I used to think cutting spending meant going full minimalist. Like, I had to suddenly live in a capsule wardrobe, make my own almond milk, and never set foot in Target again. But every time I tried an all-or-nothing approach, I ended up swinging back hard in the other direction—usually with a cart full of “treat yourself” chaos and a wave of regret I couldn’t quite afford.
So instead of cutting everything, I started asking one simple question before every purchase: Is this costing me more peace than it’s giving me?
And wow—did that question change things.
Let’s talk about a few things I stopped buying. Not because they’re bad. Not because I don’t want them. But because in this season of life, they were costing me more than they were worth.
1. Fast fashion “fixes”
Every few weeks, I’d scroll through sales and order a cute top or two. It gave me a hit of excitement—and then I’d still feel “meh” about what was in my closet. The truth was, I didn’t need more clothes. I needed to stop dressing for a version of myself I wished I was and start getting real about what I actually wear. Now I buy less, but I buy with intention. It’s not about being trendy—it’s about not wasting money on stuff that doesn’t fit my life or my body right now.
2. The “emotional grocery shop”
I’d walk into Trader Joe’s with a short list and leave with $120 worth of snacks and half a cheese board. I was buying for an imaginary dinner party version of me, not the tired Tuesday night me who just wanted a veggie stir-fry and some tea. I didn’t go full austerity, but I started planning meals I actually like to eat, including lazy meals. Peace came from knowing my fridge made sense—not from six types of hummus I’d never finish.
3. Random home goods (aka “the nesting trap”)
I love a cozy apartment. But I was low-key using candles, throw pillows, and decor as a way to feel in control when the rest of my life felt chaotic. I still love making my space feel good—but now, I do it on a plan. I make a list. I save for the thing. I wait. It’s slower, yes. But it’s also peaceful. And I don’t wake up surrounded by clutter and receipts I regret.
4. Convenience disguised as “self-care”
Food delivery. Uber rides. $18 salads. These things felt like self-care when I was overwhelmed—but they were really stress spending. Now, I ask myself: is this saving me time and energy… or is it just avoiding planning ahead? I still use delivery sometimes. But now it’s a decision, not a reflex.
5. Beauty products I bought out of insecurity
I was spending so much money chasing a version of myself I didn’t even like—trying to fix my under-eye circles, my curly hair, my not-perfect skin. It’s wild how many dollars I gave to brands that made me feel less-than. Now I only buy beauty products that make me feel like me. Not more polished. Just more grounded.
This isn’t a no-buy challenge. It’s a re-buy mindset.
Peace doesn’t come from cutting joy. It comes from cutting the noise. The pressure. The false urgency to keep up, glow up, and spend like everything’s fine when it’s not.
Letting go of these spending habits gave me something I didn’t know I needed: margin. Space. Permission to stop performing.
And the best part? I didn’t feel deprived. I felt free.
So if you’re feeling like your spending is spiraling or you’re stuck in that guilt-regret-repeat cycle, maybe don’t start with a spreadsheet. Start with this:
What would feel like peace right now?
Then build your money habits around that.