There’s a phrase I use sometimes that makes me wince even as it leaves my mouth I say it to friends when I have to decline a concert and to family when a birthday gift is late to myself when I’m staring at a grocery list that’s longer than my bank balance and that phrase is “Sorry,” I’ll sigh “I’m just broke.”i used to think that statement was purely mathematical with a simple equation like Expenses > Income, or It was a temporary condition a problem to be solved by the next paycheck a side hustle or a period of extreme frugality or even that It was about the numbers in an app, the declining balance at the Atm and the relentless pile of envelopes on the counter.
But I’ve learned that being broke is so much more than a financial state It’s a full-body all-consuming headspace It’s mostly the specific gut-clenching anxiety that hits you after you’ve swiped your card at the gas pump, praying it doesn’t decline and embarrass you in front of a line of strangers with the constant mental calculus of deciding which bill can be “a little late” this month without causing total catastrophe. It’s the creative lie you tell a friend about why you can’t meet them for dinner because “I literally cannot afford the appetizer” feels too heavy too vulnerable to voice aloud.
It’s has been the profound loneliness of scrolling through social media a highlight reel of vacations, new homes and fancy dinners, while you’re eating beans and rice for the third night in a row It feels like everyone is moving forward on a train you couldn’t afford a ticket for
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