I Feel Guilty About Spending Money — Is It Because I’m An Eldest Daughter?

There’s a £250 bottle of Parisian fragrance Parfums De Marly seated on one of my bedroom shelves that I can’t stand to look at. No, it doesn’t smell offensive. On the contrary, I bought it for my 28th birthday last year after eyeing it for many years — my first official self-gifted birthday present. 

In my eyes, it’s not just a perfume worth £250. It’s £250, which could have paid for a portion of my sister’s school fees for a term, and the remainder would have been used for two weeks’ worth of groceries. Even though I can comfortably afford it without making a dent in my savings or foregoing other expenses, owning it is an uncomfortable and gnawing reminder of better ways I could have spent the money. 

Growing up as the eldest daughter in an African middle-class family, enjoying wealth never came naturally to me. Subconsciously, I became aware from a young age that a continuous flow of money was never guaranteed. Unlike most of my peers, I learned to prioritise necessity over comfort early on. For instance, whenever I fell sick, my first thought was always how fast I could recover so that I wouldn’t waste more money on hospital bills — money that could be spent on food or electricity instead.

In college, I mainly survived on less than a dollar a day for food while still sending money back home. That scarcity mindset followed me into adulthood. Now, despite working two jobs and having decent savings from freelancing, I still carry a deep sense of financial insecurity and struggle to spend money on things I deem unnecessary. 

I feel like I don’t have enough money. And truthfully speaking, I’m not sure what amount will ever be enough. My perception of my financial situation is far from reality. However, as the eldest African daughter who was duly accorded the unofficial role of caregiver, most financial responsibilities fall on me. So no matter how much I have, I can’t shake that pang of guilt whenever I spend money. Experts say that I’m suffering from “money dysmorphia”, a relatively new term (but not an actual diagnosis) given to those who may be high-earners but have a “distorted” view of their finances. 

Ayesha Ofori, a UK-based finance expert and Founder of the investing app, Propelle says money dysmorphia could present itself in two ways. “You could be earning well but still feel really poor, or you might not have much but you spend on luxury items to keep up appearances. It’s that consistent feeling that whatever you have, it’s not enough, or it’ll disappear at any moment.” 

She emphasised that for eldest daughters in Black and African families, money dysmorphia hits deep. “You’ve been raised to believe that your success isn’t just yours — it belongs to the whole family. So even if you’re making decent money that’s more than enough to sustain your lifestyle, you might still feel poor because you know you’ve got other bills that aren’t even yours.”

Money dysmorphia isn’t exclusive to Black African eldest daughters. It affects Black people from all backgrounds. In the UK, new research suggests nearly one in four Brits have experienced money dysmorphia. Even among high earners making more than £100,000 per year, a quarter of them identified as working class. Despite being among the least likely to be top earners in the UK, Black women are the most likely to provide financial assistance to their family members, commonly known as “The Black Tax.”

A 2022 study on Black women and Black tax revealed that Black women have historically built networks of survival, both giving and receiving financial aid. Some even emptied their retirement accounts to assist family members in crisis. Angela Akinyi, a UK-based Kenyan eldest daughter, knows this feeling all too well.

“I’ll be obsessing over that twenty pounds because I imagine that I might mysteriously wake up poor the following day, having used up my last twenty and with no money to pay rent or to send to my family back home,” she says. “In my mind, if I suddenly become poor, then my whole family will be too, even though some of my siblings have well-paying jobs. I feel pressured to make and send more money, but it’s a sacrifice that I’m willing to make.”

Dominique Broadway, a personal finance expert, and Kajabi creator, empathised with Akinyi’s situation. She explains that most people from Black backgrounds, unfortunately, due to a legacy of systemic oppression, have a lot of generational trauma as a result of poverty, which can leave you constantly feeling like you’re one step away from losing it all, even when your bank account says otherwise. This can be cranked by social media pressure, making you feel like you’re falling behind everyone else’s highlight reels.

Despite my background in economics and experience in the finance sector, I know that unlearning the financial guilt I’ve carried for years — amplified by the pressures of “eldest daughter syndrome”— will take more than a few online finance courses or budgeting apps. It’s a deeper process of rewiring my relationship with money that will take a lot of patience and practice. To help navigate this journey, our two financial experts shared the following tips.

Even though money dysmorphia isn’t officially classified as a psychological condition in the DSM-5 — a mental health manual used by psychiatrists — just like with all trauma, you first need to acknowledge it and then actively work on making necessary changes.

Your money is yours. That doesn’t mean you can’t help, but you need to see it as a choice. Before spending or giving, Dominique emphasises that it’s important to ask, “Am I doing this because I want to, or because I feel obligated to?” 

Many Black eldest daughters struggle with setting boundaries, but according to Ayesha, you don’t need to justify why you can’t send money this month. A simple “I can’t right now” is enough. You don’t owe anyone a detailed breakdown of your expenses.

Set aside a fixed amount each month for family support. Once that’s gone, it’s gone, no dipping into your savings or emergency fund, Ayesha says. “If you choose to include family support in your budget, make sure it’s not at the expense of your stability,” Dominique says. 

Many of us grew up seeing money as something to spend, not something to grow. Matter of fact, nearly 60 percent of Black women have no investments due to a lack of financial knowledge. In reality, you can’t help others if you're not financially secure. However, before taking any investment or financial advice, it’s best to consult a financial adviser who’s registered by the Financial Conduct Authority, the financial regulatory body in the UK.

Surround yourself with other Black women who are navigating the same struggles. “Talking to people who have experienced it themselves and have found a way to “fix it" makes a difference,” Ayesha explains. For instance, Home Girls Unite is a UK-based support group for eldest daughters. Dominique reminds us, “Financial freedom starts with you. Remember, money is a tool, not a trophy. As a Black, eldest daughter, you’re more than your paycheck.”