Personal Stories

I Survived This Year, And I’m Learning Ways To Self-Love Without Spending

A few more days and this year will be over. I find myself pausing, not to announce anything grand, but to admit something quiet yet heavy in my chest: I survived. I made it to December. Not with impressive achievements to display online, not with milestones loud enough to brag about, just slow steps, heavy breaths. A version of me that kept moving, even when I was tired of telling myself I was fine. The past twelve months felt like a long road with too few places to rest. Mornings arrived with work and family responsibilities, nights folded into worries about tomorrow. Salary deposited and depleted almost instantly, thrown off by bills, groceries, and the cost of simply existing. Living felt like working, and working became the way I lived. Transitioning into an adult meant I had to budget and pay my own bills. How do people keep up when everything costs so much more than before? It is true that they say next year might be a tricky year to change jobs, and many companies will not ramp up hiring. This means I will need to keep on going and work hard to keep my job. I don’t think I will be getting a salary increment either. Some nights, I wish I can pause and breathe. But another voice, louder and sharper, insists I haven’t earned rest yet, that I needed to prove more, save more, be more. To prove myself, to what extent? Who am I proving my life for? You can’t fill a cup if the teapot is empty. I need to fill my teapot and care for my personal health and mind. Yes, maybe “healing” in today’s context means going for a nice meal, staycation or buying myself presents. But there are also other ways to heal, for someone like me who doesn’t have much money. Rest can be simple, cheap, even free. A quiet nap can soothe more than a weekend away. Home-cooked food and a favourite movie can feel warmer than any fancy meal. A slow evening walk can clear space in my mind without costing a dollar. So this is my confession, not a celebration of something grand, but my way of surviving this materialistic world. I’m here. I’m still standing. I learnt that rest isn’t failure, and caring for my finances doesn’t mean denying myself joy. Rest is a right, not a reward I earn only when my savings grow. And as this year softens into its final days, I thank the version of me who kept going, and I hope the next version of me moves through life with more kindness, more gentleness, and less financial pressure. This article is part of TSS Confessions, a weekly column where we delve into personal finance topics that are unscripted and genuine real accounts from people.