IN the UK, women make up 55% of people in debt.
Here, three readers break the taboo to reveal how they got into financial difficulty – and how they’re trying to get themselves out of it.
‘No one knew I was £12,000 in debt’
Sarah Bartlett, 37, works in HR and lives in Bristol.
“Clicking ‘Book’ on the travel website, I felt the familiar high.
I couldn’t afford the girls’ trip to Paris, but I’d become used to ignoring thoughts like that and enjoyed the dopamine buzz spending gave me. Until 2015, money wasn’t a problem.
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I had a good job and I earned around £28,000 a year – enough to live a nice life within my means. I bought a £107,500 studio flat with a £5,000 deposit my parents helped with, and a 95% mortgage.
I got a promotion and decided my old car was doing nothing for my image, so I bought a new one for £11,000 on a 0% interest credit card.
I planned to pay off the balance before interest began to accumulate, but that would have meant sacrifices in my social life – which involved weekends in London, trips to the theatre and fancy meals with friends who earned more than me.
Instead, I made the minimum repayments and kept the rest of my income for having fun.
As interest began to be added, I applied for more cards to spread my debt around, and with ‘free money’ at my disposal, I began to spend: a new outfit, a night away in a hotel, even food shopping… Over the next five years, my debt gradually accumulated.
Then the pandemic hit. Living alone, I was lonely and bored, so I began buying things I saw online to cheer myself up, like £50 Neom candles and £2,000 retainers to straighten my teeth.
I spent around £5,000 in total on things I really didn’t need.
In the summer of 2021, I bought a £238,000 two-bedroom house with a garden.
My mortgage doubled, but I kept living as if it hadn’t, usually spending at least £500 more than I was earning every month on credit.
By the end of that year, my debt stood at £12,000, which was hugely stressful, as well as incredibly embarrassing.
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So I kept it a secret. It still didn’t stop me from spending more than £1,600 on the trip to Paris, though, or pushing away the thoughts that I was just making things worse.
But early last year, I knew enough was enough – things had to change.
Aged 35, for the first time in my life, I sat down and wrote out a budget, prioritising the essentials, then the minimum repayments on my cards, most of which I cut up.
With what was left over, I began to save a small amount into an ‘emergency’ account and gave myself a weekly allowance in cash for social spending.
Since then, I’ve transformed how I approach my finances. I’ve paid off six credit cards using the ‘snowball’ method, which I learned about on social media.
This involved putting my debts in order, from the card with the smallest balance to the biggest.
I made the minimum repayments on all of them every month, and then any extra income I made from selling things on Vinted or my Etsy shop for example, I put towards paying off the smallest debt.
Once that card was cleared, I moved on to the next, and so on.
Currently, I’m in the middle of a savings challenge, which sees me put away loose change, and after a year I should have accumulated around £700. Over 22 months, my debt has massively dropped – from £12,000 to £900.
I have lost some friends, because I can no longer keep up with their expensive lifestyles. My boyfriend of 12 years, is very financially savvy so he’s been extremely supportive and helpful.
In January, I began sharing my savings journey on TikTok to keep myself accountable and motivated.
I’ve made new friends through that community, and they encourage me to keep going. Now I get a buzz from paying off my debt, not adding to it.”
Follow @A_single_gal_budgets on TikTok.
‘The shame of using a foodbank never left me’
Caitlin Neaves, 22, works in marketing and lives in Kent.
“Walking into the foodbank, my face flushed with embarrassment, but I knew I needed to swallow my pride.
Before February last year, I worked in admin, earning £19,000 a year. Since leaving school, I’d always worked and lived within my means.
I rented my flat from a housing association, paid my bills and had a modest social life.
Then I lost my job and everything changed. I managed to find another role a few weeks later, but as it was part-time,
I needed to take on another job, and so began doing some cleaning. Despite this, I was earning £1,000 a month less than before, and all my outgoings were rising because of the cost of living.
I had two credit cards, but only used them occasionally, always paying them off immediately, in order to have a good credit score.
But soon I began to rely on my cards for essentials. I have a partner but live alone, which is expensive as there’s nobody to share living costs with.
Because I couldn’t afford the minimum payments on my cards, interest began to accumulate. I didn’t want to ask friends or family for help, as they have their own money struggles.
So in March 2022, I had to use a local foodbank, as I didn’t have enough money to buy food and pay my electricity bill.
I felt ashamed, but the volunteers were kind, and I saw people from all walks of life, which made me feel less alone.
It would be the first of a number of visits there, but I never shook the shame.
As prices and inflation rose last year, my debt worsened, until it reached around £5,000. But I was still only trying to get by.
I felt sick when I thought about my debt, and it was like it was chasing me.
Every decision I made, from turning the heating on to agonising over a night at the cinema with a friend, was dictated by my debt.
I had friends in the same position, which helped, and we did things like have a picnic, so we could still see one another despite our financial struggles. Sadly, debt is the norm for so many young people my age.
As the year went on, I fell into more debt, despite the fact I was working non-stop.
I have mental health conditions, as well as problems with mobility, and the impact of working so much coupled with the constant anxiety really hit me. I was exhausted and couldn’t see a way out.
But then two things happened that have given me hope for the future.
In March this year, I landed a new job in marketing, working from home, which pays better than my previous part-time roles and has no commuting costs.
That’s enabled me to reduce my debt to £2,200 as I’ve been able to make bigger repayments.
Also, this summer I was granted Personal Independence Payment benefit, because of my conditions, which will allow me to finally clear the rest of my debt by the end of the year.
I just want to feel like a normal 20-something again, to buy food without having to count every penny, or meet my friends for a drink without worrying.
Often people associate debt with someone who’s made bad choices or not worked hard enough, but I’m proof that not everyone is to ‘blame’ – this wasn’t my fault.”
‘There is so much shame around debt in your 60s’
Tessa Skola, 63, is an actress and lives in Cornwall.
“Waking in the middle of the night, my heart was pounding. Numbers flashed through my mind – the thousands I owed on credit cards, loans and to friends.
My financial problems date back to 2001, when I moved to Cornwall from London. I’d worked for 25 years as an actress and dancer.
It wasn’t well-paid, but with some money from my grandmother, I bought a flat in London when I was 35.
When I moved to Cornwall, I sold the flat and bought a two-bedroom home, mortgage-free, and had £50,000 left over.
I carried on working as an actress, but had to pay for union memberships, updating my photos and portfolio and travelling to auditions.
To help, I began working in hospitality and admin, but a series of events saw my savings wiped out and debt start to build.
I married in 2010, before divorcing seven years later. I was only entitled to a small amount from my ex and was left with a legal bill to pay.
Then, in 2018, my mum, who has dementia, moved to Cornwall to live with me, which was expensive, before being admitted to a care home.
Around that time, I needed a car, which cost £10,000, and came from my savings and a credit card. Then Covid hit, work dried up and I had to claim Universal Credit and rely on credit cards.
Even when life returned to normal after the pandemic, the cost of living soared and my £14,000 salary stopped stretching far enough.
Increasingly, I had to put things like car insurance on a credit card.
Then, last year, I paid £13,000 for a private hip operation, as NHS waiting lists were so long. Friends loaned me money and the rest was credit.
My debt has grown, despite me taking on extra jobs as a dog walker and cleaner, working seven days a week.
Yet I refuse to miss out on joys like travelling, and I’m always well-groomed, so often people don’t believe I’m in debt, which infuriates me.
Recently, I took out an £8,500 loan to clear some credit card debt, as the terms were better than the interest racking up. Now I owe this, plus £5,000 on cards and to friends.
I try to stay upbeat, but I do have low days. I plan to keep working, and when I’m 66 I’ll get my state pension, which will give me a safety net.
There is a lot of shame around debt, which makes it all the more lonely.”
