dear debt letter

Happy Friday! We have another dear debt letter for ya. Markita from Shewasdebtful.com is currently working her way through her student loan repayment plans while holding herself accountable to paying off debt. 

Dear Debt,

Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me? You remind me of my last relationship, where I kept running back to them, even though they treated me like crap.

Was it their fault that I sought the normalcy of the relationship? I say no. I got used to the treatment, but like that relationship, I am calling it quits. With them and with you.

There will not be anymore tears of frustration looking at the overwhelming number for two degrees that have yet to help me get a full-time professional job.

My depression will not stem from the knowledge that I will have to pay for 10 years worth of debt plus interest well into my 30s. Something that I promised myself I would NEVER do.

Freedom. I was doubtful that I could see the end of the tunnel, but just having the vision is already making me feel elated and confident that the future struggle will be worth it.

The credit cards are done too. My car will be paid off and any future large purchase will be paid in full. What, no house? Not in the near future.

Because you see debt, I plan to travel. By myself or with friends. Not with you or any form of you. I’m gonna be free from you and the chains you hold on me. It will all be over. I choose to move on. I choose to be free from you, debt. It will happen.

Markita from Shewasdebtful.com

Hey everyone! We have a great dear debt letter from Sarah Li Cain. Sarah Li Cain is the founder of High Fiving Dollars, a kick ass blog showing you that loving your money is not only a priority, but a necessity. You can download her free e-course “High Fiving Your Dollars” so you can have a loving relationship with your money. Oh yeah, her son thinks she’s pretty neat too.

Dear Debt,

Let me start off by saying thank you. I’m sure you don’t hear those two words too awful much, but I mean it. Thank you.

Why? Because, you debt, saved my life.

Of course, I didn’t know it at the time, but it didn’t take me long to figure out that the $9,000 I owed from swiping my credit card carelessly was your way of telling me that my current lifestyle was a sham. A bold-faced lie. In fact, watching those tears I shed drip down on that credit card statement was the moment of truth I had been seeking all along.

Someone I thought I was in love with was lying to me all along, and it took cold hard numbers to see what was really happening.

I took care of someone when I couldn’t take care of myself.  I spent all of my paycheck on this person. Actually now that I think about it, I was living paycheck to paycheck because of it. Using that credit card only helped to cover up the dire situation I was really in.

All those trips across Australia and New Zealand? You took care of it. My flight back to Canada so I could find a job to take care of the one I loved? You took care of that too. In fact, groceries and bus passes went on the credit card. And the more I spent, the more I felt like crap.

I thought the only way to feel worthy of anything was to spend money on other people. And the more worthless I felt, the more I spent.

I could shoot myself in the foot for spending that money on trips and gifts for this so-called loved one. But I’m not. In fact, debt, it taught me a valuable lesson that wasting all my time and energy on people and things that don’t matter can really take a toll on my overall well-being.

You taught me that I could further spiral down that destructive path of not loving myself, or buck up and get my life back on track.

And so I started saying goodbye. One credit card payment at a time. It wasn’t easy, and you didn’t let go so easily, but you knew our relationship wouldn’t last forever.

The less you were in my life, the more love I found. I found that loving myself was easier, and in turn loving others was too. When I finally said goodbye to you, I swore I saw a smile on that last credit card statement.

Even though we haven’t seen each other for over six years, I still think about you and what you did for me.

And don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope I never see you again.

Your loving friend,
Sarah

Hey everyone! Today we have a great dear debt letter from Heather. In the past you could find Heather at the mall stocking up on Coach purses, but these days you’ll find her blogging about saving money, minimalism, and simplifying life on Simply Save. She’s aggressively paying off her mortgage so that she can break up with debt for good!

Dear Debt,

We’re breaking up. I just don’t have room for you in my life anymore. You see, lately I’ve been embracing simplicity and minimalism. Anything that brings complications, negativity, or extra time and energy, has to go. And that means you. I’m making room in my life for the things that I love! I want more time and freedom to do what I want when I want. And that means getting rid of hassles, things I have to keep up with, and extra little tasks.

I know a majority of the world believes that debt brings the type of freedom I seek…to do what you want, when you want. But I don’t believe that myth anymore. Debt is a trap. Sure, it enables you to buy the things you want, but you won’t get much time to enjoy them because you have to work to pay off your debt. Debt traps you in places you may not want to be…like a job, home, or state. You don’t have the freedom to pack up and go on grand adventures and pursue passion projects. Because the bills keep coming. Debt can’t buy time.

I want my time back. All of it. I don’t want to deal with bills, balances, interest, paperwork, negotiations, maintenance and upkeep of the stuff I buy, anxiety, stress, worry, extra energy, keeping up with people I don’t even know…I don’t want all your baggage Debt!

We’ve had an off and on relationship for the past 10 years, Debt. You lure me and tempt me with your promises of fancy purses and shiny new cars, and then I remember I don’t like you and work like a madwoman to pay them off early. I don’t like the way you make me feel. And then you lure me back again…and the cycle repeats. But I’m breaking the cycle and untangling myself from your web.

I’m aggressively paying down my mortgage, slowly eliminating you over the next 7 years, or as soon as possible. That’s your only tie to me and it’s all the time we have left together.  I’m saving money and paying in full from now on Debt. No longer will you trick me into paying $235,000 for a $150,000 house, or $36,000 for a $30,000 car.

People say debt is “normal” or that some debt is “good debt”. Well then call me weird, because I’m done. I’m taking my time, energy, and money back. For good. Goodbye Debt.

Sincerely,

Heather

Hey everyone! We have a great dear debt letter from Mrs. CTC. A word from her…

My name is Mrs. CTC. I live in Europe with my husband, Mr. CTC, and our beloved children: Teenage CTC and Baby CTC. Due to a combination of bad luck and plain stupidity, we’ve come from a debt amount of roughly 30K, currently reduced to around 14K.  This debt has been a part of our lives for a good number of years now, but after making some major changes in our financial situation, we now hope to pay it all off in the next twelve to eighteen months. After killing this debt we aim at getting more (preferably total) financial freedom. We never again want to be in a situation where we can’t pay for our basic needs and lie awake at night because we’re trapped in our financial situation.  It’s been an interesting journey that I’ve come to blog about just recently. I have learned so much from personal finance blogs and hope to inspire others just the same through mine: From Cost To Coast.

Dear Debt,

You’re a number. A figure on the statements I receive. You’re an amount of money that I have to repay to a financial institution. A means to an end.

I wish I could play you down by referring to you only like that. But we both know there’s much more to you.

Once I believed you were the only way out, but you were just a different problem to substitute the first. A problem that would only stick around longer, and that would have to be repaid with an awful lot of interest.

But it’s not just interest that you cost me. I paid for you with freedom; I paid for you in tears. You cost me sleepless nights and fearful days. Above all, you made me feel ashamed and like a failure. You turned out not to be just a loan at a bank, but a loan from my future self. I set myself back in life by taking you on.

But there’s no ditching you. I can’t say that I’ve had enough and let you go. I have to go through you, and break you down bit by bit. Every cent I throw at you will be a memory of times past and decisions made, every single euro will symbolize my old sorrow. I’m facing everything and taking lessons while I relive it all.

You’re shrinking, thankfully, I can see past you. I can’t really remember who I was without you but I’m so anxious to learn who I’ll be after you’re gone. I’m looking forward to feeling freedom, possibilities and pride, and loving every minute of it. I now know the true value of those numbers, figures, and amounts of money.

Dear debt, soon we’ll part ways. I can’t say I enjoyed the ride with you, I’m most certainly not looking forward to ever seeing you back. I’ll do virtually anything so I don’t have to walk off with you ever again. But I’d like to thank you anyway. You’ve been a part of my life and I’ve gotten wiser because of you. Here’s to losing you forever.

Mrs. CTC

Hey everyone! We have a great dear debt letter from Stephanie. Stephanie is a graphic designer and co-owner of Bowerbird Atelier, where she designs paper goods and signage for weddings and events in the San Francisco Bay Area. She recently launched a card line on Etsy as a side hustle, sold some clothes on Ebay, and has even been collecting cans and bottles to sell at the recycling center (gotta love that CRV!) She has $27,803.88 in debt that she swears she will pay off before she’s 30 if it kills her.

Dear Debt,

It’s not me, it’s definitely you. I know we’ve had a long run. Heck, we were in it for the long haul: ‘Till debt do us part. But I have to end this.

Granted, I know our relationship isn’t as intense as it could have been. I was pretty lucky to have most of my college tuition paid for – but even a small amount of student loan debt has been so depressing. On top of that, I am really trying to make this whole solopreneur thing work, and I honestly think I have to choose between having a successful business and you. And guess what? I will absolutely choose myself, every time.

I have to say, I do want to thank you for making some things possible for me. I would most likely have been eating dry ramen for dinner for a while there if it wasn’t for you, so it was nice to have you around for a time. But this is definitely not a healthy relationship, and I don’t think it can last much longer.

So, Debt, kindly start packing your bags and looking for a new place to live. I know it’s going to take a while for you to completely remove yourself from my life, because we have become so involved, but that’s ok: as long as there is an end in sight, I can deal with you living on my couch and eating my cereal for a little bit longer.

Good Riddance,

Stephanie

Hey everyone! Hope you’re having a great week. We have another inspiring dear debt letter, this time from Mortimer. Mortimer is a recent law school graduate and father of three beautiful children working to overcome nearly $250,000 in student loan and other consumer debts. He blogs about his path to doing so in just five years—by December 2020—at Mortimer’s Money Machines. The blog contains free calculators to help you on your own path to debt freedom. He’d love to have your support and hear your stories about conquering debt! 

Dear Debt:

Thank you. Thank you for giving me, at long last, the clarity to find a solid vision plan for my future: financial independence. Thank you for teaching me how to exercise my own resourcefulness in times when I lost my job, had a new baby, and barely knew how to claw my way to the next car, credit, and student loan payment. Thank you for teaching me about finding happiness even in those times.

Thank you for teaching me the value of spending time with my kids because I didn’t have money to do anything else. Thank you for teaching me how to feed those children with thrifty meals that still provide lots of nutritional value. Thank you for reminding me about the incredible resource that is our public library, just over a mile from our house, and situated next to a massive public park. Thank you for encouraging me to bike to work and school with the kids.

But you’ve taught me all you can. It’s time to move on. Over $200,000 in student loan debt, and almost $250,000 in total debt is just too damn much. And now that you’ve taught me everything you can, I don’t need you anymore. As long as you’re around, I’ll never be free. So now I’m going to use everything you taught me to defeat you.

I bootstrapped and stayed up late while still working 50+ hour weeks to create a new website and debt freedom calculator so I could see just how quickly I can crush you. Then I created a true wage calculator so I could find ways to boost my real income without getting a raise. Now others can too.

Your days are numbered. You’ll be gone in five years, if not sooner, one way or another. Any last words?

With resolve,
—Mortimer

Hey everyone! We have a killer dear debt letter from Jen. Jen is an HR/Finance professional and frugal lifestyle blogger. Jen and her husband are working on a crazy goal of paying off $117,000 of student loan debt in just 3 years.  She writes about healthy eating on a budget, destroying debt, and living frugally on her blog Frugal Millennial.

Dear Debt,

I met you when I was just 18.  I thought I needed you. I knew you were bad for me, but I didn’t think I could live without you. I didn’t really understand how you would affect my life. I should have known better.

When I was 22, I decided I needed you even more and I decided to go to graduate school. I finished graduate school with $75,000 of student loan debt. I struggled to find a decent job and eventually settled for a temp job that paid half of what I had expected to earn.  

I needed a break from you, so I tried to ignore you for six months. When my grace period ended, I was forced to face you. I realized then that my monthly payments would be nearly as high as a mortgage. I became anxious and depressed. I worried about you constantly. You ruined my life.

You are the reason why my husband and I do not own a home, have not started a family, and haven’t saved any money for retirement yet. You stole my dream of living a better life than my parents had.

But you will not win. I am no longer confused by you or overwhelmed by your tactics. I know how you operate, and I know how to beat you. I will not tolerate you for the next ten years.

In three years, I will break up with you and I will never see you again.

My husband and I are living with my parents to save money, side hustling like crazy, and living an extremely frugal lifestyle.  The sacrifices we make are difficult, but it is worth it to get rid of you.

I cannot wait until the day when I will never have to see you again.

Hello debt fighters and hustlers! Today we have a great dear debt letter from Heather, a 27-year-old preschool teacher who is battling student loan debt. Enjoy!

Dear Debt,

You and I have not always seen eye to eye. Some days you think I should owe more than I do. Some days I just casually forget to pay you, but you are always there, and I think it’s time we consider breaking up. It’s definitely you, not me.

I have taken out a student loan from the federal government every year since 2006. That’s NINE LONG YEARS OF ACCUMULATION. Now, at  $73,421.30, I’d say I’ve collected enough of your junk. According to Navient, I can be rid of you by 2040 by paying the minimum due.

I will be 52 years old. Maybe I will get lucky and stay in this one non-profit job for the next ten years and be able to have the government waive the rest of my payments due. Provided I make 120 consecutive ones before hand on time, and assuming this type of loan forgiveness even exists ten years from now. Nothing like being 38 and paying off my student loans from 20 years ago.

Instead, I think I’ll try something a little different.

Instead I want to try and pay off my student loan debt in five years. It’s going to be difficult. I may need to do a little side hustle here or there, and I definitely won’t be able to go to Dunkin Donuts on the regular, but it will be worth it.

I am worth living a debt free existence.

And in five years, I won’t even be thinking of you.

Hey everyone! We have another great dear debt letter today from Laura. She just moved to Austin, TX from Chicago with her husband. She works in Human Resources and her passion is finding fun and creative ways to make and save money.  Some of her faves include mystery shopping, teaching writing and being a contestant on Wheel of Fortune! Also a goal of hers for 2016 is to share her passion by running couponing workshops for the local community and writing more articles for money saving sites with the hope of starting her own blog in the near future! (YES!)

Dear Debt,

Our relationship used to be between just the two of us but then an innocent third party was brought into our doomed relationship, my husband.  My amazing, non-judgmental, debt-free husband has been dragged into this mess we have created and it pisses me off.  We have been dealing with you for the past few years but January 1, 2016 was my breaking point and I vow to be rid of you going into 2017.

How you have impacted our lives:

2009 –  I met my future husband and while getting to know each other we learned about each other’s lives, hopes and dreams for the future.  While he talked about saving for a down payment on his first house at 25, I talked about paying off my credit card debt.   That was my first glimpse into how much you were truly holding me back.

2012 – My fiancé and I are trying to plan our wedding (without taking on any debt of course!) but you loomed in the background directly impacting our plans.  You made me so embarrassed that I just wanted to run off and elope so I would not have to face the fact that you were always in the back of my mind during every wedding decision.

2013 – My husband and I are married!  And you and I take our first step towards our divorce – all credit card debt is paid off and we paid for our honeymoon without going into any debt.  That feeling was amazing – to be able to truly enjoy myself without you nagging me.  But alas there is still a ways to go with the final break in our relationship – student loans.

2015 – My husband and I move across country and you come along for the ride.  While I am steadily, albeit slowly, getting out of our relationship, you did something that is going to speed along our relationships ending, you took something, not from me, but from my husband that pissed me off.  My husband works his tail off at his job – putting in long hours, working on most of his days off and being constantly available over holidays – for which he received a much deserved bonus.  Although his dream was to invest the money and for us to take a fun getaway, we instead heard your greedy voice over our dreams and gave you all of it….ALL $10,000 OF IT AND YOU STILL WEREN’T SATISFIED!!!  We made that payment on January 1st and all I could think about was how that money could have been better used during this year and vowed not to feel this way in 2017.

You have made it my mission to end our relationship for good in 2016.  How am I going to do this?  Put every extra penny towards you through every conceivable way – writing articles, completing surveys, couponing – I’m going to get imaginative because next year I don’t want to be ringing in 2017 with you.  Instead I will be sipping champagne with my husband dreaming of all the exciting things to do with a well-deserved bonus.

Peace out debt!

Hey debt fighters! Today we have an awesome dear debt letter from Jayme. Jayme is a freelance writer and blogger at sonotniche.com who has paid off more than half of $65,000 on a low income. She blogs tips on surviving as a family of five living below poverty level while still kicking debt’s butt. 

Dear Debt,

I will no longer be the “other person” in my husband’s life. I will no longer take a second place to you.

I know that you two had a relationship long before he and I met. Even though I am the better person, you still manage to occasionally seduce him with your ‘feel-good’ promises.

As my Gramma would say, “You ain’t nothing but trouble.”

For half a dozen years now, we’ve lived with you between us. Lurking like a dark temptress in the night, you take many forms.

You are past medical bills. You are our mortgage. You are the disembodied spirit of past marriages. You are things we had to buy out of necessity, and interest that accumulated over years of only being able to make minimum payments on past mistakes.

But…

Slowly, we have managed to remove parts of you from our lives. You are losing your appeal. My husband is learning to desire freedom more than things. To realize that he doesn’t have to belong to you anymore. There is a way for you to break up forever.

I’m more attractive than you, Debt. I am more seductive. I am tempting my husband with promises of things you never allowed him to have, like fat savings accounts and delectable little luxuries bought with cash.

This is the big year. This year, you need to pack up your bag of tricks and get ready to buy yourself a bus ticket out of my town. In a few months, we will only deal with you through the bank, as we begin padding out our mortgage payments. That will be the only lingering trace of YOU in our lives. In less than three years, you will be nothing but a bad memory.

Will he miss you? Don’t fool yourself. You aren’t that great. In fact, you suck.

You’ve eaten our food, taken our holidays, and stolen away time we should have been enjoying our family. You’ve made us hang our heads in shame and try to hide the times we couldn’t afford even basic necessities.

You’ve spit on us one too many times. Now its my turn.

As we speak, a check is going in the mail. One small piece of you is about to die.

I hope it hurts you like you have hurt us, you abusive piece of baggage.

Cheers,

Jayme