What I Cut From My Life to Get Out of Debt
When I hit rock bottom financially—post-divorce, nearly homeless, drowning in debt—I had to make two significant choices in my lifestyle: keep pretending everything was fine or make brutal cuts to get out of debt in order to get back on my feet. I chose to make the brutal cuts in order to eliminate my debt. What followed was a raw, humbling, and ultimately freeing experience of cutting my lifestyle to the core.
In this post, I’m not going to tell you to skip your morning coffee and call it budgeting. I’m going to show you what I actually gave up—what hurt, what helped, and how it shaped the debt-free life I have today.
Table of Contents:
- The Reality of Debt Elimination
- 1: Food and Dining
- 2: Entertainment Subscriptions
- 3: Brand Premium Costs
- 4: Impulse Purchases
- 5: Unused Subscriptions
- 6: Social Spending Pressure
- Long-Term Strategy and Results
- Action Steps for Debt Elimination
1. Dining Out and Drive-Thrus
One of the first—and hardest—things I had to cut was my habit of grabbing fast food and takeout on the go. It had become second nature: a drive-thru coffee in the morning, a quick burger after a long day, or takeout dinner when I didn’t feel like cooking. I used to justify it with what felt like perfectly valid reasons: I was too busy, too exhausted, or I had a rough day and “deserved” a treat. But when I finally sat down and looked at the numbers, the truth hit hard—I was spending hundreds of dollars each month not out of necessity, but for the convenience and short-term comfort of not planning ahead. This one habit alone was draining my wallet faster than I realized, and once I recognized it, it became clear that changing it could make a real difference in my debt payoff journey.
What I did instead:
- Meal prepped on Sundays using basic, affordable ingredients.
- Packed lunches and kept snacks in the car to avoid the temptation of running through a drive-thru.
- Set a monthly “eating out” cap (at first, it was $0), but after about 6 months, I did bump it up to $50.00. It was tough at first, but it was worth it.
The result? I saved close to $400 a month—and I actually started losing weight too.
2. Cable and Premium Streaming Services
Cutting cable felt like cutting off a limb at first. But once I canceled my $180/month package, I realized how much of my time and money was going out the door on something that was also making me lazy.
I replaced it with:
- A free digital antenna for local news and weather.
- YouTube and library DVDs for occasional entertainment.
- Focused more on reading, side hustling, learning, and I found a hobby that was actually exercising my brain muscle.
It wasn’t just a financial win—it freed up mental space too.
3. Brand-Name Everything
From toothpaste to shoes, I used to reach for brand names without a second thought. It wasn’t even something I questioned—I had simply grown up associating certain names with quality, success, and even status. Somewhere along the line, I had convinced myself that paying more automatically meant I was getting something better, more durable, or more trustworthy. But when my financial situation forced me to take a closer look, I started comparing prices and ingredients, and I quickly realized the truth: I wasn’t paying for quality—I was paying for the comfort of a logo and the habit of not questioning my choices. In many cases, store brands or generic items were virtually identical, sometimes even made by the same manufacturers. That wake-up call helped me break the cycle of brand-name loyalty and gave me the freedom to spend smarter—not more.
What changed:
- Switched to store brands (most were nearly identical).
- Bought clothes second-hand or on clearance only, there is nothing wrong with going to a quality thrift store to purchase second-hand clothes (I actually worked at one for about two years and found that many people donate brand new clothes to many thrift stores).
- Made a game out of saving at the grocery store. Again, many store brands are identical to name brands, just packaged differently.
Over a year, this shift saved me thousands of dollars.
4. New Gadgets and “Just Because” Spending
Retail therapy is real—and more dangerous than most people realize. For me, it became a reflex. When I felt stressed, overwhelmed, or even just bored, I would open up Amazon, scroll through flash sales, or wander through the mall looking for something to lift my mood. And it worked—for about five minutes. The thrill of clicking “Buy Now” or walking out with a shopping bag gave me a temporary dopamine hit, a little rush that made life feel less heavy. But that high didn’t last. What followed was a slow, creeping guilt and a draining of my bank account that made the stress even worse. I was self-soothing with spending, and it wasn’t just hurting my wallet—it was feeding a cycle of avoidance. When I finally acknowledged how often I used shopping to numb emotional discomfort, I knew it had to stop. Cutting this habit wasn’t just about saving money; it was about facing my feelings and learning healthier ways to cope with stress—without sinking deeper into debt.
“Retail therapy gave me a five-minute high and a five-day financial hangover.”
What I did instead:
- Deleted shopping apps from my phone.
- Instituted a 72-hour rule before any non-essential purchase.
- Unsubscribed from marketing emails and avoided window shopping.
I made a firm decision to stop chasing the latest tech trends. I didn’t buy a new phone, upgrade my laptop, or splurge on the newest gadgets just because they were shiny and new. For years, I had convinced myself that staying “updated” was a necessity—but when I was drowning in debt, I had to face the truth: my old phone still worked, my laptop still booted up, and I didn’t need anything new, I just wanted it. So I drew a hard line. I fixed what I could, made what I had last, and learned to ignore the pull of flashy advertisements. And something unexpected happened—the money started staying in my account. I wasn’t just saving—I was building. For the first time in a long time, I began to feel in control of my financial life. Each month I didn’t make a purchase gave me more peace of mind and reminded me that contentment doesn’t come from things—it comes from progress.
5. Subscriptions I Didn’t Even Use
When I finally sat down and combed through my bank statements, I was genuinely shocked. Line after line of small charges—$5.99 here, $12.99 there—added up to a significant monthly leak. I was paying for subscriptions I didn’t even use or remember signing up for. Streaming services I hadn’t watched in months, apps I downloaded once and forgot about, and premium memberships that auto-renewed without any benefit to my life. It was like death by a thousand cuts—none of the charges felt huge on their own, but together they were quietly draining my finances. The worst part? I’d gotten so used to the auto-pay convenience that I wasn’t even aware it was happening. Canceling those subscriptions felt like an immediate win. It wasn’t just about saving money—it was about reclaiming control. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t leaking cash to companies I didn’t care about. I was redirecting every dollar toward my own goals, not someone else’s bottom line.
- 3 different music apps
- A gym membership I hadn’t used in 6 months
- Cloud storage for a project I abandoned
I canceled everything I didn’t actively use—and made sure all auto-renewals were disabled.
6. My Pride
This one was hard—maybe the hardest of all. I had to stop caring about what people thought. For someone who had always taken pride in appearing “put together,” scaling back my lifestyle felt like exposing a part of myself I had always tried to hide. I drove an old car that rattled at stoplights. I wore the same handful of work clothes on rotation and stopped pretending I had a new outfit for every meeting. I turned down social invites that didn’t fit my budget—no dinners out, no weekend getaways, no last-minute concert tickets. At first, I felt embarrassed. I worried people would judge me or think I was failing. But I quickly realized that the only opinion that really mattered was mine—and I was done sacrificing my financial future to maintain a façade. Swallowing my pride, I even asked for help when I needed it—whether it was a ride, advice, or simply a listening ear. Those humbling moments helped me build real resilience. Choosing long-term freedom over short-term appearances taught me that strength isn’t loud—it’s quiet, disciplined, and often invisible to everyone else.
But cutting pride gave me something better—financial freedom.
The Big Picture: Cutting Isn’t Forever
When you’re in debt, cutting expenses feels like punishment. But what I found is that these cuts weren’t permanent. They were purposeful. I created space in my life—financially, emotionally, and mentally—to rebuild.
And once I paid off my debts, I brought back a few things (I do eat out now… occasionally!). But I brought them back on my terms—not because I needed comfort or convenience, but because I had earned them.
If you’re staring down a mountain of debt, do an audit of your bank statements. Create a spreadsheet to track your finances and see where your money is going. Find what you can cut today. Then be honest about what’s essential and commit to short-term discomfort for long-term peace.
Related Articles: