A Bittersweet Victory

Whenever I received good news my parents were always my first port of call. As my biggest supporters it seemed only right and fair that I share it with them first. I never gave them a daughter-in-law or grandchildren, but there was still occasional good news. From the look of joy on their faces when I said I was finally moving out [age 39] to showing them my new dog in 2014 – they were always hugely supportive. They also went out of their way to help, which meant the world to me. Yes, I still have family today, but they all have their own families, own children, and their own lives. Nobody is going to feel the same level of pride or happiness than your own parents when you have good news to share. I know I can tell Luna, who's kind of like my feral child, but she couldn’t care less – unless it was related to food or getting a cat.

Regardless of who actually cares, at the age of 51 I'm now credit card debt free and in a position to buy my own property. That, in itself, should bring a feeling of unbridled, euphoric joy, but it comes at a huge cost. Although I cleared the vast majority of debt by working every hour God sent, I’m only able to put down a deposit on a house because we sold my parents’ home. So it goes without saying that, given the choice between buying a house and having my parents around, I’d much rather my parents were still with us.

Obviously they’re both gone, but I know they would have wanted me to use the money to invest in my own property, and not spend my days paying off someone else’s mortgage. My only golden rule when clearing debt was that I didn’t want any money from the sale of the family home being used to clear that debt, I wanted it to all go on investing in my own property. In a weird way, it's like that money has the DNA of our family home of 50 years and it should go into my new home.

However, alongside the deposit I’m also going to need a mortgage, and that’s the part where I’m completely on my own. I know self employed couples who’ve had no problem getting a mortgage, but I don’t have the benefit of a partner, which increases one’s chances by a staggering 50% (yes, I have a basic understanding of maths). I do have a “mortgage in principle” but that’s no cast iron guarantee. That’s like saying you have a drivers licence before you’ve taken the test.

Equally, I don’t really trust this carrot-dangling universe. So far this year I’ve been offered two jobs that never amounted to anything. I’ve also had an astonishing amount of social engagements cancelled. People say we’ll do this… but it never actually happens. That’s nobody’s fault, but if I was to make plans for the weekend I could say, with a high degree of certainty, it would be cancelled at the eleventh hour. 

So nothing happens until it actually happens. 

Despite being out of debt, some lenders look at that snail trail of bad credit over previous years and see red flags. Although the bad stuff disappears from your credit report after seven years, mine is currently swinging between ‘good’ and ‘excellent’ and I’d like it firmly in the ‘excellent’ camp. For clarity, if my credit report was a Star Wars film it’d be Revenge of the Sith, but I’d much rather it was The Empire Strikes Back.

Do I have regrets about falling into debt in the first place. Well, obviously, but any fool knows that falling into debt isn’t simply down to spending beyond one’s means. It’s a factor for some, but there’s a multitude of reasons why people owe substantial amounts of money. From the sudden loss of a job to struggles with mental health, if you don’t have savings it can very easily happen to anyone. You can be frugal and good with money, but nobody is immune from debt. 

You do need to “own” your mistakes and, from a financial viewpoint, going to America for two weeks in 2013 was a contributor to my debt. That said, visiting America is a huge, once in a lifetime experience for most working class people, and I have no regrets. Sometimes you need to take chances when you’re relatively young, otherwise you hit 70 and start wishing you’d seen more of the world. Also, I could never have foreseen what would happen next…

The catalyst for me was just over 10 years ago, after having £500 slashed from my salary one month with no notice. Obviously, knowing what I know now, there are certain legal channels and support networks that can help with this sort of thing, but my mental health wasn’t so great and I felt like a rabbit in the headlights. Once you miss a council tax payment you have to pay the balance for the entire year [an archaic, completely insane rule that even Martin Lewis is trying to abolish]. So suddenly I was over £1,500 in debt and then the snowball began…

I did reach out to a few people. Some were generous and kind, although most will just leave you to get on with it, bury their heads or refuse to help altogether. It’s like they were filming a baby gazelle being attacked by a lion in the Serengeti, but couldn’t intervene. Sounds like an absurd analogy, but debt does rip you to pieces mentally. 

A few people helped, while others helped and then told friends what a great Christian they were for helping. Obviously their reward in Heaven went up in smoke at that exact moment, but it’s sad when people help and then feel the need to boast. It is difficult when you confide in someone and suddenly half the town knows because they tell friend B, who then tells friend C, who then tells friend D, who then tells their entire extended family. 

I exaggerate, but several people did break a circle of trust and that will be forgiven but cannot be forgotten. 

Some offered help on a condition. Like “If I scratch your back…” (not literally I hasten to add) but I do struggle with taking advantage like that. It’s fine to say “I’ve loaned you X amount so you need to pay me X amount in return” but when they’re wanting favours or adding interest it does feel like they’re trying to make a profit out of your misfortune. 

I think the hardest part for me was seeing friends living their best lives, eating at restaurants, taking two holidays a year, and swanning around in nice clothes, when I was walking around the co-op with a calculator to ensure I didn’t go 1p over my allocated food budget. I lost count of the times my payments were declined, and once I simply had to abandon my shopping at the till. 

There were some people I could have NEVER asked for help as I know they valued money more than anything, which was another wake up call for me. Thankfully, I was blessed with a very small support network who always helped, if they could, without hesitation. They didn’t question, they didn’t judge, they didn’t tell others, and they didn’t make me think I owed them some kind of life debt if they helped. 

Those people know who they are, but they also need to know they saved my life. At times things got too much for my mental health, and suddenly I had £10 in my account with a message saying it was for food. I can’t begin to describe what an amazing, selfless gesture that is and how much it helped.

Obviously one can’t exist on kind gestures and loans from friends, as debt is still debt. So behind the scenes I had to work and work and work to get life back on track. I had to ignore everyone telling me to scale back on work and look after my health, as I knew if I didn’t get out of debt my mental health would eventually be the death of me. So I took care of my health – by burning the candle at both ends for years and years.

Finally, by the summer of 2025 I had eradicated 70% of my debt, which seemed completely impossible a few years ago. Although I knew I’d have to work every day and I couldn’t even properly take time out to grieve the death of my parents. Rent doesn’t stop, council tax doesn’t stop, as life is too cruel to give you even a week off. I cannot condone working crazy hours, seven days a week, but without doing so I wouldn’t be in a position now to get a mortgage. 

Still, lessons have been learned. Now all I can do is pray that the curse of the carrot-dangling universe is finally broken and I can settle into my new home to begin that long-awaited new chapter.