Imagine you’re getting ready for bed when, out of the blue, one of your closest friends starts texting you, unloading harsh criticisms about your spending habits and attacking your character, it was very over the top as if he was possessed, or something. I won’t go into all the details, but that’s exactly what happened to me about a month ago. A little later, I received an apology email from that friend, and it took me some time to respond. I never felt so bad in my entire life! Today, I want to share my response with you.
Friends are truly a gift from God, and we should cherish them deeply. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t also value our family, but there’s something special about the friends who know everything about you and still love you anyway. My mom’s friend once had a sign that read, “A friend is someone who knows everything about you but loves you anyway,” and I think that captures it perfectly.
Friends are worth far more than money. I’ve seen the impact of losing friends up close—my wife lost a dear friend, and the pain of that loss is still felt. I, too, have friends I no longer see, and there’s an unmistakable void left behind. So, cherish your friends and be gentle with them; they have struggles you may not see or understand. It’s our time down here.
My hope is that by sharing this, you’ll be encouraged to be gracious and kind to your friends, even when things get difficult. Take care of each other, and remember that the bonds we share are far more valuable than anything money could buy.

My Reply
Mikey,
I’m sorry it took me some time to get back to you. I feel like I made it clear that we’re still good, so I didn’t feel rushed to respond to your apology email. There’s a lot to unpack, and while I usually brainstorm my responses, I wanted to take the time to polish this one a bit.
First off, I want to say that I have no issues with you calling me out if you think I’m wrong or making poor decisions. I actually expect you to do that. What stood out this time was the tone—it felt over the top and included attacks that I didn’t think were warranted.
I feel free to call you out on your BS as well, and you know I do, especially when it comes to your ex. You know I think she takes advantage of you and uses the kids as leverage, and I hate that. I often keep it to myself because I notice you tend to pull back when I say it too bluntly. You also tend to leave out important parts when you first tell me about incidents with her, and I usually find out about them later. I assume you do that to avoid getting a lecture from me. Honestly, I only lecture people I care about, and if I didn’t care, I wouldn’t say anything.
Maybe we both have room to grow when it comes to communication. I know you don’t follow the Bible, but it has some good advice: “Speak the truth in love.” I think that’s good advice for both of us, don’t you?
I don’t know exactly what you were thinking either, but it’s clear you weren’t in a good place. I can see the stress is getting to you, and I hope moving out and in with your mother will help. You’re on the right path—you’re introspective enough to ask why you were so angry. Anger often comes from fear, especially the fear of not meeting expectations. I’m not sure if that helps, but it’s a thought. My Buddhist friend would probably say it’s all about desires; their whole philosophy is that desiring less leads to more peace. That kind of makes sense, though it also seems like some desires—like for peace and justice—are worth having. I guess I’m rambling.
Regarding the financial stuff, I think there’s a lot of speculation and a sense of injustice that has been done to you financially. There’s truth in what you said about my ex-wife hiding things from me, which led to our financial troubles. When we divorced, I took on the debt, gave her over 50% of my 401k, and made monthly payments to her. She really took advantage of the situation, and I struggled financially for a while afterward, trying to recover.
I think things are better now, but my kids still see me as some kind of ATM. Appearances can be deceiving—they think I spend tons of money, and they have this sense of entitlement like they’re owed something. That really gets to me. They never ask, which implies they’d be okay with a no. Instead, they assume, and when I don’t give them money, they resort to emotional blackmail, accusing me of not loving them. I’m not going to play that game.
They have the money my ex-wife had in her account, which will keep them in the house for a while, but not forever. They can access the 401k funds if they just find the paperwork and apply, but they haven’t even tried. It bothers me that they don’t have jobs, and when they do have access to money that’s rightfully theirs, all they need to do is fill out some forms, and they can’t even manage that. Instead, they just complain that I didn’t give them money to help move or get rid of trash. It’s frustrating.
I never asked for handouts. When I borrowed money from my parents or grandparents, I paid it back, and I expect the same from my kids. They didn’t learn this entitlement from me.
I probably misspoke when I said I couldn’t afford to buy Diablo. The truth is, we just don’t spend much money on games anymore. I could afford them, but my interest in gaming is waning. My kids recently invited me over to play, and while I wanted to see them, I wasn’t interested in playing Fortnite. My wife has influenced me in this way, valuing our time and spending less on intangible things. I’d rather spend time with you, but I’m not sure gaming is the best way to do that anymore. A hike or something else might be better.
We have different perspectives on the use and purpose of money, especially when it comes to spending on experiences. You tend to avoid spending money at bars, whereas I believe it’s perfectly fine to pay a bit more to enjoy time with friends and immerse myself in the experience. For me, it’s about more than just the drinks—it’s about engaging with the staff, appreciating the décor, soaking in the music, and trying new things that I’ve never tried before. It feels like a small adventure every time. Sure, I could save money by staying at home, but I watched my ex save a lot by not experiencing life, choosing to stay in and avoid new opportunities. That’s just not the kind of life I want to live.
At any rate, we are good, and I encourage you to take a closer look at what’s really making you angry. It’s often not the alcohol itself—alcohol is just a coping mechanism that amplifies whatever’s already there. Instead of lecturing you on it, I want to offer my support. I’m here to explore this with you, to help you navigate your journey without just handing out advice. I’m trying to avoid being the “advice monster” and working on being someone who stands alongside you as a trusted friend. I want to be there for you, not with answers, but as someone who can help you explore and understand what’s going on. We’ll figure this out together.
Your friend,
Chester C.



Leave a comment