We consider ourselves a middle class Australian family. This hasn’t always been the case. My husband and I come from migrant families and did not have a lot of money growing up, yet we were grounded in strong family values and beliefs. We were sold the dream that, with hard work, one could escape the welfare cycle and have a comfortable life in Australia, the land of beauty and abundance.
We’ve worked very hard since our teenage years to have “made it”. Now middle-aged and with three young children, we no longer rely on government assistance. We bought our own home and were lucky enough to buy an investment property in the hope of it bringing financial security. We now feel cheated. It is clear the system our economy is based on is flawed.
The news that the Reserve Bank has hiked interest rates for the 12th time in 13 months has dealt us a serious blow. The banks hooked us in with loans we were eligible for when rates were low, and now we feel we are paying the price. Rate rise after rate rise has seen our lifelong goal of being financially secure crumble. We have been forced to return to the mindset of our migrant upbringing and be resourceful about how we spend every dollar. We have had to completely reevaluate our priorities. Our objective used to be to one day pay off a house. Now we are considering selling our home and returning to renting. This shift in our perception affects everything. We struggle with the thought of our children never entering the housing market or having the stability it can bring.
Having recently stopped paid work to care for our three young kids, the rise in interest rates and costs of living pressures have forced me to consider returning to the workplace. This is an anxiety-inducing thought, as I would be returning to a low income, to work burnout and to physical exhaustion. For what? To barely cover childcare fees, buy slightly more expensive food, get takeaway more often and perhaps if we’re lucky have an occasional weekend away.
Philip Lowe says we need to cut back spending. But we have already done that. We’ve cancelled extracurricular sporting activities for two of our children. I have signed up to Costco in the hope of reducing our grocery bills further. But it seems for every dollar being saved there is a dollar added to our expenses. Mortgage, childcare fees, groceries, petrol, utilities, sports, uniforms, clothing and footwear for growing children. I have begun growing more veggies in the garden and studying petrol prices. School lunch orders are capped to once a week at a $5 maximum. The prospect of taking a well-deserved family holiday looks grim. I shop for secondhand furniture instead of new. All spending is now under the microscope. If it’s not a necessity it’s not worth buying.
Sadly, I know we are still some of the lucky ones. And while I appreciate there may be an economic case for raising interest rates, I question the fairness. We built a way of living, became accustomed to comforts that we earned through hard work. We did everything we were told to do to secure our future, and that of our children. Now this reality is fading away with every rate rise. There is a level of unwavering stress and restlessness to it all. It’s affecting our mental health. Just as we begin to recover from the trauma of the pandemic, we face a new crisis, where our our hard work and sacrifice is being eroded away.
May Abdelaziz lives in Melbourne with her husband and three young children
