Every so often in college, I’d try to step away from the pressure and just enjoy being a young adult.

I still remember staring at ticket prices on my phone for festivals, events, games, or whatever was going on on days we may or may not have had class. We would stumble back home in the dawn hours, either dragging ourselves to a morning lecture on two hours of sleep or clocking into a work shift pretending everything was normal. Then, we’d spend the rest of the day trying to piece together what happened the night before. To this day I still don’t know how I did it… well it cost me a few days of fasting and credit card debt. I’d basically forecast my next month of spending, but we don’t need to get into the math now.

I want to explain. I know from the outside it looks like the classic young broke college student decision. And there’s a whole industry of advice pointed at students like me, explaining that this is why we stay broke. My parents sometimes say the same. They say skip the concert. Skip the fun. Skip the fancy dinner. Save the money. It’s true, you should.

I just think it shouldn’t always be that way.

Here’s what I knew: I’d be at one of these events one night, broke, in the cheapest seats, eating the $15 nachos and $8 water, usually with some friends. Surrounded by people just like me, (only in better seats). I knew I was supposed to have those nights. Not “supposed to” like entitled. Supposed to like in, this experience existed, it was happening in my city, in my lifetime, so why not? And every now and then, I’d feel this overwhelming guilt that I was doing something wrong. Concerts, weekend trips, spontaneous nights, the whole category of experience, that I was somehow being too careless and taking advantage of having this freedom.

To put it simple, I felt this way because my older family members and close friends are Mexican immigrants who had to make massive sacrifices just to live here at a young age. Me visiting Mexico on a Puerto Vallarta trip and coming back home to California is something they’re unable to do. I feel that weight most when I give them my trip recaps, wishing more than anything that we could all experience those places together one day. It’s a hard discussion to have but let’s face the truth together, we shouldn’t feel guilty for having a little fun every now and then.

I reminisce about all the all-nighters my friends and I would pull during finals week, only for them to lead into random side quests like a bar crawl or hosting crowds at the old house. We’d wake up the next morning with school notifications showing we passed our finals with a baseline 70%. Okay the last part was an exaggeration but you get my point. You should allow yourself to have that kind of fun.

I’m not advocatingfor recklessness either. Every “irresponsible” purchase I made in college was researched like a term paper. I knew what I was trading a week of comfort for, every single time. Your priorities matter, getting the degree, arriving at work on time, and showing up for family, but let yourself be in the moment. Because guilt like this never really goes away, it just stops making decisions for you.

I used to think honoring my family’s sacrifices meant living exactly how they wanted me to. But it was rooted in traditional immigrant beliefs, which meant living ordinarily, saving everything, avoiding staying out late, no expensive dinners, and certainly notmoving out to live with friends. Eventually, my perspective shifted, realizing that nobody leaves their home country at a young age just so their kid can sit at home feeling bad about a concert ticket. The struggles they endured weren’t so that I could inherit them, but so I wouldn’t have to.

My parents skipped the concerts because there was no choice. Somewhere along the way, I’d been sacrificing my own happiness just to prove to them that their struggles weren’t in vain. The trips, the shows, the random spontaneous nights with people I love, that’s not me spending their sacrifice. It’s proof that their sacrifice paid off.

So if you’re at the checkout screen right now, broke, doing the forecast, feeling the guilt warming up, make sure you handle your priorities first. Studying, work shifts, family time. Nobody’s excusing you from those. But once they’re covered, buy the ticket. Let the guilt hit for a moment, then remember where you came from andwhat it took for you to be able to “afford” nights like these.

Somewhere in Mexico there’s a whole side of my family that never got to choose any of this. I think about them in the cheap seats sometimes, mid-show, squinting to see the performer.

I’m there for them too.

Nobody taught us how to have fun without the guilt. Maybe nobody taught you either. That’s exactly who I write for. Subscribe to the letter. It’s free, which matters, because I’ve seen your forecast.