I used to indulge – hard core. 
There was no outfit I could buy that had a price tag too outlandish. I own Fendi and Coach handbags, Chanel pumps and for too much Tiffany & Co. jewelry. There was nothing out of my limit – if I wanted to go to the spa on a whim, just because there was a kink in my neck, I would indulge in a full day of treatments. I had 3 gym memberships – one to a large national chain, another to a private personal training center, and a third to a yoga studio. I knew my spending was reckless, but I didn’t care. I always justified pampering myself for no reason at all. This slowed down when I moved out of Canada and didn’t know what my next move would be. I became more conservative, but I would still go out to eat frequently, purchase new clothing when I was too lazy to do laundry, and I allowed some of my old habits to creep back into my life.
Then I peed on a stick that told me I was pregnant. That was 4 months ago – I’ve hardly spent a dime on myself since.
I didn’t realize it until 2 days ago, when I indulged in something I wanted for the first time in what surprisingly doesn’t feel like ages. I purchased two novels (I’ve been dying for a good read – I’m nearly finished the first book I picked up already), and a particular brand of American hot sauce that I simple adore. I bought the items off of amazon, and kept them in my cart for 1 month before actually making the purchase. One month!
Spending addiction was a severe issue of mine – I think it’s one that isn’t really talked about, since our society seems to encourage women indulging in new products, feeling good about themselves through purchasing and splurging. I didn’t leave myself broke, but looking back on it; I was definitely filling a void.
When I was 19 years old I was in a very serious car accident. While I was crossing the street (and had the right of way) early one Saturday morning on my way to my university gym, a pickup truck hit me – it was lights out.
The aftermath was excruciatingly painful in every way possible. My relationship of 4 years tried to sustain itself for another 2, but my partner and I drifted apart – we both suffered from posttraumatic stress disorder and didn’t seek help when we needed it. The day I recognized our relationship was done and ended it with him, I didn’t know how to console myself. I ignored my family and friends when they tried to reach out to me that day, and instead I went shopping. I had a temporary high from the needless things I bought, and this began a long-standing cycle for me.
Then I moved to Malta. I cut down hardcore, but as I said, there were still parts of me that wanted new, pretty things every now and then. When this baby entered my world, all of that stopped.
I keep telling people how this experience has changed me for the better – how I’m viewing the world with a sagely gaze, how I don’t put up with much of the treatment I would once withstand, and how my capacity to love and be loved is flourishing daily.
Nothing has sobered me up from my addiction more than knowing I’m responsible for another human being. No part of me feels burdened by him or her. In fact, I’m saving more aggressively now than I have in my entire life. I’m proud of myself in a way I haven’t been in a long time.
After the car accident I had mentioned, I was in a wheelchair for a few months. Then I was in crutches, walking with a limp. It took a year of excruciating physiotherapy to get myself where I could walk with a normal stride again. After that, I wanted to run. Doctors would give me conflicting views on whether or not I could get to a pace faster than walking without feeling pain, but I trained myself efficiently, safely and often. The first run I ever took was over a year after my accident. It was cold outside, and the sharp, chilly air made me feel exhilarated and alive. When I got back to my house after my brief 10 minute run, my knee was sore, but I knew it was a pain I could manage – one I could overcome. I closed the entrance door behind me leaned my shoulder blades against it, and slid down to the floor where I burst into tears. I was so proud of myself.
Spending was my new bad knee. It was my new issue that made me week, which took me out of my normal stride in many other aspects of my life. It deteriorated parts of me and weekend me on the whole. I have to thank my baby for coming into this world. This bundle of joy has made me feel like I just ran a marathon into financial health.
There was no outfit I could buy that had a price tag too outlandish. I own Fendi and Coach handbags, Chanel pumps and for too much Tiffany & Co. jewelry. There was nothing out of my limit – if I wanted to go to the spa on a whim, just because there was a kink in my neck, I would indulge in a full day of treatments. I had 3 gym memberships – one to a large national chain, another to a private personal training center, and a third to a yoga studio. I knew my spending was reckless, but I didn’t care. I always justified pampering myself for no reason at all. This slowed down when I moved out of Canada and didn’t know what my next move would be. I became more conservative, but I would still go out to eat frequently, purchase new clothing when I was too lazy to do laundry, and I allowed some of my old habits to creep back into my life.Then I peed on a stick that told me I was pregnant. That was 4 months ago – I’ve hardly spent a dime on myself since.
I didn’t realize it until 2 days ago, when I indulged in something I wanted for the first time in what surprisingly doesn’t feel like ages. I purchased two novels (I’ve been dying for a good read – I’m nearly finished the first book I picked up already), and a particular brand of American hot sauce that I simple adore. I bought the items off of amazon, and kept them in my cart for 1 month before actually making the purchase. One month!
Spending addiction was a severe issue of mine – I think it’s one that isn’t really talked about, since our society seems to encourage women indulging in new products, feeling good about themselves through purchasing and splurging. I didn’t leave myself broke, but looking back on it; I was definitely filling a void.
When I was 19 years old I was in a very serious car accident. While I was crossing the street (and had the right of way) early one Saturday morning on my way to my university gym, a pickup truck hit me – it was lights out.
The aftermath was excruciatingly painful in every way possible. My relationship of 4 years tried to sustain itself for another 2, but my partner and I drifted apart – we both suffered from posttraumatic stress disorder and didn’t seek help when we needed it. The day I recognized our relationship was done and ended it with him, I didn’t know how to console myself. I ignored my family and friends when they tried to reach out to me that day, and instead I went shopping. I had a temporary high from the needless things I bought, and this began a long-standing cycle for me.
Then I moved to Malta. I cut down hardcore, but as I said, there were still parts of me that wanted new, pretty things every now and then. When this baby entered my world, all of that stopped.
I keep telling people how this experience has changed me for the better – how I’m viewing the world with a sagely gaze, how I don’t put up with much of the treatment I would once withstand, and how my capacity to love and be loved is flourishing daily.
Nothing has sobered me up from my addiction more than knowing I’m responsible for another human being. No part of me feels burdened by him or her. In fact, I’m saving more aggressively now than I have in my entire life. I’m proud of myself in a way I haven’t been in a long time.
After the car accident I had mentioned, I was in a wheelchair for a few months. Then I was in crutches, walking with a limp. It took a year of excruciating physiotherapy to get myself where I could walk with a normal stride again. After that, I wanted to run. Doctors would give me conflicting views on whether or not I could get to a pace faster than walking without feeling pain, but I trained myself efficiently, safely and often. The first run I ever took was over a year after my accident. It was cold outside, and the sharp, chilly air made me feel exhilarated and alive. When I got back to my house after my brief 10 minute run, my knee was sore, but I knew it was a pain I could manage – one I could overcome. I closed the entrance door behind me leaned my shoulder blades against it, and slid down to the floor where I burst into tears. I was so proud of myself.
Spending was my new bad knee. It was my new issue that made me week, which took me out of my normal stride in many other aspects of my life. It deteriorated parts of me and weekend me on the whole. I have to thank my baby for coming into this world. This bundle of joy has made me feel like I just ran a marathon into financial health.
