What kind of wealthy are you?
There are a lot of different kinds of wealth, and in an effort to gain some perspective for myself, I am diving in.
MONEY
This is the obvious one, uh, obviously.
It is also relative to your environment. If I decided not to pay my mortgage for a month and instead sent it to Indonesia, it could pay for at least ten times as many mortgage payments. Amazing! But I still can’t do that, because I also need a place to live. This is something I’ve struggled with all my life but in 2019 I had a few epiphanies about how my suffering doesn’t actually benefit others so it’s okay for me to want my most self-actualising possible house (with room enough to foster cats, run a small business or charity, and have medically useful things like wide spaces—so I can use a wheelchair around the house if I need to—plus various water therapies, and nice views to lift the spirits when I’m bedbound). Sadly, wanting something doesn’t make it appear.
I think today I’ll define money wealth as how much spending power you have after your needs are met (in the context of your environment). So, food and shelter and medical needs and insurance and bills, plus social costs eg when your friend invites you out to dinner you don’t have to pretend you’re busy because you can’t afford it. Plus tossing a few dollars into whatever the latest school/church/etc fundraiser is, because contributing to your community is important too.
The other day I saw a comment pointing out that non-necessary items like toys and (most) fancy foods have become cheaper…. but essentials have become more expensive. So politicians’ advice is to stop eating avocado toast or cafe coffee in order to buy a house. But it simply doesn’t add up. Even if you have a wildly expensive $10 coffee every single day of the year, cutting it out completely for a year will barely make a dent in a house deposit. That was an “Aha!” moment for me because I DO buy stupid stuff and feel bad about it. But actually most of my financial choices are quite rational. So thank you, internet.
Twenty years ago, John Scalzi (the sci-fi writer) blogged about Being Poor.
LANGUAGE
I speak English extremely fluently, and Indonesian rather well. English in particular makes me linguistically wealthy. I can travel almost anywhere in the world with ease, and almost all entertainment is available in English. All the rich nations welcome me, and some nations will pay a LOT for my skills.
When I talk to Indonesians in Australia, they’re delighted to meet me.
When I talk to Indonesians in Indonesia, they treat me like a full-on genius superhero. That’s something most people never get to experience, and it’s grand for the self-esteem.
APPEARANCE
I have long hair and I’m white. Those can be very useful, and being white in particular can save my life (studies show that women of colour are the most likely to die from medical gaslighting and neglect). The long hair signals femininity and can be surprisingly useful. I once saw two drunks fighting and broke through the circle of spectators to stop them—which worked immediately, and I literally heard someone say, “There’s a lady present!” Of course presenting as female can also cause huge barriers to my safety, to the respect (or usually lack of it) shown to me and my brain, etc.
I am very lucky to be a cis female, rather than someone who has to fight to have their gender recognised. Ditto sexuality. When it comes to gender and sexuality, I am on ‘easy’ mode. (I’m bi, and that did technically get me fired once, but I was about to leave that job anyway due to my health.)
Being fat is awful, especially when it can alter the medical care I receive. But honestly it has its uses too. I almost never get cold, and almost no woman in the world is threatened by me chatting to their man. Every so often I get a fun fake-flirty interaction out of being fat and middle-aged, which is something I never ever did when I was young and thin. In most apocalyptic scenarios I would die very quickly, but I would at least provide a lot of food (assuming cannibalism has come back into fashion).
RELIGION
Again, easy mode. I’m Christian and other than now feeling the need to explain “I follow Jesus and kindness” rather than simply describing myself as Christian, life is super easy for me faith-wise. I have a huge array of choices for same-faith friendship and fellowship, and when there is religion-based violence in Australia you can almost guarantee that no Christians were harmed or will be harmed as a result (even when the perpetrator is Christian). Of course that only applies to the Western World! There are definitely places where Christians face horrific persecution right now. But in Australia, my religion’s holiest days are all public holidays during which I can celebrate in whatever way I choose (short of streaking through Parliament House). Most of my family is Christian too, which makes life and faith much easier.
I am quite rich in the experience of my faith as well. I’m quite mystical as far as Christians go, and most of the time I find God’s presence perfectly obvious. Fundamentally, I am aware that there is a loving God who is always with me (and doesn’t smite me when I scream at Him, either, which is handy). That’s pretty amazing.
LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION
I live in a safe (and wealthy) country, in a safe city, in a safe house where I won’t get thrown out or have to deal with rental inspections. My kids go to reasonably safe schools and it is safe for me (or them) to walk around during the day. The housing standard is high, with legal rules like, “A landlord must make it possible to heat the house to at least 18 degrees Celsius in Winter”. And various energy and construction standards, plus social expectations that a two-kid family lives in a 3-bedroom home (or larger). I even own my own home (technically a townhouse), which is AMAZING as a Millennial.
Being poor in Australia is very different to being poor in Indonesia. It’s true that I’ve gone hungry in the past, but that was mainly because I was determined to be independent from a fairly young age. When I finally went crawling back home, my parents were able to make space for me and even gave me some weekly money so I could buy my own meals and pretend I was still independent until I was able to work again. If I ever go hungry again, it’s far more likely to be because of Autistic food aversion than having nothing in the cupboard. Although I certainly live paycheck to paycheck, and things do get dire sometimes.
One in ten Canberra households live in poverty. My family’s total income is about 70% of the median income for a family of equivalent size. Which used to be survivable, but with my medical costs + the cost of living it’s looking grim. However I’m pretty skilled at living on less than the average person, and our friends tend to socialise at each others’ houses, not any place we have to pay to enter.
TIME
In one very specific way I’m lucky: my schedule is almost always clear. So I can pick up my kids from school when they’re sick; can answer a phone call at 2:00am; can make doctor appointments willy-nilly; and so on.
But due to my fibromyalgia I only get about four functional hours per day on average.
I work one day per week, looking after a kid (who I happen to adore). I get paid to drive there and back (not the whole way as it’s quite far, but a full hour of paid driving per shift) and driving her to and from the place we usually go (another hour of driving) so for my five hour shift the child is either strapped into a car seat or entirely absent for two of those five hours. That helps a lot, but I also need to be VERY careful not to schedule much of anything on that day, or on the day before or the day after. So technically I get paid for five hours, but it takes me three days. (Driving is a relatively easy activity now that my sleep apnea is rarely at dangerous levels, so I can drive more easily than I can babysit. Other things, like cleaning, are a very difficult activity in which a couple of minutes can wipe me out for days.) Although the kid is a toddler, she’s not the type to run away and she’s used to me being in a wheelchair 90% of the time, so she’s surprisingly easy in terms of physical activity. The wheelchair is extremely helpful as it means I’m not standing around a lot. 80% of wheelchair users are able to walk but need the wheelchair due to balance, pain, or fatigue issues.
This is a handy post about the reality of doing ANYTHING while disabled in a similar way to me:
FAMILY
I get on with most of my family, although there are some I only see once per year. I do enjoy that one get-together per year. I am also married with two kids, which is pretty much perfection. It is an especially unusual perfection for a disabled woman, as around 60% of men will eventually divorce their wife if she has a chronic medical issue.
(Why YES straight white men can be pathetic. I’m sorry but it happens. It’s not an innate male flaw, but a side effect of privilege.)
HEALTH
I’m not dying, which is about the best thing I can say about this junk heap of a body. In fact, people with terminal cancer literally have a better quality of life than those with fibromyalgia (not my claim but it resonants hard). NOT that I want to have cancer! The fear of death is something that I don’t have to deal with at all, and that is a very good thing. I do have operations sometimes, but I don’t have chemo or radiotherapy, which is GREAT.
However, my life does suck monkey balls and that’s just a fact. I’m never not in pain. I can’t spend a whole day without vocalising from the pain at least once, and usually ten or twenty times a day, eg getting up from a chair or picking something up from the floor—stuff like that hurts quite a bit, and standing up for more than about two seconds is awful. My standard pain level is a four, which for a healthy person would be reason enough to see a doctor. There was a time in 2024 when I was bedbound for weeks on end, could not move without yelling in pain, and even when lying still it was as painful as being in active labor. The worst part is knowing that it’s virtually guaranteed to happen again because that’s the deal with fibromyalgia.
Recently, my jaw has become consistently painful (by which I mean 24/7). I saw a specialist who advised me to get a splint in order to slow down the increase in pain ($2000+) and to see a specialised physiotherapist ($250ish per session). I couldn’t realistically do either of those things. It hurts quite a bit to sing, and I know that it will hurt more and more. I’m pretty angry about all of that, but here we are. I was never a good singer, but I love to sing. Loved to sing.
Interestingly, I realised this year that even if I was physically healthy, I would still be unable to do almost all kinds of regular work due to my Autism (Level 2). I’m still processing what that means. For me, it means that about 80% of the time (95% of the time if I’m out of my house or if there are visitors or mess or an important appliance is broken) I feel like I’m wearing a full-length skintight body suit that has been lined with the scratchy side of velcro. Every movement makes it worse, and I can never get used to it. At the same time as the scratchy suit, my face is for some reason something that makes a significant minority of people furiously angry no matter what I say or do. (The face thing is about communication, eg the way I was accused of animal cruelty due to opening a tiny cat cafe; an idea that was inspired mainly by my desire to share the beauty of kittens with others. In fact it was kittens that inspired this post as I think having kittens is a very special sort of wealth, and it is my responsibility to share that wealth as much as I can.)
MEANING/PURPOSE
This is extremely important to me, and family of course helps with this a LOT. When Lizzie was born, I was mentally healthy for almost the first time in my adult life. I was flooded with happy chemicals and loving the fact that my life rotated utterly around her. Sadly, that early ‘baby high’ doesn’t last forever. But the rational parts are still there: Even though I don’t usually feel like a great parent, I know I do some things well, and that I am entirely irreplaceable. All the ickiest cliches are true: Being a mum is the most important thing I’ve ever done.
But. I also have my writing, and the knowledge that people actually like it and will pay for it (I earn about two cents per hour, which is terrible but frankly more than most writers). That’s also something that only I can do.
But… I want more. The world is on fire and I want to help! But as time passes I am slowly learning that my worth doesn’t depend on contributing to society. And, that saving the world is not my personal responsibility. These are extremely helpful and necessary lessons for me to learn, and I’m not done learning them yet.
I also want to do meaningful things just because, if I can. And usually my health says “Nope”. Plus of course my finances. I literally have a list of about twenty people or organisations that I want to give money to, but I can’t. That is frustrating.
My paid job is highly meaningful, because I am looking after a child. That is great and is part of why I’m able to do it at all.
And one of the key reasons I love fostering kittens is that I’m often literally saving them from being euthanised PLUS saving endangered native animals from their murderous natures. Plus, oxytocin again. Although unless I get serious funds these adorable babies will be my last litter (which is devastating, and I have been feeling extremely sorry for myself… which is the other source of inspiration for this post). However, I have applied for a grant and I’m optimistic.
FUN & HOLIDAYS
Yes, kittens are fun. I can also read and listen to music. Kids are fun too, and Chris (husband) is a fine conversationalist, among other enjoyable skills.
I love love love water, which is another classic Autism thing. I especially love the beach. In 2025 my family went to the beach FOUR TIMES because my Mum was working in Bermagui.
It. Was. Amazing.
Tragically, she doesn’t work there any more. Oh well; it was good while it lasted.
I have another fantasy of buying a house in Bermagui. My family would have at least two beach holidays per year, including sometimes having my whole extended family there (yes, all the people in the photo above, and probably more); I’d rent it out most of the time; and run paid retreats for artists and writers there too. Nice fantasy, huh?
We also managed to take the family to Indonesia in 2024, which was a dream that pre-dated my kids actually existing. That was a mix of meaningfulness (I felt it was really important for them to see another country that wasn’t part of the West) and work (our excuse to go was my winning a grant from the Interactive Fiction Technology Foundation to teach interactive fiction to Indonesian writers), and of course fun. We all love water, so I planned all our activities around pools and/or the beach.
We also visited the Great Barrier Reef, in 2022 I think, using my minuscule superannuation fund (after using most of it to pay off our worst debt). That was incredibly special too, and of course meaningful because it’s a wonder of the world; intrinsically Australian; and in considerable danger from Climate Change. And it was really good for the kids to get out of their comfort zone in a way that they were reasonably enthusiastic about. Eg. When they went to use the shower they discovered it didn’t have a hose attachment and they literally cried. But they got over it, and adapted.
(In Indonesia, one of our hotels had very unpredictable toasters, so now my kids are extremely casual about scraping off the burnt bits and eating the toast. The traffic there also gives serious perspective on any other traffic. And the kids now have a tiny bit of a sense of the other path my own life could have taken, since for a long time I planned to move to Indonesia as an aid worker.)
We have relatives in London and we owe them a visit SO BAD. They actually paid for Chris to visit this year, which was simply brilliant. I’m not really well enough for such a long journey, so I have lovely fantasies about travelling first-class and/or stopping at several points on the way (Indonesia again maybe, Hong Kong and/or Singapore, India, Egypt, somewhere in Europe). It seems absolutely impossible, but we’ll see what happens in the future.
My family has had loads of visits to the coast (especially recently); an amazing interstate holiday to one of the most spectacular places in the world; and a brilliant international holiday. In terms of travel experience, we are very wealthy. I have no idea how the future will go. It seems impossible that we could ever justify another holiday, but life is frequently surprising. And, we live in Australia, a wealthy country, and surprising amounts do sometimes land in our lap (eg like many other very small businesses I received lockdown payments, which meant we were finally able to fix our AC).
I really love eating at restaurants. I love food as art, whether it’s me cooking it or someone else. Sadly, eating out is not justifiable at the moment except for extremely special occasions. I will probably be able to have a nice dinner to celebrate my wedding anniversary later this month, and my mum just told me she’s taking me out to dinner for my birthday in February. For Lizzie’s birthday, she has asked for a MacDonald’s dinner, which she will get. I’m not a super consistent parent, so I make a huge deal of birthdays (she is also getting pancakes for breakfast and a Percy Jackson themed party).
RESPECT
This is a tricky one. I know some people still believe awful things about me thanks to people lying on the internet (and my Autism). I know some people believe I’m faking being disabled (in fact I still often imply or outright lie that I’m relaxed or lazy in order to smooth social situations eg “What are you going to do this weekend?” “Read books and nap!” —which is technically true and technically delightful, but actually sometimes it would be nice to do something interesting outside of the house). Some people look at my fat body and immediately assume I’m lazy and/or stupid, when of course it’s a side effect of illness + self-medication + medications (rather tragically, insulin makes me gain weight but of course I can’t stop taking it).
But most of the people whose opinions actually matter to me still believe I’m a reasonably intelligent, reasonably responsible, reasonably decent human being.
FREEDOM
I’m free to do so many things that I don’t even think about it. I can get divorced if I want, I can buy stupid things (and then deal with the consequences). I can travel places (health and finances pending). I can move around my city freely, wearing almost anything I like. My country is not at war or on any kind of rationing.
LEGACY
I have two great kids, AND I have my writing—that’s pretty sweet. And even though my reputation is terrible in some places, I’ve never done anything truly bad or shameful. And I’ve done some really cool things here and there, too. I have plenty of regrets, but in the context of my forty-three years I’m doing pretty well.
CONCLUSION
I am rich in location, housing, family (both immediate and extended), language(s), gender, sexuality, life experiences, flexibility of time, leisure time/activities, freedom of movement/choices, and personal and familial legacy. I am poor in terms of cashflow (compared to other Australians) and health.
Because of my privilege, I forget about the many ways I’m wealthy. But actually I’m doing pretty damn well.
What kind of wealthy are you?
What kinds of wealth did I forget to write about?
Felicity Banks 
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