It's Complicated

We humans are a complicated bunch.

We have oddities and quirks. For example, some people are so afraid of germs they avoid physical contact with others. Some people are so uncomfortable around other people that they can’t look them in the eyes. And I think almost everyone talks to themselves; however, a select few of us even go so far as voicing that internal monologue out loud.

Interestingly, those peculiar behaviors extend to our financial lives, too. And they can result in some very strange practices. Anyone peering in on our financial lives would likely step back, scratching their head in confusion about the weird juxtapositions we personally think are normal.

I know, that’s all a little vague. So allow me to offer three real-world examples of how strange people can be when it comes to money.

And for this exercise, I’ll pick on someone I know fairly well. Me.

For better – or far more often, for worse – I’m an impatient person. That can be a good thing sometimes. I usually don’t procrastinate because I’m impatient enough that I want things done now. Typically, though, my impatience is a deep fault. I can’t stand waiting on other people. I’m short with people who don’t immediately see things my way. And heaven forbid a driver in front of me doesn’t have my sense of urgency on the road. It nearly drives me crazy.

But when it comes to my investments, I am incredibly patient. Even when they underperform.

I’ve held investments for more than a decade, firmly believing they will eventually turn around and I’ll be rewarded. Most of the time those investments don’t work out, and I would have been far better off cutting my losses earlier and moving on. I can’t explain why I do it. I have all the patience in the world when it comes to investments.

Here’s another. I can be frugal to a fault when it comes to small but frequent expenditures.

Going to ball games and continually shelling out a couple dollars here and there for the concession stand feels like I am giving away my last dollar. Maintaining vehicles with new windshield wipers, headlights, and oil changes, seems like we are constantly throwing money down the drain.

But when it comes to big, infrequent purchases, I have no problem opening up the pocketbook.

When we decided to build our house, the decision was easy. The money side wasn’t a concern. We recently purchased new furniture for our living room, and it was actually fun picking everything out, knowing good and well the total cost would easily eclipse the spending at the concession stand of, like, one thousand ball games. I can’t explain it. Maybe I subconsciously think my discipline on small expenses gives me the freedom to shell out money on big expenses. Who knows?

Last but not least, I try like the dickens to prevent emotions from infiltrating my decisions in life.

Being unemotional is certainly helpful in some aspects. I don’t get euphoric when my investments increase in value, and I’ve never felt discomfort or the slightest bit of concern when my investments are in freefall. I think that’s been generally helpful. I try to be objective when assessing personal and work situations, leaving emotions aside.

And yet, some of the best decisions in my life were made purely on gut feelings. Asking my wife to marry me was purely emotional. No spreadsheets or calculations were involved. It has been the single best decision I have made in my life. Adopting our children would never have made sense from a financial return perspective, but it has turned out to be a wonderful decision. So emotions can be supremely helpful at times.

I don’t mention these things to gloat, brag, or hold out as the standard by which others should measure themselves. Quite the opposite. It is my personal reminder that humans are complex. We do some things that are seemingly at odds with other parts of our lives. It doesn’t make sense to an outsider, or even to ourselves, at times.

That’s not good or bad. That’s just life. It’s complicated.