It all began in 2005. It had been a whole year since I had graduated from college with my bachelor degree. I considered myself a lifelong student and still yearned to continue my education. An advertisement for an online university caught my eye and, after filling out a brief survey, a representative contacted me. At first I was hesitant; my finances were far from favorable and education is certainly costly. The representative, an older woman with a hint of emphysema in her voice, convinced me that student loans were the answer. Of course she sugarcoated it by calling the student loans “financial aid”, but no worries, I didn’t have to pay any of it back until I graduated. In fact, with a federal student loan, the government even paid my interest for me! What a deal!
I went through the motions, signing promissory notes, not really reading the parts about interest rates and payments. “I’ll worry about that when the time comes,” I thought. I accepted every penny that the lenders offered me, never stopping to think that I was racking up debt. In fact, I borrowed enough money to pay for tuition, fees, and books and even had enough to spare. I felt a twinge of guilt as I raided my favorite stores in the mall, but quickly dismissed it, rationalizing my splurging as necessary student expenses.
Quarter after quarter, the lenders sent me money and I faithfully cashed my checks. It was like I was addicted. I studied, I passed my courses, and thousands of dollars later, I received my MBA. After receiving my graduate degree, I just knew I would triple my salary. I didn’t.
Several months after I graduated, my grace period on my loans came to an abrupt end. I received an ominous note in the mail. “I couldn’t have borrowed that much money!” I exclaimed, dumbfounded by the monthly bill that looked a lot like my rent payment. There had to be some mistake, some kind of miscalculation because I certainly couldn’t afford to pay that. I did what any law-abiding citizen accused of murder would do—I denied it. Perhaps if I ignored it, the debt would just go away. But it didn’t. I was no longer a student and I had to repay my student loan debt. Every penny.
I confessed to my husband. “Honey, I’m a murderer,” I blurted out as I looked him square in the eyes. “I killed my finances.”
“You’re sure you killed them?” he replied nonchalantly. “Maybe you’re exaggerating. Maybe its just assault with a deadly weapon.”
“No,” I shook my head solemnly. “They’re dead.”
I quickly realized that my student loans weren’t going away. Trying to fit that enormous monthly payment into my budget was like trying to shove a square peg into a round hole. It wasn’t going to work. I just knew we’d never get to go out to dinner or catch a movie again. We’d be forced to eat Ramen noodles for dinner every night. I’d have to sell everything I owned and pawn my jewelry.
“Would you be offended if I became a stripper?” I asked my husband. He rolled his eyes.
I knew I was a murderer and accepted the fact that I would have to do my time. I confessed to my best friend that I was depressed.
“Have you thought about consolidation?” she asked cheerfully.
That one little word, “consolidation”, saved my life and kept me from a death sentence. I did some research and found that, not only could I consolidate my student loans, I could lower my interest rates as well as my monthly payment. This was the redemption I was looking for.
I sat down with my bills and a calculator. I had consolidated my student loans into one monthly payment that was manageable. “Honey, I’m on parole!” I exclaimed to my husband as I pecked away happily at my calculator.
After the turmoil, I was finally able to accept that my finances had died. I had been ignorant, unaware that financial aid could be a weapon of mass destruction if I allowed it. However, there is life after student loan debt. I was able to consolidate my student loans into a payment that I could afford.
No longer did I have to look at debt repayment as the enemy. No longer did I have to feel guilty for borrowing money for my education. Now I had hope—hope that I would be able to once again take control of my finances and one day be free of student loan debt.
One evening after dinner, I turned to my husband. “I think I would like to get a PhD.” He rolled his eyes.
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