How I Paid Off $46K of Debt
photography // Coco Dandridge
I prayed for this. I worked for this. I sacrificed for this.
The moment when I could call up the bank rep, and confirm my final credit card payment. $1,884.28. That’s what she told me after I said this would be the last payment that would make me debt-free. I would’ve paid it online, I think hitting a send button would’ve been a bit more fulfilling. But I wanted to make sure that the last of the interest was accounted for— I wanted to see that account balance at zero when it was all said and done. I wanted to truly be free.
Over the last three years, I paid off a total of $46,217.24 ($37,355.00 if you don’t count interest). Eight credit cards. One personal loan. And a pesky bill from the dentist, from when after two years of not having health insurance I finally caved in and paid to get my teeth cleaned. But this isn’t a story about money, it’s about the journey it took to get here. The setbacks I overcame, the mental and emotional roadblocks I surpassed. The many lessons I learned along the way. Because the truth about money is that it’s more of a mental game than anything. You have to believe you deserve better, and that you’re capable of living a life that others only dream about. And then you have to put in the work to actually bring that dream to fruition. Because no matter how much you pray for it, vision board it, manifest it, or post an affirmation on your timeline, the reality is “..faith without works is dead...” (James 2:26).
The First Attempt
My journey actually began in October 2017. I was sitting in my bedroom— a space no bigger than 50 square feet, in a house shared with six strangers of varying ages and ethnicities. After months of drowning I was finally coming up for air, but only after sacrificing having my own space at $1,400 for a room at $600. I was juggling multiple jobs— catering, freelance writing and editing, dog sitting, the occasional background acting gig— and occasionally I would revisit one of my creative projects. But I knew something had to give. I didn’t move all the way across the country to settle for a life where the only time I lived my dreams was when my eyes were closed. So I went searching for an answer. I had tried to get out of debt on my own before. I even succeeded once, when I decided to break my lease in Atlanta and move back home with my mom. But that was only after not going out, not seeing friends, and working 12-hour days, six days a week. I knew this time that I needed a real strategy, one that wouldn’t completely rob me of my sanity. My search led me to Dave Ramsey’s book The Total Money Makeover. I had heard of the financial guru before, so I figured it was worth reading since his name was coming up again. That day I went online and placed a hold for the book at my local library, then drove a mile down the road to pick it up. Free knowledge.
Following his “baby steps,” I quickly saved $1,000 (the most money I’d ever saved) then started tackling my debt in order from the least amount to the greatest. I finally felt like I was making progress. With each small payment, I felt like I was getting closer to freedom.
Then the unexpected happened. Winter was coming and catering gigs were drying up. I couldn’t afford to go home for the holidays, and the last gigs for the season offered time and a half plus tips to work the days that nobody else wanted to. So Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and New Year’s Eve I found myself serving up meals in the homes of wealthy people and their families and friends. The money was good and the food tasty, but it was nothing like being home with my family with the aroma of home-cooked meals and a house filled with love and laughter. I cried. This wasn’t the life that I wanted for myself, and I knew I was the only one who could change it.
Over the next month, I applied for a bunch of jobs, only to receive rejection after rejection despite having a resume filled with solid work experience. I wasn’t making money in LA, one of the most expensive cities in the country. So it only made sense to move back to Atlanta where I could keep my costs low and still live a decent life. So with the little bit of money that I had saved, I paused my debt-free journey, packed up my car with whatever I could fit in it, and recruited a friend to help me journey back across the country.
“The truth about money is that it’s more of a mental game than anything. You have to believe you deserve better, and that you’re capable of living a life that others only dream about. ”
Back to the A
Those next few months were a whirlwind. An emotional rollercoaster filled with losing the last of my savings, spending months of being unemployed, not having enough money to pay my bills, and surviving off of the generosity of my grandparents. My saving grace was finally getting a call from my current employer, in which I promptly packed up my car again and moved back to Atlanta. But by then I had racked up so much debt and was starting to get calls from credit card companies. I also underestimated how expensive Atlanta had become. The first month I slept on an air mattress until a friend was kind enough to give me a free bed.
Although I was making a decent salary, it wasn’t even enough to cover all of my expenses. My job would often have free food and snacks that I would pack up and take home for dinner, which helped my bank account a little, though not my waistline (I would gain 20 lbs in the first few months of working there). But once again I found myself feeling like I was suffocating. I was still listening to The Dave Ramsey Show podcast, the debt-free screams were my motivation and the financial information was equipping me with the tools to thrive long beyond getting out of debt. So after making my last credit purchase (I bought my couch on a 0% Rooms to Go credit card), I decided it was time to get rid of the debt once and for all.
The Road to Freedom
In July 2018 I officially began my debt-free journey. I signed up for UberEats and would drive 3 hours after work, 5 days a week. A few months later I started picking up regular freelance clients. Each work bonus would get chucked at my debt. I stopped getting my hair done, except for the occasional touch-up for special occasions. I didn’t get my nails done. I really did nothing for my personal care. I thrifted or occasionally shopped from stores with low prices. I turned down many trips, including ones with family. I limited how much I ate out. I stuck to a tight budget.
This went on for the next couple of years, with the exception of UberEats which ended when I sold my leased car in April 2019. I lived within walking distance from work and a cheap Uber ride from the city, so paying over $400 in a car payment, gas, and insurance for a car that I’d then have to turn around and purchase again at the end of the lease (or find a new one) didn’t appeal to me, and would only prolong my debt-free journey. I replaced that income loss with better-paying clients. I preferred doing 3 hours of extra work from home than 3 hours of driving around the city and being harassed by men anyway.
Physically I was making progress, and mentally I was also checking off my wins. A $200 card gone here, a $5,000 loan there. But as I got closer to the card with bigger balances I could feel my momentum slowing down. I was tired and overworked. While I had a lot of support from friends and family, it didn’t come without the occasional suggestion to essentially take on more debt, just for my comfort. And uncomfortable I certainly was. I was in an apartment with noise outside my window so loud that it was a luxury to get a full night’s sleep. Since I moved in on a lower rent special, I couldn’t move anywhere within the city without increasing my rent. And I didn’t have a car to move further outside of the city, and getting one would drastically increase my debt. So I sucked it up and trudged on— feeling alone and isolated as I watched friends and family take trips on credit and live a seemingly luxurious life that some of them couldn’t really afford.
I often had to remind myself that the short-term fun wasn’t worth the long-term strain. That I wanted a life where I could buy things and go places without worrying about a bill waiting for me when the dust settled. I wanted to have the freedom to do work that I actually cared about, without worrying about how quickly the money would come back to me. I wanted to be able to take care of my parents and grandparents— pay off their homes and ensure they have the best care so that they could actually enjoy their later years. I wanted to build wealth for myself and my future family so that one day my kids could live a life and choose careers that they really wanted, and not just for a paycheck. I wanted to be able to give and invest without wondering how I was going to be able to provide for myself, to support my church, my people, and my community. In short, I wanted to live a life that many people never live. And I didn’t want to wait until I was near my 70s and retiring to live it.
“I wanted to live a life that many people never live. ”
The Final Sprint
In the final six months, I decided to loosen the reins a bit. In fact, I probably would’ve been out of debt sooner had I continued to make deeper sacrifices. But at that point, my sanity was at stake, so I broke my lease and moved into a better apartment. I was finally making a pretty good income at work, so at the top of my year, I made the decision to no longer take on freelance clients or do work that didn’t bring me joy. I took a couple of trips (paid in cash of course) and started adding back in some of the little luxuries I had given up for the first couple of years. Nothing crazy, but just enough to encourage me to keep going— soon I wouldn’t think twice about doing any of these things. I still continued to stay on a budget. Instead of using my tax returns and stimulus checks to splurge, I put them towards my debt. I could finally see the finish line, so I used the last bit of my energy to sprint towards it. And on July 15th, I crossed as a champion.
As I reflect back a few months later, I can’t help but get choked up a little. The words here can’t quite articulate how I feel right now, how emotional this journey was. Of course, there were some setbacks along the way. One month, my grandmother got so sick that I took a last-minute flight to go see her, in case it was our last time together. Another month I had a medical emergency that cost me $1,000 out of pocket. In fact, there were a handful of unexpected medical expenses that popped up along the way. But I thank God for being my provider. I continued to tithe throughout this entire journey, and I believe that many of my blessings both financial and otherwise came from my obedience, because there were some things that came my way that I didn’t even work for or expect to get.
“Stay prayed up. Stay focused. Surround yourself with people who support you and don’t drain you. ”
Recently I was asked for my advice to someone who is on a similar journey. My answer: Stay prayed up. Stay focused. Surround yourself with people who support you and don’t drain you. And if you don’t have anyone, find them in other communities— your church, Facebook groups, YouTube, etc. Know that you’re not alone on your journey. And when times really get hard, remember why you started. You’ll be grateful that you didn’t quit once you’re on the other side.
