Years after achieving financial stability, I still find myself doing mental gymnastics in the grocery store over fifty-cent price differences and feeling genuinely rebellious when I buy new clothes before the old ones have holes in them.
Growing up, I remember the exact moment I realized my family was different from some of my friends.
I was twelve, sitting in my best friend's kitchen, watching her mom throw away half a container of leftovers without even checking what was inside. Just tossed it, like it was nothing. Meanwhile, in my house, we'd eat the same pot of soup for three days straight, and my mom would perform what I now call "leftover alchemy," transforming Tuesday's chicken into Wednesday's casserole and Thursday's sandwich filling.
Fast forward to today, and I still can't bring myself to waste food. Even after years of financial stability, even after working in finance and earning more than I ever imagined possible as a kid, certain things still feel like outrageous indulgences. If you grew up stretching every dollar, watching your parents worry about bills, and learning to find joy in small treats, you probably know exactly what I mean.
These experiences shape us in ways we don't always recognize until we're adults with our own money to spend. And honestly? Sometimes I'm grateful for that perspective, even when it makes me hesitate before buying the good olive oil.
1. Buying name-brand groceries
Does anyone else still reach for the generic cereal automatically? I catch myself doing mental math in the grocery store, calculating whether those extra fifty cents for Cheerios versus store-brand "Honey Nut O's" is really worth it.
The logical part of my brain knows I can afford it now. But there's this voice that sounds suspiciously like my mother's saying, "It all tastes the same anyway." And you know what? She wasn't wrong. Most of the time, the store brand is perfectly fine. But every once in a while, when I grab that name-brand peanut butter or real Oreos instead of "chocolate sandwich cookies," I feel like I'm living dangerously.
2. Getting your car washed professionally
Why would anyone pay twenty dollars for something you can do yourself with a garden hose and some dish soap? That's what I learned growing up, and apparently, that lesson stuck hard.
I've tried to normalize professional car washes in my mind. I tell myself it saves water, they do a better job, it's not that expensive. But every single time I pull into that automatic car wash, I hear my dad's voice: "Waste of money. Give me a bucket and fifteen minutes."
The funny thing is, I actually enjoy getting my car washed now. It feels like treating myself. But I still only do it when my car looks really bad, never just because I want it to look nice.
3. Ordering drinks at restaurants
Water is free. This was gospel in my house growing up. Restaurant sodas were for birthdays and special occasions only.
These days, I can absolutely afford that overpriced lemonade or craft cocktail. But something in me still cringes when I see "$4.50" next to "Coke" on a menu. Four fifty? For something that costs the restaurant maybe thirty cents?
I've gotten better about this one, especially when I remind myself that going out to eat is about the experience, not just the food. But I'd be lying if I said I don't still feel a tiny bit proud of myself for being "smart" when I stick with water.
4. Buying new clothes when your old ones still work
If there are no holes and the zipper still works, why do you need new jeans? This question haunts me every time I shop for clothes.
Growing up, we bought clothes when we needed them, not when we wanted them. Back-to-school shopping was strategic: three new shirts, two pairs of pants, one pair of shoes. Everything else from last year better still fit.
Now I stand in my closet, looking at shirts I've had for eight years, thinking they're perfectly fine even though they're faded and pill-covered. When I do buy something new just because I like it, not because something else fell apart, it feels almost rebellious.
5. Using the good dishes for everyday meals
We had regular dishes and company dishes. The good ones lived in a cabinet we rarely opened, waiting for Thanksgiving or when important guests came over. Using them for a random Tuesday dinner would have been unthinkable.
I bought myself a beautiful set of dishes five years ago. Guess how often I use them? If you guessed "only when people come over," you're absolutely right. There's something programmed in me that says nice things must be preserved, saved for special occasions. But what makes an occasion special enough? I'm still figuring that out.
6. Taking taxis or rideshares for convenience
Public transportation exists. Your own two feet exist. Why would you pay someone to drive you somewhere you could get to yourself?
This one really gets me because I know my time has value. I know that sometimes spending fifteen dollars on an Uber saves me forty-five minutes of train transfers. But that mental calculation of "fifteen dollars could buy three days of groceries" still happens automatically.
I've learned to override it when necessary, like when I'm running late or the weather is terrible. But taking a cab just because I don't feel like walking? That still feels like something rich people do.
7. Subscribing to multiple streaming services
Remember when Netflix was eight dollars and that felt like a splurge? Now everyone has Netflix, Hulu, HBO, Disney+, and somehow that's normal.
In my brain, paying for entertainment you could get for free (hello, library card and broadcast TV) still feels excessive. I have exactly two streaming services, and I regularly evaluate whether I really need both. When I had to add a third temporarily to watch a specific show, I felt genuinely uncomfortable about it.
8. Buying coffee shop coffee regularly
Five dollars for coffee when you can make it at home for fifty cents. The math is so obvious it hurts.
I worked in finance. I know all about the "latte factor" and how those small daily purchases add up. But it goes deeper than math for me. Getting Starbucks regularly feels like something careless people do, people who don't think about money. Even though I can afford it, even though I actually really enjoy good coffee, I still make mine at home most days and treat coffee shop visits like little celebrations.
9. Paying for convenience services
Grocery delivery. Meal kits. House cleaning services. Dog walkers. All things you could do yourself if you just put in the effort, right?
When I first hired someone to clean my house every two weeks, I felt guilty for months. Who was I to pay someone else to do something I was perfectly capable of doing? It took a long time to accept that trading money for time, especially when you can afford it, is actually okay.
Final thoughts
Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever fully shake these feelings. Part of me hopes not. Sure, it would be nice to buy the good cheese without doing mental gymnastics about whether I "deserve" it. But this background also gave me financial awareness that served me well, especially during those lean years after I left finance to pursue writing.
These little hesitations remind me where I came from. They keep me grounded and grateful. They're also probably why I managed to save aggressively enough to make my career change possible in the first place.
If you relate to this list, know that you're not alone in feeling weird about spending money on things other people consider normal. We're allowed to unlearn the scarcity mindset when it no longer serves us, but we're also allowed to keep the parts that still feel true to who we are.
And hey, store-brand cereal really does taste just as good most of the time.
