Menu Lifestyle
Updated: March 11, 2020
Originally Published: March 11, 2020
Growing up, my father was perpetually anxious about finances. He constantly fretted over whether there would be enough money, worried about my mother’s spending habits, and often voiced his fears about our family ending up broke or homeless. This created an atmosphere of fear that lingered in my childhood, leading me to believe that our financial struggles were my fault. This feeling of guilt, paired with emotional neglect, shaped my understanding of money and privilege from an early age. I learned to suppress any desires for material things, feeling undeserving of financial comfort.
Fast forward to just last week when I stepped into a food bank for the first time. My partner, Jake, lost his freelance job two months ago and hasn’t found new work since. My writing provides only a small supplement to our income, and managing household responsibilities as a stay-at-home mom leaves me little time for anything else. Financial strain has been a constant companion in our relationship, with the reality of living paycheck to paycheck becoming all too familiar. We often find ourselves relying on our parents for support, but nothing prepared me for the humbling experience of needing to rely on a food bank to feed our kids.
As I entered the Christ the King Food Pantry in New Hampshire, I was met by a group of individuals waiting for their turn. I avoided eye contact, fearing that a moment of connection would unleash a flood of tears.
The volunteers at the church were incredibly kind. They patiently guided me through the registration process, treating me as if I were a cherished guest rather than someone in need. Their warm smiles and friendly conversation made me feel valued, and when they handed me bag after bag of food, I struggled to hold back tears. I felt an overwhelming mix of emotions—humility, shame, guilt, and relief—all at once. I was grateful to have access to food, yet I felt ashamed of my financial struggles and guilty for having never needed assistance before. Nevertheless, I knew that my children would eat well that week.
A couple of days later, Jake and I found ourselves at the New Hampshire State Department applying for financial aid. After an extensive interview, we received food stamps and Medicaid. Looking into Jake’s tear-filled eyes that evening, I was reminded of the little girl who once watched her father fret endlessly about money.
I couldn’t help but notice the parallels between my current situation and my past. It felt as if I was reliving my father’s financial anxieties. Yet, standing in that food pantry made me realize that I could navigate this difficult time and still remain resilient. No one can truly understand the emotions tied to walking through those aisles unless they experience it themselves, but I’m grateful to have had that opportunity.
According to Feeding America, 1 in 7 Americans depends on local food banks for nourishment. While our new EBT card has provided temporary relief, the experience of needing assistance has made me acutely aware of the privilege I have had in accessing quality food throughout my life. I’ve developed a newfound empathy for those who find themselves in similar situations.
Jake has recently been offered a job that will require him to travel across the country, leaving me alone with our two young children. The stress of this decision weighs heavily on me, but I’m determined to do what it takes to ensure our family’s survival and future prosperity. I embrace this new chapter of fierce motherhood, dedicated to providing my kids with stability and support.
When I returned home with the bags from the food pantry, my five-year-old daughter greeted me with excitement, assuming I had been to the local grocery store. She was thrilled by the treats I brought home, and as she savored a blueberry muffin in my lap, I reflected on how different her childhood would be compared to my own. I refuse to project my financial fears onto her; I’m committed to healing from my past and ensuring my children experience security and love.
Visiting the food pantry reminded me of who I am: a fiercely protective mother who isn’t afraid to ask for help in tough times. I’m learning to nurture the little girl inside me, showing her that she can overcome anything as long as I’m by her side. For more on this subject, check out our other blog post here, which dives into the emotional aspects of motherhood.
In summary, relying on a food bank can be a humbling experience, filled with mixed emotions. It highlights the importance of community support and reveals the resilience that can emerge from vulnerability. While I continue to navigate financial challenges, I am dedicated to creating a nurturing environment for my children, free from the burdens of my past.
Keyphrase: food bank dependency
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