How I Cut My Holiday Spending By $1,000 Without Feeling Like A Scrooge

On paper, I am the embodiment of a financially responsible person — I paid off my student loans, and bought my first house all on a teacher salary. But those feats also hide the fact that there was a time in my life that I was overdrafting my account to buy sneakers and eating Costco samples for dinner because I didn’t have money for groceries. I was a consistent overspender who constantly talked myself into “little treats” to make myself feel better. I was trapped in an endless expensive cycle. 

Holidays, in particular, were the worst. Every year, I was filled with anxiety and dread because I’d spend an excessive amount of time and money trying to buy the perfect outfits for parties and the perfect gifts for loved ones. Instead of enjoying my time with them and living in the moment, I was preoccupied with trying to curate an illusory holiday vibe. After years of this, I was mentally exhausted and embarrassingly broke.

I finally decided I wanted to do better, but didn’t know how to start. So I googled: “How to celebrate the holidays when you’re broke.” Most of the results focused on budgeting and side hustles. I didn’t want to do either. I wasn’t earning enough money to budget, and I wanted to be able to celebrate the way I wanted to. I’d also never budgeted before. How was I supposed to give meaningful gifts on a budget?  

Knowing I still had to try something, I put together a loose attempt at a budget. After painfully combing through my finances, I realized that I had about $300 dollars remaining after my expenses were paid, and if I cut out some extraneous expenses for a while, I could put an extra $200 towards the holidays. 

Although I was accustomed to spending three-times more every year, I sat down with that budget, and made three lists. The first was the names of people I wanted to buy gifts for. The second covered any activities, parties, or dinners that would require spending. The final list was the “maybe pile”— events that I hadn’t yet committed to, and people I possibly could buy gifts for.

Instead of immediately running to the mall like I usually would, I sat with the first list. There were seven people on it, and I was aiming for around $35 to $40 per gift. YouTube and Pinterest helped me generate ideas that were within that budget. I also really thought about what brought each name individual joy. This helped me think creatively about what I would give them. My youngest brother, for example, has a deeply rooted love of music, so I gifted him a few records that came out the year he was born. That gift would lead to so many amazing future conversations between us. 

Was this easy? Not always. There were several times I’d find the “perfect” gift for someone that far exceeded my budget, and would still be tempted to swipe my card because “it's better to give than to receive,” right? Old habits die hard, but I reminded myself that I was no longer glamorizing overspending under the guise of the holiday spirit. Being on a budget helped me mindfully prioritize my loved ones in a meaningful way without causing mental and financial stress.    

Surprisingly, the hardest part of navigating my holiday budget for the first time wasn’t buying gifts for others — it was not buying things for myself. Something about the holidays amplified my desire for newness. Besides being an unsustainable habit it was also very expensive. Did I really need to buy an ugly sweater for this year’s party when I have 13 of them already hanging in my closet?

Cue list two. I looked at the list of activities and events, estimated how much I would realistically need to spend, and shopped my closet for outfits I already owned. To scratch that “new item” itch, I proposed an ugly sweater swap for Friendsmas. This has since become one of my favorite and most memorable holiday traditions and costs $0.

By the time I made my way through list one and two, I didn’t have enough left in my budget to spend on the activities or names on list three. As a recovering people pleaser with severe FOMO, this was initially difficult to accept — I wasn’t used to telling people no. But, I eventually worked up the nerve to politely decline participating in things I couldn’t financially manage. After the uncomfortable phone calls and text messages, I felt a huge sense of relief that I could preserve my energy for the events that really mattered without pushing myself into a deeper financial hole.

That was 10 years ago, and — surprise! — I’ve been following a holiday budget ever since. During that first year, I spent a little more than $500. There were expenses I forgot to account for, like wrapping paper, greeting cards and commuting costs that slipped my mind. I was disappointed in myself, especially after I tried really hard to stick to my numbers. But, I didn’t stop because I messed up one time. If anything, the experience proved that I could stick to a budget without feeling like I was restricted throughout the festive season. 

As cheesy as it sounds, my favorite part about implementing a budget was how it helped calm my anxiety and made it easier to stay present with my loved ones. I stopped feeling so frazzled around the holidays and my mental health greatly improved. I gained a greater appreciation for the traditions, time shared with others and experiences rather than worrying about the price of gifts or how I’d pay off my credit card come January. Now, every fall, I repeat the same tradition I started a decade ago. I set some time aside to look through my statements and create my holiday budget. 

While it may not be the sexiest thing to do on a Friday night, budgeting has given me the opportunity to enjoy more of life than I ever could’ve imagined and I couldn’t be more thankful for that.