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I live in Los Angeles, I have no kids, and I'm about to be 35. My parents still pay for my cellphone bill and a monthly music streaming subscription.
My dad and stepmom called me one day, mentioning they'd be switching from Spotify to Apple Music. Spotify had just announced increased pricing — the second price increase in one year — and my parents had received an offer for a free trial of Apple Music.
Did I use Spotify a lot? They asked. Would it be a big deal to move to Apple Music? I tried to mask mild panic in my response.
I wondered if they were asking if canceling Spotify was OK with me. Maybe this was more of a courtesy call — a heads-up that they'd be doing this rather than a temperature check. It's not like they need my permission. They are, after all, footing the bill.
This financial situation has gone on for years. I've managed to dodge my way out of direct conversation about it with my parents — at all costs. My sister and I have discussed it together at length. We continue with an ask-no-questions policy.
It made sense once when I was in college and didn't have a full-time job. At that point, I was fortunate to rely on my boomer parents for tuition, rent, health insurance, and a meal plan.
The money I earned from my $ 8-an-hour part-time job funded my "booze and shoes" checking account. I warmed up to paying $6.59 for three pairs of socks and $10.79 for toilet paper. I was getting used to spending my own money on things that once appeared to be guaranteed, but my parents were still covering the big things.
I graduated from college and got a job. I paid my own rent. I learned to complain about car insurance. At 26, I paid a health insurance premium for the first time. Now, if the receipts collecting on the floor of my car and at the bottom of every reusable canvas bag indicate anything, it's that I really, truly am financially independent.
Except for one or two things, like my cellphone bill.
Do I feel guilty about it? A bit, but not really — not anymore. The guilt I used to carry about receiving financial support from my parents stacked up as high as the bills on my kitchen counter. After over 10 years and many bills paid on my own, I've let go.
Does it help me in this economy? Definitely, yes. One less bill to pay gives me more financial freedom and more power over the decisions I make for myself. Depending on my dad for one last bill makes me less dependent on anyone else and more self-reliant.
My parents gave me stepping stones. My dad had the income to do so, and he wanted me to have the best start in life. He had the means to, so why wouldn't he? I was a grateful and fortunate recipient.
I'm not married yet, which somehow has a lot to do with my current status on my parents' cellphone plan. A long time ago, it seemed like once my sister and I both grew up, got married, and had kids, we'd start our own family cellphone plan. But life didn't turn out that way.
All this might be changing if I get engaged soon. I imagine I'll be married to my now-boyfriend in a couple of years. Will I join his plan? That opens up a whole new swirl of possibilities, depending on how we decide to manage our finances.
My parents could ask me at any time to pay them each month for my bill. But that's never how our family has operated. I'd run to the store to pick up milk with the $10 my dad gave me, and he'd insist I keep the change.
Perhaps the noble thing to do would be to bring it up myself. Put my foot down and insist that it's the right thing to do. Without a house, a husband, or kids, though, it still feels like I'm striving to make it in this world. The little extra support that I secretly receive each month goes a long way. Admittedly, it's a huge relief, even if it's just a monthly cellphone bill and a streaming service here and there.
I figure it all boils down to a simple explanation: each line is cheaper with a family plan, which saves everybody money. If they took us off the plan, we'd all collectively pay more. But don't ask me how that works or how to get a better deal on your cellphone plan. I've never paid for one.
