Life in a Tough Economy and the Consequences of Poor Financial Decisions
I wanted to begin this article on a hopeful note: here’s to better days ahead. And to anyone out there pushing a cart while counting every cost — you’re not alone.
I moved to Canada in 2020, full of hope, drive, and a suitcase of plans. Like many immigrants, I believed that with enough work and persistence, I’d build a life better than the one I left behind. And for a while, I did. There were tough days and small wins. But nothing quite prepared me for what year five would feel like — the kind of reflection you don’t plan, but end up having while pushing a half-full grocery cart through the fluorescent-lit aisles of Walmart.
It’s year five now, and the biggest item on my monthly budget is not rent, not car payments — it’s food. Groceries, once something I planned with ease, now dominate my credit card balances. I walk into Walmart with a calculator in my head and anxiety in my gut. I’m no longer shopping based on what I need. I shop based on how much room I have left on whichever credit card hasn’t hit its limit yet. Essentials? They come second to math.
This is what debt has taught me.
1. Debt Doesn’t Just Weigh on Your Wallet — It Lives in Your Mind
You don’t just carry debt in your bank account. You carry it into conversations, into your sleep, into the way you approach the checkout counter. It’s not just the interest or the fees — it’s the constant mental tally you keep. “Did I already use this card for gas? Can I still squeeze groceries on this one?” These questions don’t stop.
2. Survival Spending Replaces Smart Spending
When you’re on a budget, they say buy in bulk, shop smart, eat fresh. But debt turns smart shopping into survival shopping. I no longer look for healthy ingredients or deals. I look at what fills the cart and doesn’t tip the bill. Bread, eggs, rice. Cheap becomes the only criteria. Even then, you’re never quite sure what you’ll have to put back at the till.
3. Minimum Payments Are a Mirage
Paying off credit cards feels like trying to fill a leaking bucket. Most of the money I manage to put towards them goes towards fees or interest, not the balance itself. A few days after making a payment, I’m back where I started — groceries again, bills again, stress again. The numbers shift, but the struggle doesn’t.
4. Debt Forces You to Re-evaluate Everything — Even Your Decisions
Some days, I look around and wonder: Did I make the right choice coming here? Was this the “better life” I envisioned? But those questions are complicated. The system is what it is — rising costs, stagnant wages, limited support. Blaming yourself for being caught in it only adds guilt to an already heavy load. And yet, when you’re struggling, that guilt finds you anyway.
5. Hope Becomes a Form of Resistance
Still, even now, I find moments of hope. It lives in the quiet act of budgeting. In the tired but defiant push of a grocery cart. In the belief that somehow, one day, either my income will rise or the prices will fall. Maybe both. And until then, I hang on.
I wrote most of this while walking through Walmart — not because I planned to write an essay on debt, but because the experience of buying food while mentally dodging numbers was too real to ignore. It’s a strange thing, to live in a country with so much, and still feel like you’re barely scraping by. But I’m here. And I’m still trying.
Canada taught me a lot about opportunity, but debt — debt taught me resilience. It taught me to hope harder, to hustle smarter, and to reflect deeper.
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