It’s that time of year when the credit card bills for holiday shopping come in and the FML feeling that follows. It’s the hangover from indulging in so much frosting. IYKYK. But, when we’re super honest, this feeling doesn’t only strike once a year. It’s a pretty regular thing.

We should ask ourselves how much of our unhappiness comes from being a good consumer. Because the answer is probably a fairly large amount.

Do you stand in front of an overflowing closet and say, “I have nothing to wear?” It’s a pretty common lament. And that’s because we’re not buying stuff we love. We’re buying things we were told to wear, that we were supposed to want and like. Doesn’t matter if we don’t look good or feel good in them. It’s what we’re supposed to obtain in order to show the world that we were cool and fashionable. 

We’re mimicking the person we thought we should be rather than determining who we are. And we’ve all be there, one time or another. Because we’re good consumers.

Look around your home. How many gadgets did you get tricked into buying? Stuff you thought was the next big thing or something that was going to make your life easier or healthier or whatever-y-er.

Marketing works because it aims at our soft spots. We want to feel included. We want to be loved. We want to be accepted. We want to be seen. And we want to show up as our aspirational selves. None of this is a flaw. It’s very human. But marketing is manipulation. And the end result of manipulation is rarely pleasant.

I have bought a lot of shit in my life. A lot of it was purchased as a placeholder for what I actually wanted. I went for quantity over quality almost every time. Instant gratification over waiting for what I truly desired. Part of that is lack math. Filling the need now with what’s available at a price that’s affordable. 

But that actually ends up costing us so much more. Because it leaves us dissatisfied. What we got didn’t curb the craving. So we need to get something else. Which means more money out the door. Sound familiar? It was a great day when I finally stopped doing that.

I’ll tell you a little story. I love a good purse. The bigger the better. And, back in 2017, I saw the Madewell Transporter Tote (and, side note, they no longer carry the version I got). I knew then that was my bag. Not a Prada or a Channel, and certainly not a Birkin. I wanted that simple, chic, big ass bag that — even at its modest price — I could not afford. 

I marked in my calendar for when Madewell had their annual sale and waited a full year to buy that bag. But something went wrong when I went to make the purchase online. It wasn’t taking the code and I wasn’t getting the discounted price. And the bag I wanted — the black leather with tan straps — was in high demand with only had a few left. 

In a mini-panic, I called customer service for help. I was still in a place of lack and quite accustomed to having rugs pulled out from under me. I felt the bag slipping away. 

The rep started a new purchase and when we got to the monogram part, because, yes, I was monogramming my forever bag, I said something like, “I think there’s only one size for the lettering, these are my initials, put them in gold.” But there were actually two options for the letter size. She didn’t mention that and had the nerve to put the small lettering on my big ass bag. LOL.

It didn’t matter. Because when that bag finally arrived, I couldn’t have been happier. I can’t tell you how accomplished I felt. It’s so beautiful. Even with the too-small lettering. 

To this day, that bag fills me with joy. It’s not the bag itself (though it’s a great fucking bag), I appreciate not just the thing, but how I went about getting it. Working hard to save, being patient for the sale, not giving up when things went awry. And it represents a time in my life when I was transitioning from being broke to getting myself out of debt. 

So that purse isn’t just a purse. It’s a defining moment of sorts. It’s a symbol of me stepping out of my difficult past and transitioning into the person I wanted to be.

Another question to ask is, Who are we buying for? Is it for you, or to impress others? Because we’ve all done that, too.

When we buy things to impress other people, or show up as how we think others need to see us, that's never going to bring us happiness. That brings us debt. That brings us more shit we don't need. But when you invest in yourself with something that you really and truly want — something that makes you feel good — that purchase is going to hold its value in more than one way. Because that’s an empowered purchase.

How do you feel when you walk past a regret? 

We all have them peppered throughout our homes. Things we spent too much on and didn’t use. Clothes we bought and didn’t wear. Gifts given to us that we never needed. Stuff we got because some ad or influencer told us we had to have it. It all becomes clutter. Something shoved into closets, stacked in the garage, or piled on the exercise equipment we used a few times and gave up on. 

But isn’t it funny that we don’t get rid of it? Donate it, sell it, give it to someone who will appreciate it. And wouldn’t that be a relief? But we hold onto stuff because we think of the money spent on it. As if keeping it keeps that money.

Here’s the thing, though: That money’s gone. It’s not coming back. Instead, you’re paying the price for looking at things that make you unhappy, that take up space that could be used in a better way.

Let it go. Let it all go. Let go of what you don’t like, what you don’t use, and what you don’t want. Liberate yourself in that way. It will cause a wonderful shift. It will open up your space and clear out some heavy energy. You’ll feel the air move through your home in a different way.

Then, start purchasing with the power of discernment. Ask yourself why you’re getting this stuff. Do you really need it? How will it add to your life? Will it bring you continuous joy, even if its use is merely utilitarian? 

Ask these questions especially if you were introduced to it while scrolling. Especially if your energy is low and you aren’t feeling great about things. Because stuff won’t fix that, right?

How much stuff do you have that you had to have, for whatever reason? And how much of that stuff do you still appreciate? How much of it is just a burden, clutter? 

Consumerism, materialism, whatever you want to call it, all it does is breed dissatisfaction and debt. That's it. It's one thing to purchase what you really need or truly desire, something that you're going to appreciate for a long, long time. But how often do we do that? It’s more about filling the need — the jones — right now. Until the next need or jones hits.

Buying your way into happiness won’t work. Things don't create happiness. The pursuit of a thing is not where you're going to find your joy. Yes, things will temporarily bring some satisfaction. But it's hedonic, and not lasting. Here's what is lasting: 

The appreciation of those things. Appreciation is the alchemy that transforms the hedonic into eudaimonic. 

There is nothing in my closet, on my shelves or in my drawers that I don’t love or at least appreciate. I don’t buy anything I don’t feel good in or about. I make investments in what will bring me happiness. Like my Vitamix, my crockery, my car — a wee Fiat — my Doc Martens or my WaterRower. All of those things I got at a discount, because I’ve learned the value of waiting…and shopping around. 

All of those things I wear, use, love and appreciate. Yes, even my rower, three years later. Seriously, who doesn’t love a full-body workout while sitting on your butt watching TV? Base model. That’s all I needed. 

As of last month, I am in the financial black. 

I paid off my last credit card in 2022. I paid off my car in 2024, and finally paid off my student loan last month. Thirteen years ago, when I moved into my teeny tiny place, I never believed I would get out of the debt I was drowning in. I was nearly seventy grand in the hole. It took time, sacrifices and wise choices to pay that off. I’ve been able to save, too. And start retirement accounts. All of these things I thought were impossible. And they were, until I shifted my relationship with money and things. Once I started deepening my happiness, my eudaimonic wellbeing, money started to stick around, and it brought friends! 

Some say money is a mirror. I think how we use money tells us more about how we’re feeling than we realize. 

When we remember we’re in charge of what we consume — when we take the reins and think twice about the what and why of our spending — we remember our power. And part of being happy is standing in our power, being confident and self-assured. And that’s all worth having.

Happily rebel against trends, against being told what you need, against being told you aren’t enough as you are. Let’s stop creating billionaires and start investing in ourselves instead.