AARP Hearing Center
Spending Money on Myself Made Me Feel Guilty
I barely got by as a single mom with three kids. I felt irresponsible shopping just for me — until a text from my boyfriend changed my attitude
Monica Garwood
“Let’s see what we can do to get you on a budget.”
As soon as I read my boyfriend’s text, I froze. And just like that, the familiar feeling of guilt overtook me. He can’t look at my finances. No way. I knew he was trying to help, but I believed that anyone who saw how much I spent on dinners, hair and random gifts for my children would condemn me as imprudent. No one had been privy to my spending habits in a long time, not since before my divorce, and to be honest, I liked it that way.
More Ways to Benefit
- Related Benefit 1
- Related Benefit 2
- Related Benefit 3
- Related Benefit 4
- Related Benefit 5
My ex-husband was “good” with money. He budgeted, resisted discretionary spending like dinners out or new clothes, and tracked my spending to the penny. He was condescending. He made jokes about “money burning a hole in my pocket” and called me irresponsible and careless. He vowed never to share a bank account with me (and he didn’t). It didn’t take long for me to internalize his words. Soon, with every purchase, my guilt and shame grew. At some point, I accepted I was simply “bad with money” and probably always would be.
No wonder we eventually divorced. And when we did, I was finally free to spend however I wanted. But there was one other problem: I was a single mom of three, living on $50,000 a year. I finally had the freedom to spend, but not the means to do so.
Ethels Tell All
Writers behind The Ethel newsletter aimed at women 55+ share their personal stories related to the joys and challenges of aging.
And so a new kind of guilt was born: the guilt of constantly borrowing from family, carrying debt and imagining that the people lending me money were silently judging my every purchase. There was also the guilt of having to choose between necessities — for example, the rent, a birthday gift for the kids or the car payment. No matter what I chose, it felt like the wrong choice.
I am finally in a better place financially. I can afford the necessities, and I can’t remember the last time I paid a bill late or asked my loved ones for a loan. Even though the days of my micromanaging ex (and my poverty) are behind me, the guilt hasn’t disappeared. It lingers. I still feel it with every purchase.
So when my boyfriend offered to help me make a budget, those feelings resurfaced. I didn’t want his help. The shame crept in. And I responded:
“I don’t want you to look at my bank account.”
His response: “I understand. I’m not here to judge.”
He wasn’t getting it, so I dug deeper. “I’m ashamed,” I said. “It’s been a month of reckless spending.”
And then he said the surprising words I didn’t know I needed to hear:
“That doesn’t make any sense — all you do is spend on people you care about. How could anyone call your spending reckless? If you ask me, it’s been a month of careful spending. I’m not your ex-husband. That’s in the past. You have the kindest heart of anyone I know. What you really deserve is to find a way to enjoy spending more freely, and without guilt. You give so much of yourself to create amazing experiences for the people around you. And it’s my job to make sure someone is doing that for you, too.”
I couldn’t believe the words I was reading. Was this even possible? Someone knew about my spending and wasn’t belittling me? Not only that, but he was praising me for it? I read his words over and over. I let them sink in. I cried. And by the fourth time I read them, I saw something I had not seen before. I saw that I was not all of those labels I had given myself. I thought that maybe I wasn’t reckless and irresponsible after all. And I realized just how much those labels, the guilt and shame, and the resulting assault on my self-esteem had been affecting me — for decades!
My boyfriend meant the words he said. He wasn’t judging me. He was there to help. He actually supported my spending and gave me confidence in my own financial decisions. I allowed myself to believe his words, and something wonderful happened next. With those labels removed, I finally felt ready to open a savings account — and, for the first time in years, considered the idea of marriage again.
AARP essays share a point of view in the author’s voice, drawn from expertise or experience, and do not necessarily reflect the views of AARP.
AARP Membership
Join AARP for only $15 per year with automatic renewal. Get instant access to members-only products and hundreds of benefits, a free second membership, and a subscription to AARP The Magazine.
You Might Also Like