On (Middle-Class) Frugality

At the beginning of last year, I decided that if I could cut my family’s weekly expenses, not including mortgage payments, to $400, then our life would be better. Optimized. Simpler. Less cluttered. There had to be a trick to it, a hack, such that if I gave up the small stuff, I’d be able to afford what I wanted the most. After spending the pandemic with my family constrained to our little house in Ottawa, I wanted to swim in the ocean; eat ripe, flavorful fruit in January; or walk through a city where I didn’t know the language.

My husband and I had been carrying a credit card balance since we’d had to replace a broken washing machine. My sister had told me to get a line of credit, but I kept thinking I could pay off the credit card debt before accruing interest on it. Interest on credit card balances turns out to be quite high. Then there were the large, once-a-year expenses, including car insurance and summer camp registration for the kids. Groceries were more expensive than they had been the year before. Our car, which needed repairs every year, would eventually be unfixable.

In an Excel spreadsheet, I modeled what would happen to our bank account if we spent only $400 a week. Quickly, the credit card debt would be paid off. Then the money would start to accumulate. By summer, we would have a surplus, enough to pay for a vacation. Looking at the numbers made me feel hopeful and oddly accomplished—it was like watching a home renovation show; I felt I’d achieved something just by watching it be done.

In my early 20s, I’d lived on $800 a month, including rent. I lived with housemates, once on a few square feet of floor meant to be a landing at the top of a staircase. I felt enriched by the cobbled-together arrangements I’d made for thrift. I’d ended up in interesting places among fascinating people. A friend I’d made in the landing-as-bedroom house officiated my wedding ceremony.

Not having enough money could make a person miserable, I knew. Too much money, I’d heard, had its own psychological consequences. But what was the relationship between money and happiness among my demographic of middle-class people with kids, mortgages, Netflix accounts, gym memberships, farm shares, and registered retirement savings plans?