My life of genteel poverty

Every year at the beginning of April, I tell myself I must top up my Isa before the 5 April deadline. And all my friends tell me I must. My financial adviser tells me I must. Articles in the press and adverts on social media tell me I must. And every year on 6 April I ask myself: why didn’t I top up my Isa?

Yes, I know investing in an Isa is the smart, sensible thing to do – so why haven’t I done it for the past ten years? Every year I have an excuse. Capitalism is about to collapse; it’s government-sanctioned tax avoidance; I should give the money to some worthy group of activists. But the real reason is fear. I can face almost anything – childhood trauma, root canal work, prostate examinations – but when it comes to personal finances, I’m a coward. Like many people, I belong to the Ostrich School of Personal Finance. Our motto is: Ignorance is Bliss.

But it’s also costly. This week I actually did take a closer look at my finances and I discovered that I was £45,000 poorer than I thought. I won’t bore you with the details, but there was a separate banking account that turned out wasn’t separate.

My fear of personal finances wouldn’t be so costly if I was loaded and could afford the luxury of not looking. But I’ve never been wealthy. When about 15 years ago I inherited money from the sale of my parents’ house, I had a nice lump sum that, had I used it wisely, could have meant I was nicely off today. I should have looked for the best rates of interest, increased my pension pot, listened to Radio 4’s Money Box and paid attention to Martin Lewis and Warren Buffett.