While affluent children worried about which extracurriculars looked best on college applications, we were calculating whether we could afford to eat lunch and still save enough for textbooks—a reality that shaped every decision, every day, in ways our wealthier peers never imagined.
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Growing up, I remember watching my college roommate casually mention that her parents were hiring someone to help her write her resume. Meanwhile, I was googling "how to format a resume" at 2 AM, knowing that if I didn't figure it out myself, no one else would.
That moment crystallized something I'd always felt but couldn't quite articulate: the invisible expectations that shaped my lower middle class upbringing were worlds apart from what my wealthier peers experienced. These weren't just differences in what we had, but in what was expected of us from day one.
After years of reflection and countless conversations with people from different economic backgrounds, I've identified eight strict expectations that those of us from lower middle class families lived with that our upper class counterparts rarely, if ever, encountered.
1) You must excel academically because it's your only ticket out
In my house, B's weren't good enough. Not because my parents were harsh, but because they knew the math: without exceptional grades, scholarships weren't happening, and without scholarships, college meant crushing debt.
My teacher mother would sit with me for hours reviewing homework, not out of helicopter parenting, but out of necessity. Every test score mattered. Every assignment could impact my future. There was no safety net of legacy admissions or parent-funded gap years to "find myself."
I watched friends from wealthier families approach school with a casualness I couldn't afford. They knew college was guaranteed, regardless of their GPA. For me? Academic excellence wasn't an option. It was survival.
2) Never waste food, ever
"There are children starving in Africa" might be a cliché, but in lower middle class homes, wasting food was genuinely seen as throwing money in the trash. Every leftover got repurposed. That half sandwich from lunch? Tomorrow's breakfast. The ends of the bread loaf? Perfect for French toast on Sunday.
I learned to take only what I could finish, to save everything, to feel genuine guilt over a spoiled apple in the back of the fridge. My wealthier friends would toss half-eaten meals without a second thought. For them, food waste was unfortunate. For us, it was unconscionable.
This expectation went beyond just clearing your plate. It meant understanding the value of every grocery dollar and respecting the effort that went into earning it.
3) Get a job the moment you're legally able to work
The day I turned 16, I wasn't planning a big party. I was filling out job applications. This wasn't about building character or learning responsibility, though those were side benefits. This was about contributing to my own expenses and learning that money comes from work, period.
While my upper class peers spent summers at sleepaway camps or family vacations in Europe, I was bagging groceries and saving every penny for textbooks and college application fees. The expectation was clear: if you want something beyond the basics, you work for it.
There was no discussion about whether I wanted to work. Working was as expected as going to school. It taught me the value of a dollar in ways no financial literacy class ever could.
4) Fix it yourself or live without it
When something broke in our house, calling a repair person was the absolute last resort. YouTube didn't exist when I was young, but we had library books on home repair and a toolbox full of hand-me-down tools.
I learned to unclog drains, patch drywall, and troubleshoot computer problems not as fun DIY projects, but because professional help was a luxury we couldn't afford. If we couldn't fix it ourselves, we'd either live without it or save up for months to pay for repairs.
This created a mindset of radical self-sufficiency. While it made me resourceful, it also meant carrying the weight of knowing that every problem had to be solved with our own hands and limited resources.
5) Hand-me-downs are not optional
New clothes were for the start of the school year and special occasions. Everything else came from older cousins, thrift stores, or clearance racks. Rejecting hand-me-downs because they weren't your style wasn't an option. You wore what you were given and were grateful for it.
I became an expert at making clothes work, mixing and matching to create outfits that felt somewhat my own. The idea of having a "personal style" was a luxury reserved for those who could afford to choose their clothes based on preference rather than availability.
This expectation extended beyond clothes to toys, books, and even school supplies. If it still worked, you used it, regardless of how outdated or worn it looked.
6) Your extracurriculars must have a purpose
Activities weren't chosen based on interest or passion. They were strategic investments in your future. Join the debate team because it looks good on college applications. Take up volunteering because you need those service hours. Learn an instrument if, and only if, we can borrow one from the school.
The idea of doing something purely for enjoyment was foreign. Every activity needed to serve a purpose: building your resume, developing marketable skills, or potentially leading to scholarships. My friends from wealthy families could explore pottery or horseback riding just for fun. For us, if it didn't contribute to your future success, it was an indulgence we couldn't afford.
7) Family comes first, always
In lower middle class families, the expectation of putting family first isn't just about love and loyalty. It's about survival. When grandma needs help with groceries, you go. When your cousin needs a ride to work, you provide it. When mom needs you to watch your younger siblings, your plans get cancelled.
This wasn't seen as an inconvenience but as a given. The family network was our safety net, and maintaining it required everyone's participation. You couldn't opt out because you had other plans. Individual desires took a back seat to family needs, always.
Upper class kids had the luxury of prioritizing their own schedules, their own goals. For us, being available to help family wasn't negotiable.
8) Never let anyone know you're struggling financially
Perhaps the most insidious expectation was maintaining the appearance that everything was fine. You never admitted you couldn't afford something. Instead, you said you weren't interested. You didn't mention that you were eating ramen for the third night in a row. You smiled and said you'd already eaten.
This code of silence around financial struggle meant carrying a constant weight of performance. Keeping up appearances was exhausting, but the alternative, admitting you were struggling, felt like admitting failure.
Final thoughts
These expectations shaped me in ways I'm still discovering. They gave me resilience, work ethic, and resourcefulness that serve me well today. But they also left scars: anxiety about money that persists despite financial stability, difficulty accepting help, and a complicated relationship with success.
If you grew up with these expectations, know that you're not alone. The strengths you developed are real and valuable. The struggles are valid too. And if you didn't experience these expectations, perhaps this gives you a window into why your lower middle class friends might approach life differently.
Understanding these different realities helps us build bridges across economic divides. Because while we can't change our past, we can create more understanding in our present.
