I knew Mom’s hiding spot: the little chest on top of her dresser. As a teenager, I’d slip into my parents’ room when they weren’t home and pocket $5 or $10. Later, I’d feel only a hint of guilt as I slurped my Jamba Juice under the suburban San Diego sun. Mostly, I was nervous I’d get caught. Anything I made from my weekend waitressing gig flew quickly out of my hands, spent shopping. I hoped the stuff I bought would cure me of my self-consciousness as I stumbled into adulthood.
Fifteen years later, I was still broke. My fiancé and I listened, stone-faced, as our financial advisor explained that the interest on my ballooning credit card debt would make it difficult to save for children or a house.
I was $10,000 in the hole. I had a salaried job, but I spent wildly on discounted clothing and vintage home decor, and had a sneaking suspicion I might be one of the approximately 5% of Americans with compulsive buying disorder. But I was too embarrassed to admit it. The more I bought, the less value anything had — and the less I valued myself. Still, I couldn’t stop.
My spending mirrors a broader national affliction. It seems many of us can’t quit shopping, even as our wallets are shrinking. This Black Friday was the largest ever online, despite inflation and the affordability crisis, and consumer spending is on track to exceed a trillion dollars this holiday season — an all-time high. In fact, Americans have spent more than $44.2 billion online since Thanksgiving, and “buy now, pay later” debt is skyrocketing. America has a collective $1.23 trillion credit card balance.
