It’s most likely just a ‘me’ thing, but I can’t hold a dollar to save my life.

The rate at which money enters and leaves my bank account is mortifying. It’s at a point where I don’t like checking my transaction history because I’ll either get upset or feel ashamed.

These past couple of weeks, I’ve had the worst spender’s guilt of my life.

Now, you’re probably wondering why. Is it that I don’t have that much money to begin with? Is it that my purchases were purely for euphoric reasons and not necessities? Is it because I grew up with less money than others, and now I feel sad about the fact that I not only have this privilege now but would’ve killed for it as a kid?

All of the above, to some degree. These three things have culminated and festered since I started my personal campaign to start being less serious and getting in touch with my inner child. From planning my not-at-all-satire Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles seventeenth birthday bash at Chuck E. Cheese to collecting Littlest Pet Shop toys (for no other reason than self-fulfillment), a lot of money has exited my metaphorical pockets, and it’s put a damper on my mood.

Of course, the whole point of money is to be able to have fun with it, but how can I have fun when my decisions are weighing me down? All I can think about is how much Little-Me would’ve wanted to be able to do these things or how I made it out of such a rough patch financially unscathed. My mom worked job after job day after day, and here I am, going ham with whatever money I acquire as soon as I get a notification from Navy Federal.

Realistically, I know it’s normal to buy things, and I shouldn’t be upset at myself for it, especially since past-me wouldn’t judge someone for having the means to make themself a little happier. 

That still doesn’t make it any easier to stop the initial excitement of getting a package from dissolving into overwhelming anxiety or sadness.

I have to understand that as long as I’m not running my balance into the negatives and I can manage my spending habits, I have nothing to feel guilty about. Nine-year-old Faith would have a field day with how I live my life, so I should too.