Confessions of a Former Shopaholic

Real Talk Vol. 8

In my twenties, I shopped. A lot.

Stores, online carts, midnight scrolls, if it was cute, it was mine.

It was a habit I picked up from my mom and grandmother.

Shopping was our love language.

Our therapy.

Our weekend ritual.

My dad used to take us to Foot Locker every Friday for new shoes.

My mom would take us to the mall.

And once online shopping entered the chat, it was over.

Add to cart. Checkout. Repeat.

Now that I’m in my late twenties, I can admit it.

Some of those buys were impulsive.

Some things were never used.

Some still have the tags on them.

Sometimes shopping wasn’t about the item, it was about the feeling.

That quick high.

That rush of newness.

That moment where everything in the cart felt like control.

But here’s the truth:

It was temporary.

The thrill faded.

The boxes piled up.

And my closet started to look like my coping mechanisms.

I’ve cleaned it out more times than I can count.

Each purge felt like a quiet apology to myself for mistaking clutter for comfort.

Now I shop differently.

Intentionally.

I ask, “Do I really want this, or do I just want to feel something right now?”

Sometimes I still slip.

But the difference is awareness.

I don’t spend to fill space anymore.

I spend because I’m full and I want to add something that actually fits.

–C