8 phrases lower-middle-class boomers used that their children willl remember for decades

Growing up, I remember sitting at our kitchen table, the one with the wobbly leg my dad never quite got around to fixing, while my parents reviewed my report card.

I'd gotten straight A's except for one B+ in art class. My mom looked at me over her reading glasses and said, "Well, we don't waste money on things that won't pay the bills." That phrase stuck with me for thirty years, shaping how I viewed creativity, passion, and worth in ways I'm only now beginning to understand.

If you grew up with lower-middle-class boomer parents, you probably heard phrases that seemed practical at the time but left lasting imprints on your psyche. These weren't meant to harm us. Our parents were doing their best with the tools they had, shaped by their own experiences of scarcity and the belief that financial security was the ultimate goal. But their words became our inner voices, and decades later, we're still unpacking their impact.

1. "Money doesn't grow on trees"

This one was a classic in my household. Every request, from new school supplies to joining the soccer team, was met with this reminder. My parents weren't wrong about the value of money, but hearing this constantly made me feel guilty for having any wants or needs.

I carried that guilt into adulthood. Even after landing my first job as a financial analyst, I'd agonize over buying a new pair of running shoes, hearing my dad's voice reminding me that money doesn't grow on trees. It took years of therapy to realize I was allowed to spend money on things that brought me joy, not just survival.

The phrase taught us frugality, yes, but it also taught us that our desires were burdens. Many of us still struggle with spending money on ourselves, even when we can afford it.

2. "We can't afford that"

Whether it was name-brand cereal or a school field trip, this phrase was the automatic response to most requests. Sometimes it was true, sometimes it was just easier than explaining priorities. But hearing it repeatedly made many of us internalize a scarcity mindset that persists even when our bank accounts tell a different story.

I remember when I finally paid off my student loans at 35, I still couldn't shake the feeling that I couldn't afford things. I'd walk through farmers' markets (where I now volunteer) and calculate the cost difference between organic and conventional produce, even though I could easily afford either. That phrase had become my default setting.

3. "You think you're better than us?"

This one hit differently. Any attempt to explore interests outside the family norm, whether it was wanting to go to college out of state or trying vegetarianism, was met with this defensive question. It wasn't really about us thinking we were better. It was about our parents' fear that education or different choices would create distance between us.

My mother, a teacher herself, would say this whenever I mentioned career goals beyond what she'd achieved. The irony wasn't lost on me years later when I helped my parents downsize and found my old report cards with her notes about my "exceptional potential." She wanted more for me but was also afraid of what that might mean for our relationship.

4. "That's for rich people"

Vacations that weren't visiting relatives, extracurricular activities that required equipment, even certain career paths were dismissed with this phrase. It drew an invisible line between "us" and "them," teaching us that certain experiences and opportunities weren't meant for people like us.

I internalized this so deeply that when I started earning good money as an analyst, I still felt like an imposter in nice restaurants or on hiking trails that required expensive gear. It took conscious effort to remind myself that I'd earned the right to these experiences, that they weren't reserved for some mysterious class of "rich people" I could never join.

5. "Don't get too big for your britches"

Any display of confidence or ambition was quickly tamped down with this warning. Celebrating an achievement or expressing excitement about future possibilities was seen as dangerous, as if acknowledging success might invite its disappearance.

This phrase taught us to shrink ourselves, to downplay our accomplishments, to always expect the other shoe to drop. Even now, when someone compliments my writing or my trail running times, my first instinct is to deflect, to make myself smaller, to not get too big for my britches.

6. "We don't waste money on things that won't pay the bills"

Art, music, creative writing, anything that wasn't directly tied to earning potential was dismissed as frivolous. My father, an engineer, couldn't understand why anyone would pursue something that didn't guarantee a stable income.

This phrase is why so many of us abandoned creative pursuits, why we chose practical over passionate, why we still feel guilty about hobbies that don't generate income. It's why it took me until my forties to pursue writing, after years of telling myself it wasn't practical, that it wouldn't pay the bills.

7. "You don't know how good you have it"

Any expression of disappointment, frustration, or sadness was met with this comparison to some worse situation. While gratitude is important, this phrase taught us that our feelings weren't valid unless we were experiencing the absolute worst-case scenario.

It created adults who struggle to acknowledge their own pain, who feel guilty for being unhappy because someone, somewhere, has it worse. We learned to suppress our emotions rather than process them, to be grateful rather than honest about our struggles.

8. "Family comes first, no matter what"

This sounds positive on the surface, but for many of us, it meant sacrificing our own needs, boundaries, and sometimes safety for family harmony. It meant not going away for college to stay close to home, not taking job opportunities that would require moving, not setting boundaries with difficult relatives.

The phrase taught us that individual needs were selfish, that family loyalty meant self-sacrifice. Many of us still struggle with guilt when we prioritize our own wellbeing over family expectations.

Final thoughts

Recently, while helping my parents sort through boxes during their downsizing, I found something that stopped me in my tracks. It was a notebook where my mom had written down her dreams, things she'd wanted to do "when there was more money, more time." The list included taking an art class, traveling to Italy, and writing a book. She never did any of them.

Understanding where these phrases came from doesn't erase their impact, but it does help us see our parents as people who were doing their best with limited resources and their own inherited fears. They gave us what they thought we needed to survive in a world that had been hard on them.

The work now is recognizing these voices when they pop up in our heads and choosing whether they still serve us. Sometimes frugality is wisdom, sometimes it's fear. Sometimes family loyalty is love, sometimes it's self-abandonment. We get to decide which lessons to keep and which ones to thank and release.

If you recognize yourself in these phrases, you're not alone. We're all still unpacking the luggage our parents gave us, keeping what fits and leaving behind what doesn't. And maybe, just maybe, we can pursue those art classes, take those trips, and write those books that our parents never could.