I have never been fantastic about money. I would prefer to hoard it, ignore it, covet it, and complain about it, rather than take an active, responsible role in managing it. As a child, I got all my clothes off the clearance racks. As a young adult, I chose my treats based on what might be best, not on what was cheapest. As a high school graduate, I hoarded all my paychecks from my minimum-wage jobs, occasionally even forgetting to deposit them into the bank for weeks or months at a time.

By the time I graduated from college, I had almost $100,000 in student loans. I lived in an expensive apartment and bought cable TV and Internet access. I ate out for almost every meal, or had three- to-four microwavable dinners at a time. I had lost my first roommate, and my second roommate had found a girlfriend and moved out almost as soon as he moved in. I had the place to myself to do what I wanted when I wanted, but I wasn’t happy. I could never figure out what was wrong with me. I tried everything I could to feel better, but no amount of TV watching, Internet browsing, or sleep relieved my misery.

My roommate had moved out, but his belongings were still in the apartment, so I could not try to find another person to share the apartment expenses. It never occurred to me to ask my former roommate to make a decision. I felt trapped and resentful. My solution was to demand from him not only his half of the rent for the apartment, but also his half of the utilities and the cable, on the basis that I could not afford it on my own. However, I always had enough money for food. I was conscious of the trouble I was in, but I refused to open my bank account statements, and I could not resist the extra treat or side when frequenting fast food places. By the time I moved home, I had managed to rack up $2000 in debt, just from bank fees alone.

I got my bachelors degree in November and did a three-month unpaid internship with the school through March. My lease ended in April and I moved back home with my parents, under the condition that I was “not to sabotage” my mother’s new eating plan. She had found FA three months earlier. I agreed not only to be supportive, but to join as well, thinking that perhaps I could stand to lose five or ten pounds myself.

I started this program in 2008, and I’m grateful that I did, because FA has changed my life. I’ve lost 155 pounds, have a fantastic relationship with my mother today, and am truly happy with my life. The facts haven’t change, but I have. I still live with my parents, I still work in a job, not a career, and I’m still afraid of financial responsibility. But today, there is a solution.

As I started working with my sponsor, something strange happened. Little by little, I started caring. With her help, I got a job at a temp agency. I opened a bank account, and my sponsor helped me to be more disciplined about depositing each check as I received it. We eventually worked on calling up the student loan holders, and making arrangements to pay off the loans, instead of deferring payments and hiding from them. Each step I took felt like a weight being lifted off my shoulders. I didn’t need to be afraid! It was okay to not know everything about everything. I could admit that and ask for help where it was needed.

I no longer hide from my mail and my responsibilities. I pay all my bills with auto-pay so I won’t forget, but I don’t ignore them either. I try to be responsible with my money and my budget, and I’m working with my sponsor to cure my hoarding instinct and spend money on things I really want, like the occasional full-price clothing, or online classes to refresh my career skills.

During my quiet time, I have started thinking about finally paying my parents back. I’ve opened a savings account, and I plan to call and negotiate for better terms with my loan holders. In previous years, I would have relied on my father to call for me, and would have ignored the results. Today, I can face the responsibility myself, openly, honestly and competently, trusting that God will help me handle the situations that used to baffle me.