How I learned to budget, part 1.

I feel like my writing is one digression after another, and I’ve done it again: This blog post started out as a quick and dirty “how-to” on my favorite money managing app, but as I began describing my pain points with finances, it quickly morphed into a diatribe on my broader relationship with money—how it started, how it evolved, and how it’s going. Money is a taboo topic, but I can’t seem to stay away from those these days. And while my honesty here is sure to incriminate me in some way (or at least draw some negative attention), to heck with it. I am who I am.

As I mentioned in my latest year-in-review post, my word for 2025 is abundance. I deeply want to be someone who looks at every area of life through a lens of abundance rather than scarcity, and who tackles each day believing that there’s more than enough of ____ to go around. While this needn’t only apply to personal finance, I’d be lying if I said that money wasn’t the catalyst for this desired mindset shift.

In recent years, amidst rising grocery bills and the necessities of providing for a growing family, Scott and I have felt the strain on our pocketbook that’s not unfamiliar to most middle class Americans. After our basic needs were covered each month, we’d be met with a dwindling balance and a sense of defeat—wondering if we’d ever be able to get ahead of our savings again, or at least not be in the red. When it came to “extra” or discretionary spending, like an activity for the kids or new clothes for ourselves, our motto quickly became: “We don’t have the money for that.” Prioritizing what was most important to us (okay, let’s be real, me) was harder than I’d like to admit—mostly because, well, I’ve never really had to. (This is where I make it painfully obvious how spoiled I am.)

MY HISTORY WITH MONEY

If I could liken my past relationship with money to that of a movie couple, I’d be Barbie and my bank account Ken: It was there for me when I needed something, but otherwise ignored. For the longest time, I didn’t fully appreciate the value of a dollar. I was a product of my childhood, I suppose, my laissez-faire attitude towards money the result of never having to wonder if we had enough of it—a.k.a., the definition of privilege. It’s not that my parents were particularly well-off; my upbringing was relatively modest, but my mom (having grown up with much less) was an extremely savvy shopper and always made sure that her kids had everything they required to enjoy the ignorance of youth.

Which meant we didn’t necessarily have to work for it, either. Unlike some people I knew, I wasn’t forced to get a job as soon as I could drive. My parents encouraged my brothers and me to participate in extra-curricular activities and lean into our high school careers instead.

“You have the rest of your life to worry about earning money,” they’d say. “Just be young and free for now.”

That made sense to my impressionable teenage brain, and besides, with theater rehearsals and homework looming every day after school, when would I find the time? So, with the exception of a few seasonal gigs—first at my best friend’s Christmas tree farm and later Barnes & Noble—I took their advice and directed my efforts into making good grades and even better memories.

College was the same story. My parents paid for my tuition, housing, and food, while I got to focus solely on my studies. Since most of my friends were in a similar boat, I didn’t realize at the time how rare this sort of no-strings-attached financial help actually is. (This statistic is staggering: Around 67% of millennials report having credit card debt, and 36% also carry student loan debt, making ours the generation most affected by student loan debt.) It wasn’t until after I graduated in 2014, when I accepted a full-time engineering tech position at an oil company in Downtown Houston, that I could finally afford to live completely on my own without anyone else footing my bills. My independence was short-lived, though: A year later, Scott and I got hitched and moved in together, a move that made it possible for me to work at a wedding magazine in the Heights (a job in my chosen industry!) that paid next to nothing.

Long story short? It is only because of the generosity of my folks that I have a four-year college education under my belt, a functioning car to drive, and the wedding of my dreams to fondly look back on—without having acquired thousands of dollars of debt in the process.

WHERE THAT LEFT ME

Really stinkin’ grateful, is where. My mom and dad sacrificed a lot over the course of my lifetime to provide for me the opportunities that they did, and I do not take their gifts for granted. My husband and I were able to enter into our marriage in 2015 debt-free, buy a house in 2017, and coast by comfortably on one income in 2020—giving me the freedom to stay home with our children while they’re young (and beyond, if I so choose).

But, of course, there are also major downsides to my financially carefree background: For one, managing money does not come naturally to me, and my lackadaisical approach to spending (i.e., my lifelong habit of simply buying something the second I “need” it) has resulted in my endless struggle to save—something my more frugal husband has brought to my attention on numerous occasions. Budgeting was a very unfamiliar concept to me in my early 20s, and actually sticking to a budget is a whole different ballgame.

Even during my Year Of Paying My Own Way, I was living within my means, but aside from my 401(k), I wasn’t putting any change away for a rainy day. And as a result of my summer abroad, my savings account was virtually empty.

FOR RICHER OR POORER

For the first few years of our marriage, we were kind of flying by the seat of our pants with our dual income and honestly getting by pretty well. It wasn’t until Jude came into the picture in 2019 that we realized we would benefit from a smarter strategy if we ever wanted to buy a bigger house down the road, build a nest egg for our kids’ college educations, and look forward to a prosperous retirement ourselves.

So we started dabbling in the world of budgeting with Mint.com, a free website used for tracking expenses. While it initially served its purpose in drawing our attention to where all of our money was going, the limitations of the site ultimately made our newfound habit a difficult one to stick to longterm. And the larger our family grew, the more complex our budget and goals became.

Six years later, as a single-income household, money is probably the #1 stressor we face. (Given our fortunate beginnings, I know we can’t be alone in that.) There are definitely months when it seems like we will never have enough money to feel secure, but mostly, it’s trying to figure out what’s worth it to us that is the challenge.

As a Nutritional Therapy Practitioner and self-proclaimed wellness junkie, one of my biggest priorities tends to be quality food, supplements, and holistic therapies. Groceries alone cost us an arm and a leg each week, and our functional medicine doctor is not covered by insurance—but these are things I refuse to compromise on. Then there’s our monthly mortgage, annual expenses like auto/home insurance, the kids’ schooling, basic utilities, everyday household goods (like toilet paper and cleaning supplies), and donations to think about. Of course, this does not include all of the “superfluous spending” that we consider discretionary yet desirable for a life well lived. I love to travel, for example, and to frequent local coffee shops, and to buy thrifted books! (A girl also needs a new stain-free matching set every once in a while.)

Whew, it’s a lot! And just another reason why being more intentional instead of impulsive with our money was crucial to our financial wellbeing and longevity going forward.

THE APP THAT CHANGED THE WAY WE SPEND

We were in the market for something reliable and user-friendly to help us organize every transaction, plan for every goal, track every investment, and streamline every budget. Enter Monarch, the app that changed the way we see our finances. Monarch makes the budgeting process so straightforward that even I can do it, and dare I say, enjoy the daily tinkering as if it’s a game. With this simple switch, I’m noticing in myself not only a willingness but an enthusiasm to make the empowering decisions that lead to significant savings over time. We finally feel like we’re in the driver’s seat of our family’s financial future rather than being dragged along for the ride.

In Part 2, I will cover in detail how Scott and I use the app and why, even after several years, we still love it enough to pay for it. In the meantime, the link provided gives you an extended free trial if you’re interested in giving budgeting for dummies a go. No more complicated spreadsheets or keeping track of every single purchase in your paper planner. Time is money, after all. And because of Monarch, I’m optimistic that 2025 will find us with an abundance of both.

Top photo by Annie Spratt.