I used to think the reason I always felt behind was because I just wasn’t disciplined enough.
That maybe I was too emotional with money. Too disorganised. Too soft. Too tired. Too “bad at budgeting” to ever properly get on top of things.
But the truth was a lot less dramatic than that.
I was a working mum trying to hold together a normal family life in a time where normal life had become ridiculously expensive.
It was the weekly food shop that never seemed to come in at what I expected.
The school bits that always appeared at the wrong time.
The birthday presents, uniform replacements, half-term spending, random direct debits, top-up shops, petrol, energy bills, and those “quick little spends” that didn’t feel like much on their own but seemed to wreck the month when they piled up together.
I wasn’t blowing money on luxury.
I was spending it on life.
And somehow, even though I was the one constantly thinking ahead, checking the account, moving things around, and trying to keep everything steady, I still carried this quiet shame that I should have been managing it better.
That was the hardest part.
Not just feeling stretched financially.
Feeling like that stress was slowly changing the way I showed up for the people I love.
Because when you’re the one mentally carrying the household money, it doesn’t stay neatly inside a bank account.
It follows you everywhere.
It follows you into the supermarket.
Into the school run.
Into your lunch break.
Into bed at night.
Into those moments with your kids when you want to be calm and present, but you’re half doing maths in your head the whole time.
And if I’m honest, there were times I didn’t even feel like myself anymore.
Not because I didn’t love my family.
Because I did.
It was because I felt like I was constantly trying to protect them from pressure I was absorbing on my own.
