When I turned sixteen, I immediately got a job at the bagel shop by my house. I was a frequent customer, so I was an easy choice for the job. I knew I needed this job because I liked to go off campus for lunch with my friends, and the forty dollars I got for allowance each month wasn’t enough to be able to afford off campus lunches all the time.

That job turned out to be a blessing and a curse. Since I had a job, I paid for everything. Clothes, food, movies with my friends… everything. And, on top of that, I had to start work at 6:30 a.m. every single Saturday and Sunday. This turned into no more going out at nights, or suffer the consequences the next morning. But I had money! Like, lots of money. And there’s no way of describing that feeling of opening your paycheck and seeing your money that you worked for; the money that you really deserved. I still get that feeling now, every other Tuesday, although the feeling is a little less dramatic after having opened hundreds of paychecks by now.

After getting used to working all the time, I became less tired after work. It became my routine, and I came to enjoy it. I became close friends with one of my coworkers, and although I have a different job now, she and I still talk and see each other occasionally. But most importantly, I got used to handling my own expenses, no matter what they were. If I wanted to buy something and I couldn’t afford it, I had to wait until my next paycheck. And yes, I sometimes do wish my parents gave me more money. But I know that one day, for almost everyone, parents eventually stop supporting you financially. And when my parents fully stop supporting me (helping pay for college, housing, etc.), I will have the skills I need to become a fully independent, hard working woman.