The True Story of a Shopaholic

Shopaholic (n): a person that has a detrimental addiction to spending unnecessary amounts of money on superfluous items.

I was born to shop. My mom has been taking us shopping since I can remember. When I received my driver’s license at 16, I navigated to the mall as if on autopilot, without directions or instructions even though I had never driven there myself. It was like being called to the mother ship!

Shopping was a problem solver. I left school at age 17 in the middle of the day after receiving a failing grade on a term paper I had worked very hard on. Whispers started that I had ran away, was going to commit suicide (over a term paper? Really?) and other various reports that were false.

My parents called the police and reported me missing. A few hours later I returned home to the chaos, sheepishly clutching the Dillard’s bag that held the new dress I had bought.

Anyone that really knew me would have known I was at the mall. The mall has been a place of happiness my whole life. The scent of perfume and leather shoes inside the department stores instantly slows my blood pressure. The cookie and fast food smells of the food court are soothing.

Shopping is an instant cure for anything and everything that is wrong in my life.

I really didn’t think I had a shopping problem until I became older and had my daughter. I was a single mom for a while, and I had a job for the first time in years outside the home. We were struggling financially pretty badly. I received my first tax refund and it was about $1500.

Instead of saving it, I took it to the mall. I told myself I deserved new things, clothes for my daughter, underwear for me, new shoes, presents for loved ones. I ended up getting my car repossessed for nonpayment.

I realized that shopping fills a hole in me that I’ve desperately tried to fill for years. What was the hole? I had a great childhood, so it wasn’t parental issues. Maybe it was love. A string of unsuccessful relationships had culminated in a divorce at the age of 27.

Shopping was love. It was like food for my soul, but there were always consequences. When I lived alone, I didn’t have to explain to anyone why I had to go spend part of my paychecks on silly stuff like lip gloss or a new handbag I couldn’t afford.

Once I got into a long term relationship, it became harder to hide because I had to be culpable to someone else. That’s when things began to unravel.

I decided to go to college. College gave me student loan money. Yes I knew I’d have to pay it back later but I had thousands of dollars at my disposal! I went through almost $8,000 in less than a WEEK. Yes, some of it went to rent and bills, but mostly, I blew it. I knew I had a problem. But I still couldn’t stop. I could finally buy the things I wanted.

Of course, I may not have the money to pay my bills or rent but still, I shopped, even with these horrible consequences looming over me.

The one defining moment that made me realize I had a problem (yes, I know, I should have seen it before now!) was when I was out shopping at a discount store. I had no money but I was browsing in between my classes. I saw a Juicy Couture sweatsuit at less than half the price. I had to have it! Seriously!

So what did I do? I ran to my car, heart beating fast. Yes, when I wanted an item, it became physical. My heart would race and I’d be tense until it was in my hands. If I saw it online and couldn’t purchase it, I’d lie in bed for hours thinking about possessing it.

So, I did something rash. I called my bank on my cell phone and used the line of credit the bank offers all of its customers. The limit varies based on income, but I had enough to use to buy the sweatsuit. I felt horribly guilty about it but that didn’t stop me.

That was several years ago, and since then, I haven’t been as bad. What did I do to stop the shopping? I make myself tell my partner about everything I buy and how much I spend. This honesty makes it hard for me to buy silly stuff, knowing I will have to tell him about it and ‘fess up. Also, no more hiding bags or purchases.

I budget myself heavily. When I went shopping, I’d tell myself I was spending $500, but really, I’d spend $1,000. That can’t happen anymore. I stick to a budget. Sometimes it helps to ditch the debit card and only withdraw enough cash that you can spend.

I also think about the big picture. How can I shop when my kids need new shoes, or I haven’t paid the phone bill? Thinking responsibly made the desire to shop diminish a bit. Now, I let myself buy something small so I don’t feel totally deprived, like a fashion magazine or an eye shadow. It’s not perfect, but it’s a start.