Girls That Invest

The nine-year-old analyst and me

The world of investing wasn't one I grew up in. My first memory of the stock market took place on the school playground in my fourth year of primary school. A friend was telling me excitedly how she understood what those company charts on the news meant — you know, the ones with all the green arrows with numbers next to them. Her dad had explained to her how to read the stocks on the TV and she seemed pretty proud of herself.

‘What is this “investing” thing?’ I asked myself. I too had seen those tables with the dollar signs next to companies like Apple or the USD. I knew what Apple was, I knew what USD was, but nothing made intuitive sense.

That evening I went home eagerly waiting for the 6 o'clock news to arrive so I could ask my dad the same question. He tried his best to explain the ups and the downs and the trends, but I just didn't get it. Looking back, I don't think he quite understood it either. But when you're nine you don't think that way. You assume you're just not smart enough for it.

It's not for me.

I'm not good with numbers.

I'm just naturally bad at maths, I could never invest!

Or, my favourite,

Look at me, I'm no rich man in a suit, I don't belong here.

These were the thoughts I had about myself, about money and about the world for the next 15 years. I knew I was somewhat smart — at least in academia. But investing just didn't. Make. Sense. So it must just be me, right?

The next run-in I had with investing was in my first ...