Debt. Just the word can make your stomach churn, right? It’s like a shadow that follows you everywhere—whispering that you’re not good enough, that you messed up, that you’re failing at adulthood. I’ve been there.
There was a time when I felt an overwhelming sense of shame every time I swiped my card. I’d avoid looking at my bank statements because the numbers felt like a slap in the face. I would lie awake at night wondering how I let things get so bad.
But here’s the thing: shame can either bury you… or fuel you. For me, the day I decided to stop running from that shame was the day I started changing my life.
Let’s be real. We all wear masks—especially when we’re drowning in debt. I smiled through dinner dates, shopped like nothing was wrong, and pretended I had it all together. But deep down, I was suffocating.
One day, I opened all my credit card statements, wrote down every single amount I owed, and just sat with the reality of it. Yes, it hurt. I cried. I felt embarrassed. But facing the truth was the first step toward freedom.
Instead of seeing my debt as proof that I was a failure, I started seeing it as a lesson I needed to learn.
I asked myself tough questions:
Why did I keep spending money I didn’t have?
Was I using shopping as a way to fill emotional gaps?
What habits got me here, and how can I break them?
Shame turned into determination when I realized that I was in control. I had the power to rewrite my story, and I wasn’t going to let my past decisions define me.
The hardest part about paying off debt is staying motivated. So, I made my “why” impossible to ignore.
I printed a photo of the life I wanted—a cozy, debt-free home and a happy, stress-free smile—and stuck it on my fridge. Every time I wanted to impulse shop or order something online, I looked at that picture and asked myself, “Does this purchase take me closer to this life or farther away?”
In the past, I’d beat myself up over every financial mistake. But that cycle of guilt was exhausting and unhelpful. Instead, I started celebrating small wins—like paying off $100 or sticking to my weekly budget.
I treated every little victory as proof that I was stronger than my debt. And honestly, this shift in mindset made me fall in love with the process.
One of the hardest yet most healing things I did was talk about my debt out loud. I shared my struggles with a close friend. I even joined online communities where people were also working toward debt freedom.
It’s wild how freeing it is to admit, “Hey, I’m not perfect, but I’m trying.” Instead of hiding, I found support, accountability, and motivation.
I used to think of budgeting as something restrictive, like a financial diet that meant saying no to everything I loved. But I was wrong. When I created a realistic budget that reflected my actual lifestyle, it felt like a plan for freedom, not punishment.
I started by tracking every single expense—even the $5 coffee I swore didn’t matter. By the end of the first month, I was shocked at how much “invisible spending” I was doing.
I cut out the non-essentials I didn’t even enjoy (like random Amazon buys).
I kept low-cost pleasures (like making lattes at home and cozy movie nights).
I made sure to assign every dollar a “job”—whether it was for bills, debt payments, or savings.
This new system gave me clarity and control. For the first time, I felt like I was driving the car instead of being dragged behind it.
Paying off debt can feel like climbing a mountain barefoot. That’s why I needed quick wins to keep my spirits high. I focused on my smallest debts first.
Every time I wiped out one account, I celebrated like I had just run a marathon! This boost of confidence gave me the energy to tackle the bigger debts. By the time I reached my largest balance, I already had proof that I could crush this.
Instead of seeing debt payoff as a boring struggle, I turned it into a game. I set challenges like:
No online shopping for 30 days.
Spending-free weekends (hello, cozy homemade brunches!).
Using only cash for small purchases to avoid swiping my card.
I made it fun by competing with myself, and every time I “won,” I felt more empowered. These small challenges added up to hundreds of dollars saved in just a few months.
This one was tough. I used to say “yes” to everything—dinners, birthdays, weekend trips—even if it meant putting it on my credit card. But learning to say no was my ultimate superpower.
Instead of avoiding invitations (and feeling like a bad friend), I started suggesting cheaper alternatives:
A picnic in the park instead of dinner at a fancy restaurant.
A movie night at home instead of pricey outings.
Homemade potluck parties where everyone brings a dish.
To my surprise, my friends loved these ideas. I realized that real friendships aren’t about spending money; they’re about spending time.
When things got hard (and trust me, they did), I would close my eyes and visualize the moment I made my final payment. I’d picture myself shouting, crying tears of relief, and walking into my future without that heavy burden.
This mental image kept me going on days when I felt like giving up. It reminded me that the pain of discipline was temporary, but the joy of freedom would last forever.
At some point, I stopped thinking of debt as “just another bill” and started treating it like a life-or-death situation. Every spare dollar I had went toward my balance.
I sold things I didn’t need—clothes, furniture, even old gadgets.
I picked up side gigs like pet sitting and freelance work.
I cut subscriptions that weren’t truly adding joy to my life.
When you treat debt with urgency, you make progress so much faster. And seeing those balances drop month by month? Unbelievably motivating.
One of my biggest mistakes in the past was celebrating with… more spending! This time, I found creative ways to celebrate without breaking the bank.
For example:
When I paid off my first credit card, I made a special “debt-free dinner” at home with candles and music.
When I hit the halfway point, I treated myself to a nature hike and a bubble bath day—totally free and soul-soothing.
Celebrating in this mindful way helped me feel proud without undoing all my hard work.
This might be the most important step of all. Carrying shame is heavy, and it can keep you stuck. I had to look at my younger self—the one who made impulsive purchases and ignored bills—and say, “It’s okay. You didn’t know better. But now you do.”
Forgiveness freed me. It gave me the strength to focus on building a better future instead of hating my past.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that debt is not a reflection of your worth. It’s just a chapter in your life, not the entire story. The same shame that used to paralyze me became my greatest source of motivation.
Every time you choose to face your debt, you’re rewriting your story. You’re proving to yourself that you are capable, resilient, and worthy of a brighter future.