As a college student, I did what everyone on my campus did and signed up for a credit card with a $2000 limit in order to score some cool red plastic cups in which to pour beer and possibly a tee-shirt for a baseball team I don't even really like.
I didn't know anything about credit cards. Since the age of 11, I'd earned allowance in the form of cash, doing chores around the house, and at the age of 16, began working part-time at on Old Navy and lifeguarding during the summers. The concept of "borrowed money" or "credit" wasn't one I was familiar with. I knew my mom had credit cards for department stores, and that my parents often whipped out plastic to pay for family dinners or schoolbooks. Other than that, I was blissfully unaware.
Now, I'm 25 years old, and have a respectable $3,500 in credit card debt, spread across three credit cards (not counting two store credit cards which are paid off in full). Why do I have three credit cards? I'm not even sure. But they all seem to be constantly in close to maxed out status, no matter how much more than the minimum I pay every month.
I've finally settled into the first post-collegiate job I can see myself sticking with long-term (I've bounced around for four years, from journalism to politics to administrative and back to journalism), and I make a decent enough living that I can really start to tackle this mound of debt.
But I'm pissed off. I knew better than to open the other two credit cards. If I had stuck to one, I'd have a comparably manageable $1,900 in debt. I know having multiple accounts so close to their limit for so long has hurt my credit. That's frustrating because my boyfriend and I are looking to buy our first home. Knowing I'm handicapping our ability to get the best possible mortgage makes me ashamed and furious.
But when I search my memory, I realize that the credit cards have actually helped me in crucial circumstances. There were the three months I was between jobs and spent my savings to pay rent. The credit cards paid my groceries, internet bill (needed the net to search for jobs), and the store credit cards helped me buy the suit that I wore to the interview that got me my current job. I've needed airline tickets to get to close friends' weddings and buy bridesmaid dresses. I've had cell phone and cable bills to pay. Not to mention the mountain of medical expenses and prescription co-pays. My birth control pills. My migraine meds. And when my checking account dwindled near zero, the credit cards really did keep me afloat.
Are the interest rates I'm paying now worth it for me to have gone through those tough times without sinking? I'd have to say probably. Though I survived on Ramen noodles at times, I never starved. I never worried my lights or heat would be turned off.
Much as I hate the $3,500 that haunts me whenever I spend money on myself and not paying off my debt, I know I'd have been worse off, having to borrow money from my parents or take the first job I was offered. And the fact that I can't really hate the credit card companies is perhaps what makes me the maddest.