The definition of frugality.
Part three in a series on no-spend challenges.
This is the third post in a series on no-spend challenges. Be sure to read the first two here and here.
When I hear the word frugal, I think of my grandfather. Ever-opinionated, he was so quick to judge people’s financial decisions.
While I was studying to complete my journalism diploma at college, in one of our classes we were required to write a blog and update it regularly. At that time in my life (before having children that require me to stay home in the evenings), I was particularly obsessed with going out to restaurants. I decided that my blog would be about local restaurants, so I would tote my camera to any and every restaurant my spouse and I ate at and post a review of the experience on my blog.1
Before we had kids, having enough money was rarely an issue. Granted, we didn’t put as much into savings as perhaps we should have, but money was never scant. We had enough to go out to eat at a casual diner every week. We loved it; so we did it. In my opinion, I thought my blog was pretty cool. I was even having restaurants offer to pay for our meals so that I could review them and they in turn could post the review on their website and Instagram feed.
While visiting my grandparents one weekend, I showed my grandfather my blog. Thinking he might comment on how excellent my writing was, how my photography skills were improving, or how neat the local recognition I received was, instead he said, “You’re spending an awful lot of money at restaurants.” “Why don’t you make your own food?”
The opinions about my restaurant spending were not the first I had heard from my grandfather. Throughout my childhood and early adulthood, many a judgemental comment was made on how I spent my money, what I spent it on, and how much things cost.
This is what I think of when I think about frugality—subjective comments, sideways criticisms, and unsolicited advice. All, by the way, from people who also spend money. They’ve just spent it differently to me.
I love what Lauren Weber says in her book In Cheap We Trust, “Money stirs up fierce and deeply uncomfortable emotions, emotions like resentment, envy, guilt, self-righteousness, anxiety. It is a source of conflict; we war with ourselves and with others about it. And we feel a peculiar pleasure in judging what other people do with their money—how they spend it, how they save it, how and what they consume.”
I’d always assumed (because of stingy family members) that frugality meant never spending money on things that were purchased for happiness’ sake. I thought that to be frugal meant that one did not spend money on things, experiences, or expenses that were deemed frivolous or unnecessary. You know, the whole “wants versus needs” spiel.
There are a number of definitions I find when I look up frugal. Here they are:
Oxford Dictionary defines frugal as using only as much money or food as is necessary, and (of meals) small, plain and not costing very much.2
Cambridge University defines frugal as careful when using money or food, or (of a meal) cheap or small in amount, careful in spending money, careful to use only as much money, food, etc as is necessary.3
Merriam-Webster defines it as characterized by or reflecting economy in the use of resources4
Etymology World Online says, “Frugal comes from the Latin word ‘frugi,’ which means ‘useful,’ ‘productive,’ or ‘temperate.’ It was originally used to describe people who were self-controlled and thrifty, and it has since evolved to refer to someone who is careful with money and resources.”5
Something fascinating I found was this: “The word ‘frugal’ first appeared in English in the 15th century, and it is believed to have originated from the Middle English word ‘frugalite,’ which comes from the Latin word ‘frugalis.’ The word ‘frugalis’ is derived from the Proto-Indo-European root ‘bhreug-," which means ‘to enjoy’ or ‘to use.’ This root is also found in the words ‘fruit’ and ‘benefit.’”
So, the word that we use to define misers and the word that conjures up images of cheap, stingy people who scoff at spending is actually a word that originally meant “to enjoy” and “to use”?
Huh.
I guess maybe I misunderstood frugality. In our modern interpretation of the word, we’ve turned enjoying into being careful. We’ve turned a word that meant use what you have and enjoy it into deny yourself the pleasure of what you’ve worked so hard for.
As I enter in to this season of spending less and challenging myself to be more aware of my spending, I think that maybe I can call myself frugal, in the true meaning of the word. I look around my home and see beautiful and practical things that I can enjoy. Instead of thinking of frugality only in terms of the things I don’t have and have to deny, I can enjoy the fruits of the work my spouse and I have done. Instead of associating frugality with Ebenezer scrooge and judgemental comments, I can associate it with the true meaning of the word, to use and enjoy.
I’m curious, dear readers. If you have done a no-spend or low-spend challenge, how do you feel it went? What insights did you bring with you into your future financial decisions? During seasons of light cash flow, how have you navigated them? I’d love to hear from you in the comments.
I wish I still had this blog!