From the Reject Pile: Gimme Some Credit

I love Jane Pratt. I always have, she's my editorial icon and she's adorable with glossy hair and cute glasses, and she was the object of my very first girl-crush the first time I saw her on "The Jane Pratt Show." She was also the editor of my favorite magazine, Jane.

Jane was like a riot grrrl bible, and while I didn't riot much, I did love the idea of it, and the magazine's real-girl tone. My favorite section of the magazine was called "It Happened to Me," where readers wrote in their real life stories about experiences that changed their lives.

I decided to submit a story to Jane about my credit card debt and my struggle to get back in the black. It was, sadly, rejected-- and a story about a woman who became addicted to self-tanner ran instead (complete with orange-faced photo). It turned out, I realized later, than my dear Jane Pratt had been sacked, and her namesake magazine was already being overhauled by the time I hit "send" on my story. I stopped reading Jane-- I just didn't enjoy it anymore. Shortly thereafter, it folded. It seemed Jane couldn't go on without Jane or Julia.

While it's not exactly new writing, it's new to you. So, thanks to Jane's rejection I have a new blog posting. Straight out of the reject pile, for your reading pleasure, is my 2006 submission to Jane magazine. It seemed a shame to me that it never got read, because as I say in the piece, my openness about my debt has enabled people to approach me and ask for advice about their own credit card nightmares. I am always willing to share my story because I think it's important to know that when you're drowning in debt it is scary, but you're not alone, and you can get out of it. So read, enjoy, and post your credit rating in the comments! Ha!

It Happened to Me: I spent $23,000 on Overalls.

“Just tell me, Julia-- just tell me how much. Is it $3,000? Is it 10? Oh, you’re scaring me.”

I couldn’t speak. As soon as I had hung up with my credit card company, it had been instinct to call my father, Fixer of All Things, and now partially out of denial and partially out of concern for his bad heart, I was regretting it.

Deep breath. Here comes my big secret.

“It’s $23,000 dollars, Dad. I have $23,000 in credit card debt.”

***

I wish that I could start this tale by itemizing the great things I’d bought with my credit cards. I’d love to list rich leather Marc Jacobs bags, piles of Manolo Blahniks and vacations on the shores of Greece. But I can’t. In fact, I can’t remember most of what that $23,000 went to-- some ill advised overalls--yes, overalls (in multiple colors)-- during college (it was the '90s), rounds of drinks for “friends” whose names I can’t recall, clothes I didn’t need or even really like that much but found on sale. That's about as much as I can remember.

As the bills grew, so did my denial. I’d look at a credit card statement and think, “Oh, $3,000 isn’t that bad,” without acknowledging of the five other cards in my wallet with charges at least that high. Then the snowball effect: I’d spend my paycheck on my credit card bills, trying to give each at least $20 over the minimum balance, then have no money leftover to live on until the next payday, and have to use the credit cards again. Tack on the finance charges and interest rates (some as high as 24.99%), and my debt was increasing by about $300 a month-- even if I didn’t spend a dime. I hid the mounting stress from my family and friends.

When I decided to consolidate (a bill with minimum payment of $980 broke my denial and made it an easy decision), my mother said, “You’ve decided to do something. You’re in the solution, and you're going to get out of this. You did the hard part, making the decision. Now it will get better.” And she was right. I even felt better-- the idea of being debt free one day motivated me and helped me get through the hard days ahead. In the weeks that followed, I was turned down for loans everywhere I went because my salary was too low, and my credit cards would only increase my limit by a few thousand dollars so I could keep spending, but I couldn’t consolidate with them. It was hard not to feel hopeless.

In that time, I learned that I was the ideal credit card customer: poorly educated in interest rates, paying only the minimum balance. I had been the student on campus who signed up for a card to get the freebies (pizza! T-shirts!) and never read the fine print about how those 0% interest rates can shoot up to 20% after six months.

While paying off my debt, I learned exactly how much I didn’t need. I went from having too much to realizing how little I needed or wanted. I checked prices, packed lunches, and, even after losing more than 40lbs, bought limited clothing, only on sale and only with cash.

I was extremely fortunate to have a very supportive family. In the end, my parents took a risk by cosigning my loan, and I proudly tell you that I made tremendous payments every month, never missing one, never being late, and never asking them to cover it for me. My brothers, sister-in-law and nephew accepted homemade crafts for holidays. They never made me feel weird or badly about any of it-- they were proud of me, and they made me realize that I should be proud, too.

I’m writing this on the day before I make my final debt payment. With interest on the loan, I will have paid off $26,000 in almost three years. I can’t say it has been easy, but I can say that it feels very good-- and it has from the second I made the first payment. I dug myself out: I am debt free. My openness about my debt has led people to approach me about their similar (or worse) situations and ask for help. They feel like they’re drowning. I remember that feeling well. And I tell them to listen to my mother: You have decided to do something, and now you're in the solution. You will get out of this, and you will feel better.

Julia Donahue, 29, grew up in Brooklyn, New York, where she currently lives as a writer on a tight budget.