My son called us on face time last night. He has been sighing about the amount of stuff his gf has (ironically both of my grown children have chosen partners who have "a lot" of stuff. - although in both cases the stuff has been intensified by premature inheritance - one father died and the other walked out, both mothers downsized immensely and moved. So you have millennials with pianos, full sets of bar ware, tools, and antique living room sets)
anyway, he walked us around the new apartment and showed it off. He was really happy. Previously they have been living in "we can afford this" housing. Now he has a really good job, and she is also working, so "we can afford this" has changed - overnight they are middle class. The apartment is 900 sq ft with a one car plus garage. He said "our apartment is finally the right size! We have unpacked everything and put it away and I can come home without having stuff everywhere."
dh said "that has never happened with us." And he looked at me somewhere between frustrated and sad.
today I am feeling discouraged. I'm working so hard and I still have so far to go.