The next few months weren’t easy, but they were different. Mom and I met every Sunday at her kitchen table. We wrote down every expense, every income stream. I cut out subscriptions I barely used, stopped eating out so much, and even started packing lunch for work. She taught me how to track my spending in real time—no more “I’ll check later.” I picked up a weekend side hustle. I started making extra payments toward my debt, even if it was just twenty bucks at a time. And slowly, the numbers started to move in the right direction.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t just reacting to my money—I was in control of it. Something else shifted too. I stopped resenting my mom’s happiness. When she sent me a photo from a café in Greece, instead of bitterness, I felt something unexpected: pride. She’d earned this life. And for the first time, I realized I could earn mine too. Continue reading…
