When a Saver Becomes a Spender

I’ve told you over and over again that I’m a saver. And I am. I hoard money like a squirrel hoards nuts for winter.

But I didn’t always used to be like that. I used to be the worst kind of spender: the closeted spender. The kind of spender who doesn’t think that there’s a problem.

I was a spender who hid in plain sight. My spending looked something like the clearance rack at Target. Or the neighborhood yard sales. It didn’t have to look like bankruptcy or debt up to my eyeballs, but I had a spending problem.

My childhood was admittedly over-indulgent. My parents spoiled my brother and me far and away beyond what they should have. We were the Land Rover driving rich kids shopping at Neiman Marcus before heading off to private school. Until one day when it all stopped.

We weren’t brought into financial discussions, but we knew that a divorce meant that now my dad had to support two houses and that our lives were going to change.

I wish that my parents had been more open about their struggles with us, but I know that they didn’t want to burden us at the time. We were brats (I’ll admit it!) and didn’t get why we suddenly needed to shop at the Salvation Army instead of Aeropostale.

My life changed when I found shirts from Hollister, Abercrombie, and other highly-sought-after brand names in the early 2000s… all at the Salvation Army for $1 each. It was the divine intervention that I needed. This was the way to shop!

This was the way to shop! I thought to myself, no one will know that I saved so much money on these clothes!

From then, I furnished my new rooms with second-hand items, went straight to the clearance racks at stores if I couldn’t go to Salvation Army, and I never ever paid retail. I began to find ways to save money even on small things: like splitting sticks of gum in half instead of chewing the whole piece and getting a job at Starbucks so that I never had to pay for coffee again. When I went on dates with my high school boyfriend, I’d order off of the kid’s menu to save money.

I began to find ways to save money even on small things, like splitting sticks of gum in half instead of chewing the whole piece (so cheap!). I got my first job at Starbucks so that I never had to pay for coffee again. When I went on dates with my high school boyfriend, I’d order off of the kid’s menu to save money.

When I went to college, the cheapness didn’t stop. My roommate and I furnished our entire dorm room using only hand-me-downs and donations. We only went to parties if we could get in for free. When we ate, we only had the gross meals in the dinning hall instead of going to restaurants with our peers.

I was so proud of my cheapness. I’d often volunteer how much (or how little) my clothes were to see the look on people’s faces when I told them I got the $200 cashmere sweater for $5 at Goodwill. I was in a race with myself to see how much I could save when I shopped.

But while I was in the race with myself, I lost track of something very important: even if you’re saving 99% off retail value, you’re still spending money.

Shopping clearance racks and bins, and going to yard sales are amazing ways to save tons of money… but only if you’re actually buying things that you need.

Unfortunately, I didn’t see this. I was blinded by the “look at how much I saved” rush to realize that even if it was only $1, that was $1 that I was spending on something without planning for it.

I found myself feeling so fixated on trying to save more and more money, that I completely missed the point of trying to save: so that you can have what you need while paying less than you need to.

Buy what you need, save more than you need, spend less than you need, put the rest away.

This is the philosophy that I adopted after I came back from a yard sale with 2 gigantic glass lanterns and was greeted by my husband.

My husband is our family’s spender. He lets money burn a hole in his pocket faster than I’ve ever seen. But he pointed out the errors that I made.

“Do you really need those?” “But they were such a great deal, honey!” “Ok, but do you need them?”

Now, I’ve said this to my husband more times than I can count… this week alone! But to have him ask me the same question changed the perspective. Did I really need the lanterns?

I convinced myself that they’d look great on a mantle and that we could use them to add some rustic charm to our home. But the reality was much more black and white than my colorful ideas: no, I didn’t need the lanterns, and that money could have gone toward something much more useful like a credit card bill, or saving for a new house, or even a much-needed date night with my husband.

When you buy something for $20 after it’s been marked down 99%, you didn’t save money… you spent $20.

I had to face the facts: I wasn’t a saver… I was a spender!

Yikes. That reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I wasn’t as thrifty as I thought. Actually, I wasn’t thrifty at all! The reality was that I was just a cheap spender.

For my entire adult life (and my teenage years as well), I’d prided myself on being a saver. Friends and family would call me asking for the best ways to save money. And yet here I was, facing the reality that I was a spender.

Once the pity party died down, I knew what I needed to do to change. I locked away my debit card, used the cash system, and practiced saving money for things that I actually needed.

Once a month, I splurge and get something that I want for $25, but that’s it. Of course, because I have a problem with competition, I try to see just how far I can stretch that $25.