Broke in my 20s, free in my 30s: 7 habits I had to unlearn to stop living paycheck to paycheck

In my twenties, I was always hustling but never really getting ahead. I’d look at my bank account after a long month of work and wonder why I was still living paycheck to paycheck.

It wasn’t because I didn’t care about money, and it wasn’t because I was reckless in the classic sense.

The truth? I had habits that quietly sabotaged me. They weren’t flashy mistakes—no sports cars or wild shopping sprees. They were everyday choices that kept me stuck in a cycle of scraping by.

In my thirties, I finally started unlearning those habits. Slowly but surely, I broke free of the paycheck-to-paycheck grind. And looking back, I wish I’d seen these patterns sooner.

If you’re in your twenties—or honestly, any stage of life—and you want to feel more in control of your money, these are the seven habits I had to unlearn.

1. Treating credit cards like free money

When I first got a credit card, it felt like the universe had handed me a VIP pass. Suddenly, dinner out, a new pair of shoes, or even a weekend trip felt within reach. Swipe now, deal with it later.

The trouble was, “later” came every month in the form of bills I could barely cover.

I didn’t realize that using credit as an extension of my income was quietly draining me. I was paying more in interest than I was actually spending on things I needed. My twenties were full of minimum payments that kept me afloat but never ahead.

The unlearning here was simple but not easy: a credit card isn’t free money. It’s a tool, and when misused, it chains you down.

Once I started treating it with respect—paying it off in full, using it only for what I could actually afford—I finally stopped living in dread of the next statement.

2. Saying yes to every social invite

Back then, I hated the idea of missing out. If friends invited me to dinner, drinks, or a weekend getaway, I was in—even when I knew I couldn’t afford it.

I told myself relationships were worth the cost, and while that’s true to an extent, I blurred the line between connection and financial self-sabotage.

There were nights I’d agree to overpriced cocktails knowing my rent was due in a week. The fear of being left out overpowered my common sense. And while the memories were fun, the financial stress always followed me home.

Unlearning this habit meant giving myself permission to say no. I realized that real friendships don’t crumble if you skip a night out.

In fact, some of my strongest connections deepened when I suggested cheaper alternatives like a home-cooked dinner or a walk in the park.

Freedom doesn’t come from saying yes to everything—it comes from knowing when to say no.

3. Confusing “investing in myself” with overspending

I used to justify a lot of purchases by telling myself they were an “investment.”

That expensive new laptop? An investment in my career. The $200 jacket? An investment in my image.

The problem was, not every splurge carried the return I convinced myself it did.

Sure, some purchases can open doors. But in my twenties, I confused short-term dopamine hits with long-term growth. I was chasing the feeling of progress, not actual progress.

What I eventually learned is that the best investments don’t always carry a price tag. Borrowing books from the library, signing up for free online courses, or simply dedicating time to real skill-building gave me far more return than any impulse buy ever could.

4. Thinking small with side hustles

Like a lot of people, I dabbled in side hustles. I tried freelance gigs, part-time jobs, and even a few oddball ventures. But the mistake I made was keeping my vision too small. I’d think, “If I make an extra $100 this month, that’s good enough.”

The trouble was, those little hustles often consumed hours I could have spent building something bigger. I was so focused on patching holes in the moment that I never asked if my effort was leading anywhere sustainable.

Eventually, I began looking at side hustles differently—not as quick fixes but as stepping stones. Some drained my energy, while others had real potential to grow.

Once I redirected my focus toward projects that could scale, I stopped spinning my wheels and started building something lasting.

5. Ignoring the slow leaks

It wasn’t the big splurges that kept me broke. It was the “slow leaks”—the forgotten subscriptions, the $8 lunches, the apps I never used but kept paying for.

I brushed them off as harmless. After all, a few bucks here and there doesn’t matter, right?

But when I finally added it all up, the leaks were drowning me. Hundreds of dollars a month gone, with nothing to show for it. I was sabotaging myself one tiny leak at a time.

Once I unlearned the “few bucks doesn’t matter” mindset, I started to see real breathing room in my finances.

Canceling subscriptions, packing lunch, and trimming recurring expenses didn’t just save me money—they gave me a sense of control I’d never had before.

6. Avoiding uncomfortable conversations about money

I grew up thinking money was something you didn’t talk about. It felt rude, awkward, even shameful.

So when issues came up—whether with roommates, partners, or coworkers—I kept quiet. I’d rather absorb the loss than risk the tension.

But silence didn’t protect me. It left me resentful and, honestly, broke. I covered bills I shouldn’t have, loaned money I never got back, and missed out on better opportunities because I was too scared to negotiate.

The sooner I unlearned my fear of those talks, the freer my relationships—and my bank account—became. I realized that talking about money doesn’t ruin relationships; avoiding it does.

And now, in my thirties, I know that the most freeing conversations are often the most uncomfortable ones.

7. Believing I had to “figure it out later”

This was the hardest mindset to break. I told myself my twenties were for messing up, that I’d deal with money “eventually.”

But you know what? “Eventually” never comes unless you decide it does.

Every month I delayed, I dug myself deeper into the same hole. And the sad part is, I knew it—I just convinced myself I had time.

What I finally came to see in my thirties is that freedom doesn’t come with some magical future version of yourself. It starts with the smallest steps you take now—choosing progress over procrastination, and trading bad habits for better ones.

Final thoughts

I spent most of my twenties broke, stuck in cycles I didn’t even notice I was repeating. But unlearning those seven habits changed everything.

In my thirties, I finally feel free—not because I struck it rich, but because I shifted how I live, spend, and think about money. Freedom didn’t arrive in one big moment. It came from slowly letting go of habits that no longer served me and choosing better ones in their place.

If you’re still living paycheck to paycheck, start with just one shift. The smallest unlearning today can add up to the freedom you’ll thank yourself for tomorrow.