I was a financial mess before tragedy struck. But that reckoning brought a sense of empowerment
We enjoyed spending the money and we were trapped by it. That's just how life was
This First Person column is the experience of Debbie Belgrave, who lives in Calgary. For more information about CBC's First Person stories, please see the FAQ.
When I was younger, I gave no thought to personal finances. I drove a luxury vehicle, enjoyed travelling the world with my husband Tyler, eating out and feeling carefree.
I was also consumed by my work. I had a demanding government job that increasingly took up nearly all my mental bandwidth — leaving less and less for my family and hobbies. When I thought about it, I wanted to leave. But the paycheque went straight to utilities, childcare and an increasing debt.
We enjoyed spending the money and we were trapped by it. That's just how life was.
The day everything changed was supposed to be like any other Sunday. I woke up in the morning when my four-year-old daughter India climbed on the bed. Then I realized Tyler wasn't beside me.
He was still upstairs on the couch, lying in exactly the same position as when I left the night before, sitting upright, head tilted slightly left ear toward his left shoulder. And as India started to climb up and try to get his attention, he barely responded.
I called 911.
It was the beginning of a long journey for both of us — and not just a medical journey, but a trip that would challenge my own sense of self, finances, material things and life overall.
A neurologist in the emergency room said Tyler experienced a ruptured brain aneurysm and multiple strokes. He had a successful angiogram surgery, but afterward, the medical team warned me that he would not be the same person he was before.
It was true. When we left the hospital, he was no longer outgoing, spontaneous and energetic. Eventually a specialist concluded in a written letter for government support, "Tyler will be unable to work again."
At first, I was just grateful Tyler was alive. Then I started to take stock of the situation. I remembered the little embryo growing inside me and my four-year-old daughter. I thought of our debts. The weight of our new norm came crashing down on me.
In the months that followed, I dreamed I was crouching under an unstable bridge as a black tanker train rushed toward me.
Tyler's income dropped to $20,000 a year from $270,000. I kept my secure, higher-paying government job out of necessity and relied on friends and family to get us through the first months.
When my youngest was born, I realized I couldn't afford to get a nanny. Instead I gambled that Tyler was capable enough to care for her and handle drop-off/pick-ups for India at kindergarten. The gamble paid off and everyone survived.
I made other hard decisions. We sold our luxury car and bought a 2005 Acura TL from my sister for $1. Our exotic travel destination became Kelowna, B.C., since we could stay with our best friend's family. Higher-end restaurants turned into a rare visit for Vietnamese takeout and I thrifted a designer dress for a good friend's wedding.
But the funny thing is, this isn't just a tale of struggle. Somehow managing my finances became something I enjoy.
At first, it was because budgeting was a balm for my anxiety. Every dollar spent was accounted for and when feelings of panic rose, I went back to the spreadsheet, did some calculations and took a deep breath.
That gave me confidence and I started reading books about personal finances, saving and investing, such as Your Money or Your Life by Joseph R. Dominguez and Vicki Robin.
I remember the first time our mortgage came up for renewal. Because of that book, I started working on the mortgage renewal six months before the due date. I contacted two different banks, sat down with the branch managers, and sent email to recap the key points of discussion. We went back and forth for two months as they submitted applications and waited for interest rate approvals.
I know this sounds like a resume but even as I type this now I'm proud of myself. I didn't accept everything the bank was telling me. Once the mortgage closed, I printed an amortization schedule and for each mortgage payment I made, I crossed it off with a black marker.
Soon I was paying off other debts, one by one, selling extra things from our household on Facebook marketplace. I started an emergency fund by setting up an automatic payment into a separate savings account — $25 a month.
It's been a long journey, but after all the tragedy and pain I actually feel a greater sense of freedom. Ten years later, I still work for the same employer but I feel like I have a choice, and I've found empowerment by working to create the type of life I want.
Tyler is a supportive, stay-at-home dad doing projects around the house and we're now able to save up for the occasional vacation. We're now more reflective and aware and our life together feels deeper.
Telling your story
This First Person piece came from a writing workshop run in partnership with the Calgary Public Library at the Crowfoot branch. Read more about CBC Calgary's workshops at cbc.ca/tellingyourstory.
More personal stories from CBC writing workshops:
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