After having kids, moving, managing health crises and new jobs, and generally trying to balance two careers and a family, we are taking a long, hard look at our finances. 

For the first time in five years, no one (me) is pregnant, no one (also me) has just had a baby, and no one (my husband) is managing the immediate aftermath of such life-altering events. Much of our spending over the last few years has been reactionary. Between lifestyle creep, grocery delivery, and the occasional emergency streaming subscription to quell a toddler tantrum, our family of four has accumulated a catalog of expenses we’d once happily lived without. 

“Our family of four has accumulated a catalog of expenses we’d once happily lived without.”

If I’m being honest, there were times when I simply closed my eyes to our budget and just tried to hold on. I’m grateful we were able to lean on our options and do so when we needed to. 

Now that we’ve stabilized, we’ve decided to do a low-spend month and eliminate as many unnecessary expenses as possible to right-size our spending and put a magnifying glass to our habits. 

Our family of four did a low-spend 30 days to prioritize our budget, simplicity, and our mental health. I took notes throughout the month on what we did and did not buy and why, and what we learned along the way. 

Our experience of 30 days of low spending

The first thing we did was log every penny of our accumulated debt, including our student loans, credit cards, and car. I’d had a general idea, but because our student loans have been on hold since 2020, I didn’t know the exact total. Doing this was necessary, obviously, and humbling — it was also grounding to know our baseline number so that we could make a plan for where we want to go.

Next, we identified the expenses we could reasonably trim down. We canceled all but one of our streaming services, eliminated two memberships we weren’t fully utilizing, and graduated from diapers (kind of — if you know you know). This alone freed up $450 in our budget. 

“We canceled all but one of our streaming services, eliminated two memberships we weren’t fully utilizing, and graduated from diapers (kind of — if you know you know).”

We prioritized eating at home and shopping our pantry when building out our grocery list. When we did dine out, we sought out places where our spend would go further, which has led to a new and cherished family tradition where we eat at a local Mexican spot every Tuesday (tacos are $3 each with unlimited rice, beans, veggies, and dessert —  we all eat for under $30, including tip).

“I kept an eye out for moments of discomfort and was curious how we’d move through them.”

I kept an eye out for moments of discomfort and was curious how we’d move through them. At one point during the month, my daughter became obsessed with a certain movie soundtrack, and when we sat down to watch the film, we learned it was only available on one of the streaming services we’d canceled.

This opened up the opportunity for a conversation we hadn’t had before, and we talked through a creative solution to find the movie elsewhere. Being that the movie is nearly a decade old, we quickly realized it was readily available at the library, and snuggling on the couch for a movie night is one of my favorite memories of the summer so far.

What we’ve learned from the process

At the end of these 30 days, I have more to say about the emotions and complexity of any one particular individual’s financial landscape than I do about specific spending habits, ours or anyone else’s. Our low-spend month was more of an exercise in communication than it was in saving money, and it was certainly a starting point for deeper work. 

“Our low-spend month was more of an exercise in communication than it was in saving money.”

Everyone carries baggage when it comes to money, myself included, and we all have infinite variables at play that make up our financial context. 

I have always attached morality to how we spend our money. I also have a history of disordered thinking when it comes to restriction and scarcity, so it’s typically healthiest for me to avoid extremes. This makes pulling myself up by my bootstraps to stay within the rigid lines of, say, a 30-day spending experiment, even more complicated. Simultaneously, I’m sensitive to the needs of others and grew up with a religious savior complex, which often results in my tendency to overthink even the most minute purchases. 

Over the last month, I noticed that our family tends to overspend when we want to feel safe, comforted, or experience life in a deeper way. The dream of gardening with my children comes to mind (only 18 summers!). Are all of these qualifiers excuses to keep the same spending habits? Perhaps. Is privilege at play here? Certainly, it always is.

“I noticed that our family tends to overspend when we want to feel safe, comforted, or experience life in a deeper way.”

I also notice I’m often motivated by scarcity and will make a financial decision to reduce emotional risk, and that most of my extraneous spending happens when I’m trying to reduce my mental load. Whether or not this results in sound financial decision-making, it is important information about my emotional landscape. This is simply something to note, not something to be ashamed of.

What is also worth acknowledging is our current economic landscape. Namely, our family spent 30k in childcare last year because of the way our country has structured work-life balance, and that is not something for which I am to blame. Nor is it that we live in an area where starter homes are $1M+. 

Some might say we should simply move elsewhere where the cost of living isn’t so steep, to which I always share that my husband is a teacher and what teachers get paid in other parts of the country is criminal. If we left where we are, we would lose 30% of our income, our community, family support, and the most stable home I’ve ever had in my life, which is not nothing when my mental health is a priority for us.

“Somehow, for me, talking about money feels more emotional than talking about mental health.”

Somehow, for me, talking about money feels more emotional than talking about mental health. I am much more comfortable talking about my experience with depression and anxiety than I am with exposing our financial details. But if we don’t create some transparency around the subject, we’ll continue to claw around in the dark. This is yet another area of my life I feel obliged to have it all together, and I just don’t.

What I do know is financial wellness is an essential part of taking care of ourselves, and just like any other area, I am committed to approaching this part of self-care with patience, compassion, and most of all stubborn hope.

Kate Arceo is a writer based in Southern California and the Community Manager at The Good Trade. She has a Bachelor’s degree in Communication Studies and has been reviewing sustainable home and lifestyle brands, as well as organic kids’ apparel and nontoxic cosmetics for the last ten years. In her free time you can find her hosting dinners on the back patio, reading a novel on the sofa, or sipping a latte at the local café. Say hello on Substack and Instagram!