I have always been a compulsive saver.
Since I was six, my grandmother and parents gave me money for special events like birthdays, Christmas, or good grades. I remember saving that money every year to buy nice toys for Christmas or vacations.
When I was sixteen, I spent my whole vacation helping a neighbor with his small side hustle for fun. At the end of that vacation, he gave me $100 in gratitude. I opened my first bank account with that $100 when I turned 18 and never spent it (from that moment until now, I have never had less than $100 in my accounts, so it is like I never used that money).
Then, I got my first job.
I had to pay for college and help around the house. And although I earned well for my age and country (or this is what I thought at that moment), I deprived myself of many things just because I “had to” save.
I started loving and admiring having more and more money in my accounts. Although I didn’t have a specific goal with that money, I never failed to put the same amount of money into my savings account every month.
No matter if I had a birthday, a vacation, or a holiday, my savings were untouchable.
I preferred not to take a trip to Colombia and Europe with my friends because “I didn’t have money” at that time. I took a trip to Disney, where I slept one day at the airport “because I couldn’t afford one more night in a hotel,” and in general, I never bought anything big for myself.