Talking about money feels dirty.
I think like many, I grew up in a household where money wasn’t discussed in front of the kids. My parents, like many loving parents, didn’t want to see their children fraught about the state of their family’s finances. This was fine. We didn’t get new shoes every six months, only when our feet grew or the shoes were tattered to the point of no return. We ate at home – I can count on my hands when we went out to a restaurant. One time my Girl Scout leader told me that my dad’s check bounced. That was the extent of the awareness I had. Once my older brother started college and the conversation about student loans began with him, things started making sense.
I have a student loan debt amount that is a scary number you hear horror stories about. They’re the “good” kind – government-sponsored, low interest. Safe, y’know? Perfectly acceptable for an eighteen-year-old to sign up to pay off in four years. I wasn’t a good kind of loan holder either; I didn’t return the extra or pay off some while in school. I determined I deserved that money and I would use it on the extravagant “school-related” expenses (computers, supplies, textbooks) and housing. I had jobs throughout college but that money went to fun stuff like seeing movies or going to concerts. Debt wasn’t something I saw as a real, present thing that I could have moved mountains to deal with at the moment. Even though twenty bucks felt like a lot of money, $20,000 for school seemed like nothing. My degrees weren’t in fields that were known for well-paying careers either. Ignorance was absolute bliss.
In grad school (which was paid for with federal graduate student loans), I applied for a credit card. I convinced myself that was the way to address my credit score, to start “learning how to pay for debt”. This was an opportunity to acquire new, “bad” debt at 14% interest. I made a few, smart choices – I stuck with my bank’s credit card, making it easy to stay aware of my balance, and that was the only one I opened. My bank gave me a $5,000 limit, which was because of my excellent credit score eye-roll emoji. For three months, I paid it off. Then I didn’t. Suddenly I was working on paying off a $3,000 balance, then $4,000. I paid off more the minimum, which is good right? I never missed a payment which is also good. My bank rewarded me by upping the credit limit to $6,500. Banks are dumb and good at their jobs. I worked up a balance of $5,000, which I comfortably maintained after graduating in 2016 and for all of 2018.
Yesterday, I made the final payment towards my credit card balance. I started a massive pay-off effort in January, then again in April. You can see why this feels fucking monumental. I’ve logged into my bank’s website to see that $0.00 three times today.
I almost did this two years ago but then accrued a few thousand in debt in a matter of months. How does this happen? Money feels so fake when you have a credit card. It’s “swipe now, think later”. It’s alarming how easy it is to pay for that trip or buy the thing you absolutely-do-but-don’t need.
According to some, my student loans are supposed to be good longterm debt. According to others, I should spend every free moment working to pay it off. I’m somewhere in the middle of that advice. I want it gone and will begin to work towards that, but I’m not going to dump every cent into it. I’d also like to finish saving some money, a “safety net”, to keep me from financial ruin if I ever get laid off. With the credit card debt gone, I’ve opened myself to new possibilities of what I can do with my money. I’ve had a narrative that I don’t have enough money so I can’t possibly do responsible things. This is a deceptive mindset that kept me from holding myself accountable for my spending. I have enough money to live comfortably, to pay down debt, and to save. My salary isn’t incredible, but it’s workable. I tell myself all the time – I have enough money, I can do this – and look at what I just did.
Debt is stupid and hard to live without. They tell you not to live beyond your means. Is that with debt, or without?
All Things Emily 