Lynda Moore says when expenses exceed income, it is a signal. Solving the imbalance with more debt might put off the reckoning or the eventual shame. But listen to the signal she says and deal with it

There’s a particular kind of relief that comes from swiping a card when you’re short. The bill gets paid. The groceries make it to the counter. The petrol tank gets filled. Whatever crisis was sitting in your chest a moment ago quietly dissolves, at least for now.  This was me just over 20 years ago when I was struggling to make the ends meet after my marriage ended. I was just hanging onto my business by my fingernails too. I think at one stage I had about 12 credit cards, and before I went to the supermarket, I put them into the machine to see which one had enough credit to pay for my groceries.  I really was borrowing from Peter to pay Paul. 

I felt deeply ashamed of the situation I was in.  So, I want to start by saying something I don’t think gets said enough: reaching for credit when the numbers don’t stretch is not a character flaw.

For a lot of households right now, there simply isn’t enough money coming in to cover everything going out. Rents and mortgages, insurance, rates, power and food can all take a significant bite out of household income. When essential costs outpace income, borrowing isn’t necessarily recklessness. Sometimes, it’s simply the math. Someone putting an unexpected bill on a credit card isn’t automatically being “bad with money”. They’re doing what many of us would do when the numbers don’t work: finding a way to make them work anyway, even if that solution comes with a cost later. 

That feeling of relief, though, is worth paying attention to. Not judging. Just noticing.

Debt solves an immediate and very real discomfort. The anxiety of an unpaid bill, the embarrassment of a declined card, or the fear of not being able to cover this week’s groceries can all disappear when credit provides a way through. Our brains naturally give more weight to what is happening right now than to something that will happen in the future. So, anything that removes immediate pain can feel like a good decision in the moment, even when we know there will be a cost attached later. 

That isn’t weakness. It’s being human.

The trouble starts when borrowing becomes a pattern rather than a one-off. This is the slippery slope to long term debt and stress. 

Because mechanically, you’re not really solving today’s problem. You’re relocating it. You’re taking a chunk of tomorrow’s income and using it today, often with interest added on. The problem hasn’t disappeared. It has simply moved forward in time, and it can become more expensive while it’s there.

And here’s the part that catches so many good, capable and intelligent people off guard: this shift can happen almost invisibly. This is what happened to me, I was so busy fighting financial fires, I wasn’t watching the totals at all and they weren’t creeping up, they were galloping. 

A minimum payment here, a Buy Now, Pay Later instalment there. Each one can feel small enough to absorb, and none of them particularly alarming on their own. You can be making every payment on time and feel like you’re managing things reasonably well, while your overall financial position is quietly getting worse month by month.

The individual repayments might be manageable. It’s the accumulating claim on your future income that becomes the problem.

This is usually where shame shows up, and shame is probably the least useful visitor in this whole story.

Once someone starts believing that debt means they’ve failed, they tend to do one of two things. They either avoid looking at the full picture altogether, or they berate themselves in ways that drain the very energy and clarity they need to sort things out. And if you really want to beat yourself up, you do both!

Shame narrows our thinking. It makes us want to hide the bank app rather than open it. But avoiding the numbers is exactly what allows small, manageable-feeling debts to quietly become something much harder to unwind.

In this situation, what is useful, if it’s not guilt and it’s not simply being told to “stop spending”?

Start by stepping back and asking a more useful question: 

What problem am I actually trying to solve?

Because “I’m in debt” isn’t really a diagnosis. It’s a symptom, and different causes need different responses.

Once I asked myself the question, I was able to start to see some light at the end of the tunnel.  It took drilling down into my numbers to see what the real issue was before I could start to make changes that worked long-term. 

Is it a spending problem, where money is available but is slipping away in ways that don’t reflect what matters to you?

Is it an income problem, where the money coming in simply isn’t enough, no matter how carefully you manage it?

Is it a timing problem, where there is enough money over the course of the year, but it doesn’t arrive when you need it?

Or is it a cost problem, where the fixed commitments you’ve built your life around no longer fit the income you have?

Or is it a combination of all of them? 

Each of those points to a different solution. Depending on what your numbers are saying will lead you to solutions.  From personal experience, some of those solutions are very hard to do. 

You can’t budget your way out of an income shortfall. And earning more won’t necessarily fix a situation where your fixed costs have grown beyond what your income can comfortably support.

So, here’s the thought I’d leave you with.

You don’t need to be bad with money to end up in debt.

Sometimes you simply have a moment when today’s rent, this week’s groceries or an unexpected bill is bigger than what’s available, and you have access to a system that lets you borrow against tomorrow to cover it.

That isn’t a moral failing.

It’s a signal.

And signals are only useful if you’re willing to listen to what they’re telling you, rather than what you’re afraid they say about you.

Debt isn’t necessarily the enemy. Not understanding what it’s trying to show you might be.

*Lynda Moore is a Money Mentalist coach and New Zealand’s only certified New Money Story® mentor. Lynda helps you understand why you do the things you do with your money, when we all know we should spend less than we earn. You can contact her here.