The big payoff

Truth bomb coming in hot: Whoever said money can’t buy happiness was never $40,000 in credit card debt.
 
Yeah, yeah. I get the essence of that old maxim —if you’re generally an unhappy person, no accumulation of physical wealth will change that. Misery is a choice, happiness comes from within … yada, yada.
 
For quite a few years now, I’ve chosen gratitude over wallowing, and my life is pretty amazing as a result. I don’t do math very well (I’m a writer, after all), but this fact adds up for me time and again: The more I count my blessings, the better my life gets.
 
All that being said, I am here to tell you that when I made the final payment on my last remaining credit card, the balance of which had been hanging on by its gnarly-ass fingernails for nearly 20 years, I experienced a palpable wave of relief and joy the likes of which I only felt one other time in my life, and that was after the birth of my child.

---

It turns out that money in the form of debt relief makes me real fucking happy. 
 
So, how did an otherwise intelligent and conscientious person get in the hole to the tune of 40 large? Let me ‘splain.
 
I wish I was one of those people who learned to manage her money early in life, but knowing how to balance a checkbook does not set one on a lifelong path toward financial wellbeing. And that’s about as much as I knew about personal money management as a young adult.
 
All ledger balancing teaches you is how to keep from getting overdrawn at the bank, which I admit is a handy skill. I haven’t bounced a check in 30 years, thankyouverymuch. (Kids, a check is a piece of paper that we old folks used to put in an envelope and drop in a big metal box to pay bills.)
 
But I digress.
 
What I did NOT learn in school, from a two-hour Junior Achievement class or from my parents is how to live within my means.
 
When I wandered up to the Citibank booth in the student center quad during freshman orientation, I may as well have had a bullseye on my forehead. I was easily enticed by the promise of “free” money. So, off I went, an 18-year-old sucker with a $250 limit at an interest rate of 22 percent.
 
Way back in 1990, college kids were easy prey for the Citibanks of the world. Companies weren’t required to put the disclosure you see on statements today that says it will take you 150 years to pay off your balance if you only make the minimum payment. I had no idea that my shopping spree at Express was going to ultimately cost me four times what was on my receipt.
 
The shopping trip that maxed out my card in one fell swoop was the first in a long line of transactions that gave me short-term gratification and long-term guilt.
 
There’s a strong possibility that a disclosure on my statement wouldn’t have made a whit of difference in my purchasing habits, given who I was at the time. And unfortunately, who I continued to be until about 10 years ago — always chasing immediate relief rather than taking a deep look at my own shortcomings. Not an excuse for my behavior, but certainly a reason.
 
Anyway, I worked a part-time job, so I was able to make the minimum payments on time. So, guess what? Those Citibank fuckers raised my limit. And then guess what? I shopped and maxed it out again.
 
As long as I kept up with the payments, my limit steadily increased. My good credit also got the attention of other predators, er, I mean lending institutions, not to mention retail stores that offered their own cards, which coincidentally came with a promotional discount on my first purchase … so before I knew it, I had a wallet full of depleted cards and a bunch of random shit I didn’t need and couldn’t afford. And all of this was before my 21st birthday!

---

I would like to take a moment to say that I take full responsibility for my poor choices, and I wouldn’t change any of them because they made me who I am. But can you see how easy it was for me to get sucked into the debt cycle?? I know I’m not the only one whose willful ignorance made them easy game.
 
OK, so that was Take One of Debt Hell. Here’s Take Two.
 
By age 22, I was married to, let’s just say A VERY UNMOTIVATED INDIVIDUAL, and I was pregnant. Circumstances not being ideal, I defaulted on my credit card payments. My parents took pity on me and paid them off, to the tune of about $1,500. (Thanks again, Mom and Dad!!)
 
By age 25, I was divorced with a toddler, back in school finishing my degree, and my credit score was for shit. Along came Capitol One with an offer I couldn’t refuse. A card with a $200 limit and a 26 percent interest rate that would help me rebuild my credit.
 
And for real, y’all, that’s ALL I intended to do with it. I eventually wanted to buy a house, so I needed to get right with TransUnion.
 
Unfortunately, the cycle soon started all over again. Except this time, instead of a new pair of jeans at Express, I was charging clothes for my son and emergency daycare expenses. OK, that’s reasonable, right?

But just a taste was never enough for Ms. Addictive Personality. Pretty soon, my guilt over having to be both mother and father to my kid gave me an excuse to start charging furniture, toys and vacations. All for the benefit of the child, you see. **SIGH**
 
Once again, I was living the life I thought I wanted, and not the one I had. Good (and ample) credit gave me the means. But it also placed a Wile E. Coyote-style anvil on top of my head.
 
Crushing debt is a real thing, man. At my worst 10 years ago, I had six credit cards totaling the aforementioned $40K.
 
I was making a decent, middle class salary at the time, but I couldn’t get my arms around how to pay off what I owed. So I just paid the minimum and tried to ignore the fact that I wasn’t making a dent.
 
Interestingly, it wasn’t until I took a huge financial risk and started my own business that I began to see a way out of the weeds.
 
An elderly relative passed away and left me a little bit of money, which launched my debt repayment plan. Over the past eight years, I have paid off about $28,000 with my own blood, sweat and more than a few tears. I got really aggressive with my payment plan two years ago, and when I saw a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel this summer, I upped my financial game even more.
 
And a few days ago, VICTORY WAS MINE! Seeing a $0 balance on my banking app gave me a more euphoric high than the last time I actually got high almost nine years ago. Read more about that here.
 
This is not to say that I am totally debt free. I still have a car loan and mortgage, at very reasonable rates, thankyoubabyJesus. And then there’s the big, hairy grizzly — my student loans. That's a rant for another day. I will probably be dead before those are paid off. But hey, I successfully conquered one mountain of debt I never thought was possible, so there’s hope.
 
I mentioned earlier that I did not learn how to manage money from my parents. That’s not true. I learned how to do it badly. There were lean times when they lived off credit and did the balance transfer lambada more times than I can count during my childhood. My dad and stepmom are doing well these days, but my mom still struggles a bit. And let’s be frank, I don’t have a lot of savings, so I’m one household or health emergency away from being back in the hole. No judgment. We do what we have to do to get by.
 
But FINALLY, at 46 years old, I’ve figured out that one should not count credit card limits as disposable income. My No. 1 rule to live by today is: If I can’t pay cash, I ain’t buying it.
 
A couple of months ago, I was talking to my son, who is now 23, about how hard I’ve been working to get out of debt. To give him some perspective, I said, “Remember that trip we took to Disney World when you were nine? Yeah, I’m still paying for it.”
 
His eyes got as wide as saucers because shit got real. I’d love it if that warning keeps him from making the same mistakes I did, but who knows? I had walk through it to learn from it. But thank goodness, I finally did!!
 
I have to admit, I’m pretty proud of myself for breaking out of debtors’ prison of my own making. If I can do it, anyone can. It’s a hell of a lot of work, but the payoff (pun TOTALLY intended) is so worth it!

---