I hated my father’s stinginess. I had everything I needed, but my wants were always a problem. Then, when I was in my mid-twenties, things changed. By that point, I was financially independent and hadn’t asked for mall money in quite some time. But I was going to grad school, and suddenly my father was offering. “Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it.” That’s what he said about anything I needed. No, not needed. Wanted. No strings. No questions asked. I knew something was terribly wrong.