children a few houses away who had to have their heads shaved.
We lived in rented. It was a 3 up 3 down. Only problem being I bedroom was too damp to sleep in and the front room was uninhabitable because of damp.

No, we weren’t poor, but certainly not rich.

Dad had a smallholding with pigs and poultry, he owned it after years of paying it off and we lived in our own bungalow on the land.

Mum never worked outside the home, but worked with Dad.

We were taught to save up for things, if you couldn’t afford it, you did without.

My DH’s family were poor. Nine children, his father did gardening and odd jobs, his mother must have been run ragged with all those kids plus living in a big, unmodernised farmhouse, no electricity, paraffin lamps, no toilet or bathroom (outside ‘privy’ and tin bath), black lead range, no washing machine, copper, dolly tub and mangle. A meat safe to keep cold food in.

All hand me down clothes, DH had to wear his sister’s old shoes, they got free school meals and no money for proper school uniform.

Yes, they were poor, but all of the siblings have been hard workers, never on benefits, most own their homes.

We had good food on the table and clothes to wear. We went on holiday every year, albeit to the same place. My maternal grandfather's farmhouse in Ireland.
No central heating until they bought their own house when they were in their mid 50's. Their first car not long before. If there were money problems I never learned about them but I knew the value of everything.

I knew we were, but I rarely wanted for anything within reason and I was well fed and clothed. The scales dropped from my eyes when I struck up an unlikely friendship with a girl who moved to our school. They lived in the only detached house in an area of two up two down terraces and had a lifestyle I had only read about in books, but her parents, though well to do, were very down to earth and welcoming. She passed for the grammar school and I didn’t but we stayed friends, even for a while after we left school. At the other extreme there was a girl at our school whose family lived in the most appalling privation. That was real poverty. What I had compared to her was a life of luxury. She and her sister were such lovely girls I wondered how they endured it. I always fervently hoped they grew up to have a much better life.

We were just like all my friends at both primary and Grammar school. We all either lived in council or tied cottages. There were a couple of wealthy families in the village but their kids went to private schools. When I got to grammar school I had a friend whose parents were both teachers and owned their own house, everyone else was just like me.

My Dad never had a day off work in his life and cycled miles to work every day whatever the weather. It was low paid work so he did gardening work at weekends. My Mum stayed at home until we all went to school then did cleaning work, school kitchen work etc to make ends meet. She was a great college trained cook so could make a great meal from very little. Dad grew all our veg, salad and fruit. They had very little but we never owed anybody a penny. We would have been entitled to free school meals but my Dad was too proud to ask his employer to sign the forms.

We had no car until I was about 13 and my Dad’s employer left him her car in her Will. We had no central heating and didn’t go on a proper holiday until I was 16. We hired a caravanette and went to the New Forest.

I don’t think I thought about poverty when I was young, I just accepted the way things were, and moaned if I didn’t get what I’d like, which looking back was probably a sign we were more privileged than many. My parents were not extravagant, but I didn’t grow up in a poor household. My dad was an engineer, my parents had a mortgage on their own house, four children, and we had a very happy childhood. I do know now how lucky we were, but I must have been in my own little world then I think.

I thought everyone grew up in a house like ours, till I went to Grammar school and realised they didn’t!
We lived in a 3 bed rented house with 2 families and my Gran in the 3rd bedroom. No bathroom and an outside toilet. I didn’t have my own bed till I was 6 and we moved to a similar house up the road for just our family. Mum gave up a good job for a bank the day she got married. Dad had 2 jobs but spent most of his money down the pub with his friends. We had a tv though.

By today’s standards I’m sure just about everyone I knew was, but we didn’t know it or feel it. Outside toilets, sculleries, one coal fire and no bathroom were the norm, but most of us were well-fed and cared for, clean and happy. We always had a week away in a B & B, but most of my friends just “went away for days”. I remember a couple of middle class children who lived in bigger houses, one with a playroom and an orchard. There were also genuinely poor families in the village who our mothers quietly helped out with clothes and money.

The death of my father, after a lengthy illness, meant my mother had no option but to work for most of my life. I have very happy memories of the local council nursery but once I started school I had a door key (lost more than once) and had to be responsible and grow up fast. There always seemed to be more days in a week than there was money for, and my mother sold her engagement ring to buy my grammar school uniform, but I knew I was much loved and accepted that I had less than my friends. I can’t imagine how a mother in similar circumstances now would cope, and my admiration for my mother grows by the year

MartavTaurus

^Why do some people wear it as a badge of honour these days, especially MP's who want us to think they came from poor backgrounds but really they didn't.^

Maybe because they want to be pitied? They think everyone likes a victim?

What I dislike is when they imply that anyone born into privilege, or who has acquired wealth, thinks they are a better person than the next petson. Or that they are stuck up, and treat poor people with disdain.

They couldn't be more wrong on this one.

Totally agree.

I know there was a short time when things were tough but we were never poor as such.

I am finding it difficult to understand why those who have been fortunate in their life feel that they have to apologise for it 🤷‍♀️