I learned that the hard way.
I’m still an amateur at life. I still buy the fancy cheese sometimes when I definitely shouldn't. But I’m no longer pretending.
Today, I am rebuilding. Slowly. Honestly. And for the first time, I’m not an amateur at being broke. I’m a professional at being real. carrie brokeamateurs
It wasn't one big crash. It was a thousand tiny cuts. The $12 cold brew every morning. The "splurge" dress for a wedding I couldn't afford to attend. The loan to a friend I never saw again. I was so busy playing the part of the "struggling artist who makes it work" that I forgot to actually look at my bank account.
And that’s a much better story to tell. Have you ever had a "Carrie moment" where the fantasy clashed with reality? Drop your confession in the comments. Misery loves company, but solvency loves a plan. I learned that the hard way
There is a specific shame in being a "broke amateur" when you’ve spent years pretending to be a pro. You look around at your friends buying starter homes and maxing out their 401ks, and you’re here, trying to decide if you can return a candle to Anthropologie for store credit to buy cat food.
Stop trying to be Carrie. Start trying to be solvent. The city lights will still be there when you come up for air. But I’m no longer pretending
When the rent went up $200, the house of cards collapsed. I had no savings. I had no backup. I had a closet full of shoes I couldn't walk in and a fridge full of condiments.