High Student Loan Debt: A Story of Freedom
“It is with immense relief—and maybe a little disbelief—that I can finally say: my student loans are dead. On August 2, 2019, after six grueling years, I wiped them out. It was a slow, exhausting battle, but every ounce of the fight was worth it.
My journey began back in 2013, the year I graduated with $75,000 in student loans. I moved to New York full of hope, but reality hit fast. I made sure to pay more than the minimums—$1,000 a month, like paying another rent. I took jobs not because they fueled my passions, but because they kept me afloat. Every choice was survival, not desire.
For five straight years, I carried this burden alone. Even after a layoff, I hustled relentlessly and never missed a payment. I’m a single, childless, able-bodied woman, and I consider myself lucky. But “lucky” didn’t erase the loneliness or the constant stress. No one ever paid my bills. No one ever took this weight off my shoulders.
Then, last fall, something inside me broke. Maybe it was the realization that my life felt perpetually on hold, or maybe sheer exhaustion from the grind. Whatever it was, I decided: I was done owing anyone anything. I wanted a future where I could save, dream, and live without the shackles of debt—a house, a family, a life I controlled. I set a goal: I would be debt-free by 30. I’m proud to say I reached it two years early.
That last $32,000? Gone in just eight months.
How did I do it? I cut my budget to the bone, living off less than a third of my monthly salary. Packing lunches, skipping Ubers—tiny choices that added up. I asked for raises at work and got them. I worked multiple jobs: my day job, dog walking until my feet bled, babysitting, cat sitting, and even 24-hour overnight TV extra shifts. (I got to be on SVU, so that one’s a win.) My food budget was stripped down to salads, eggs, chicken, and rice, because I had to survive on my terms, not my family’s generosity.
I said “no” more than I thought possible—no to social outings, no to vacations, no to moments I might have cherished with friends and family. Halfway through, I even used my savings, figuring if all hell broke loose, I’d rather pay myself back than Navient. I followed the “snowball” method, tackling smaller loans first to avoid insane interest rates, which is how my $75K debt grew to $102K before I finally crushed it.
Was it easy? Absolutely not. Was it worth it? I’m smiling in the cemetery of my student loans—102K lifted from my back. You tell me.
I know many people might read my story and say, “If she did it, so can you.” Honestly, I don’t think everyone can. Jobs, health, family responsibilities—life complicates things, and the system is rigged in ways only those trapped inside truly understand. Student debt shouldn’t be a game, yet it often feels like one. But my hope is that my story sparks something—whatever “something” that looks like in your life. Maybe it’s finally taking control and paying off your debt if you can. Maybe it’s demanding policy changes that make the system fairer. Any action counts.
For me, being open about my debt, the hurdles, and the relentless grind is part of how I try to help others. But after six long years, it’s time to celebrate. I have my life back. I changed my life. I changed the future for my family. I ended the cycle of “paying just for wanting a better future.” For being a “have not.”
Well, not anymore. It’s all mine now. I’m free.”
