Financial Literacy
And perhaps before we dive into numbers, interest rates, and strategies, we should ask ourselves the most fundamental question: What is money? Not the money we hold in our hands, nor the numbers that appear in our bank accounts, but the idea behind it. The power we have chosen to give it.
Money is, at its core, nothing more than a mutually accepted language of exchange—a symbol of value that humanity collectively agreed to believe in. Once it was shells, then gold, and today it is little more than numbers stored in digital systems. Yet somehow, it has come to dominate our lives, our relationships, our dreams, and even our self-worth.
But what if we have given it too much power?
What if we have stopped seeing money as a tool and started treating it as proof of whether we are successful, worthy of love, or even worthy as human beings?
The truth is, we do not need wealth to be whole.
We do not need executive-level salaries to deserve peace.
We do not need designer shoes to have a place in this world.
The true value of our lives is not measured by the number of zeros in our bank account, but by what we are capable of feeling, creating, giving, and experiencing—even in simplicity.
Money is often overrated.
The world constantly convinces us that without it, we are nothing. But that is a lie.
The most valuable things in life can never be bought: a sincere embrace, the safety of home, genuine laughter, or the feeling that we truly belong somewhere. These moments can exist in a small apartment with a cheap cup of coffee just as easily as in a luxurious villa, as long as we are sharing them with someone who truly understands us.
We should not torment ourselves because we cannot afford luxury, expensive holidays, or the latest trends.
Our peace.
Our happiness.
Our sense of worth.
None of these depends on wealth.
They can grow even in the simplest circumstances.
The important thing is that money never becomes our master.
That we do not postpone living until the day we finally "have enough."
Because life does not begin when we can afford it.
Life is happening now.
Let us learn to see money once again for what it truly is—a tool, not a mirror reflecting our worth.
We do not have to be rich to be enough.
It is enough to understand what we truly need, to understand ourselves, and to realize that living with less is not something to be ashamed of.
Sometimes, it is simply another lesson in humility, courage, and inner strength.
For many people, debt has become a normal part of life.
A mortgage, a car loan, a personal loan, a credit card—we live in a world where borrowed money is often considered perfectly normal. And sometimes it is. If a person understands what they are doing. If they have a plan, a financial cushion, know how to read the fine print, and understand the difference between good debt and bad debt.
But what happens when there is no plan?
What if every month you barely manage to make your loan payments, nothing is left over, and a broken washing machine or the loss of your job is enough to make your entire financial world collapse like a house of cards?
That is when we discover just how fragile our financial system really is.
In situations like these, financial literacy means recognizing the moment when something can still be saved. It is like fighting a forest fire—you do not try to extinguish it with a single glass of water. Instead, you first look at the direction of the wind.
You examine your income.
You examine your expenses.
You search for unnecessary leaks—subscriptions you never use, expensive coffee every morning, services you no longer need.
But the greatest problem is often not found in our expenses.
It is hidden in our relationship with money.
Somewhere between our first piggy bank and our first paycheck, we learned how to save.
But nobody taught us how to wait.
We learned how to count coins, but not how to weigh our needs.
We were told that "those who save will always have enough," yet almost nobody ever told us one of the most liberating sentences a financially exhausted person can hear:
"I can't afford it." is not a confession of failure. It is wisdom.
We live in a culture of instant gratification, where everything has to happen immediately, and where saying "I can't" is often seen as personal failure.
Social media is filled with perfect people living perfect lives, travelling to perfect places, driving perfect cars and living in perfect homes.
What we rarely see are their bank statements.
Their unpaid bills.
Their sleepless nights.
Their anxiety.
The illusion of abundance has become the new normal, and anyone who cannot keep up often feels as though they are somehow worth less.
Psychologists have repeatedly shown that the ability to delay gratification is one of the most important life skills a person can develop.
The famous Marshmallow Experiment demonstrated exactly this. Children were offered one marshmallow immediately or two if they were willing to wait. Years later, many of those who managed to wait were found to have better emotional stability, greater financial responsibility, and higher levels of success in adulthood.
But who actually taught us how to wait?
Who taught us that "not now" can sometimes be far more valuable than "right now"?
Economists such as Thomas Sowell and Daniel Kahneman have often pointed out that financial decisions are rarely based purely on mathematics.
They are driven by emotions.
By our relationship with risk.
By our fear of missing out.
By our desire for certainty.
Kahneman described this through behavioral economics—the study of how people actually make decisions rather than how they are expected to make them.
Very often, we do not spend because we truly need something.
We spend because, for a brief moment, spending gives us the illusion that we are back in control.
And this is where so many financial problems begin.
We buy things because we hope they will make us feel worthy.
We spend money because we are trying to silence emotional pain.
We convince ourselves that we deserve another purchase simply because we are exhausted.
But shame itself is a lie.
It is a distorted mirror that never shows us who we really are.
Admitting that you cannot afford something today is not weakness.
It is strength.
It is one of the clearest expressions of personal responsibility.
It is healthy self-respect.
It is the decision of someone who understands that their value is not measured by what they own, but by the promises they are able to keep to themselves.
"I can't afford it" does not mean, I am worth less. It means, I know what truly matters to me right now. It means, I have a plan. It means, I am strong enough to resist the pressure of the world around me. It means, I am learning to say "no" to the world so that one day I can say "yes" to myself.
At the same time, the society we live in rarely teaches us to say these words with confidence.
Banks offer "attractive" loans even to people who are already struggling to repay the ones they have. Advertisements place desire above common sense. Schools teach calculus, but not how interest really works. They teach us how to write a résumé, but not how to say "no" to friends who pressure us into spending money we simply do not have.
The financial world wants to keep us trapped in a cycle of desire—buy, repay, worry, buy again.
True freedom begins when desire is replaced by awareness.
That awareness says:
I refuse to buy things I do not need just to impress people who probably will not even notice.
There is a saying that is often shared across the internet, usually ending with the words:
"...to impress people I don't even like."
Whether or not we agree with that ending, the message remains powerful.
It is time to start talking about money differently.
Not as a god.
But as a tool.
Not as the measure of a person's worth.
But as something that should serve us—not something we should spend our lives serving.
It is time to free ourselves from the quiet shame that whispers:
"By now, you should already have a house."
"You should already own a new car."
"You should already have..."
No.
What we should have is peace.
We should have a plan.
We should have the courage to tell the world:
"Not now."
And perhaps one day...
"Yes."
And if that day never comes, we can still be completely okay.
Because wisdom is never measured by the number of things we own.
It is measured by the number of things we no longer need in order to feel whole.
"Saying, 'I can't afford it,' is not admitting defeat. It is a declaration of wisdom. It is proof that I am stronger than my desires and more patient than the pressure of the world."
– JK
What If I Have Massive Debt?
There are people for whom the words "I owe money" do not mean being a few hundred euros short.
They mean thousands.
Tens of thousands.
Unpaid loans.
Usurious interest rates.
Paychecks lost to gambling.
Missed deadlines.
Court judgments.
Enforcement proceedings.
Broken relationships.
Suspicious looks from the people around them.
They mean silence at the dinner table when someone asks,
"So... how are things at work? How are you doing financially?"
They mean pathological gamblers.
People burdened with debt after the death of their parents because they inherited liabilities or signed as guarantors.
Young people who simply wanted to "enjoy life a little" but ended up trapped in the endless cycle of buy-now-pay-later schemes.
For them, financial literacy is not a lesson learned in school.
It is a fight to reclaim their identity.
A fight to regain their dignity.
We often assume that a person drowning in debt is irresponsible.
But very few people become heavily indebted because they truly want to.
Behind overwhelming debt there is often trauma.
Escape.
A loss of control.
Gambling, for example, is rarely only about winning money.
It is about trying to regain a sense of power that has been lost somewhere else in life.
And when we lose, we desperately try to win it back.
Again.
And again.
Until, eventually, all that remains of us is a registration number in a debtors' database.
If you are reading these words and you recognize yourself in them...
You are not alone.
And you are not beyond saving.
Whether you are living paycheck to paycheck or buried beneath overwhelming debt, both groups share one essential need:
A plan.
Not a miracle.
Not another loan taken out to repay the previous loan.
But an honest, painful, realistic plan that begins with one simple truth:
How much do I actually owe?
To whom?
And what can I realistically do about it?
The foundation of financial literacy is not mathematics.
It is courage.
The courage to open every envelope.
To face every bill.
To write down every debt.
To sit quietly with a piece of paper and create a realistic monthly budget.
How much money comes in?
How much goes out?
What can I sacrifice?
Which debts must be paid first?
A good recovery plan includes several basic steps:
- List every debt. Write down every obligation, including interest rates, penalties, and creditors.
- Stop the leaks. Eliminate every expense that is not essential for survival—without excuses.
- Seek professional help. Reach out to financial counselling organizations, debt advisory services, or professionals who specialize in debt relief. There is no shame in asking for guidance.
- Do not create new debt. Credit cards, payday loans, and installment purchases are simply new holes in a boat that is already sinking.
- Look for additional income. Even a small side income can gradually change your situation. Part of it should go toward building an emergency fund, and part toward reducing debt.
- Start building a small financial reserve. Even if it seems impossible, setting aside just €5 or €10 each month is more than saving money—it is rebuilding trust in yourself. And that feeling is worth far more than any jackpot ever could.
Do You Pay Off One Loan Only to Take Out Another?
Does this sound familiar?
You finally finish paying for your washing machine—and almost immediately you buy something else on credit.
For many people, this has become a normal way of life.
The moment one loan is paid off, another one takes its place.
As if monthly installments were simply the price of living a "normal" life.
After all, who doesn't have a loan these days?
But the truth is far more uncomfortable.
Living from one monthly payment to the next is not really living.
It means living under constant pressure.
It means owning things that do not bring you peace, but only more obligations.
A loan, by itself, is not evil.
It is a tool.
And like any tool, its value depends entirely on how it is used.
A mortgage with a reasonable interest rate, taken to secure a home with a long-term financial plan, can become an investment in stability and security.
A business loan can help build a career or create opportunities.
But when we borrow money for Christmas presents, holidays, or the newest smartphone, we should pause and ask ourselves a simple question:
Why?
As economics professor Daniela Piršelová once said:
"A consumer loan is a modern euphemism for financing today's pleasures with tomorrow's income."
In other words, we are spending money we have not yet earned.
And sooner or later, the bill always arrives.
The reason advertisements constantly convince us that we "deserve" to buy something immediately is simple:
Our brains love instant gratification.
Psychologists describe this as hyperbolic discounting—our tendency to value immediate rewards much more than future benefits.
That is why many people buy a washing machine on credit because they "need it now," even though, by saving a little each week, they could have paid for it in cash just a few months later without paying extra interest.
This is where one of the most important skills of financial literacy begins:
The ability to plan ahead and build a financial reserve.
Whenever we buy a washing machine, a mobile phone, or any other product on credit, we should understand its real price.
Consumer loans often carry interest rates between 8% and 15%.
Credit cards, catalogue financing, and even "interest-free installment plans" frequently include hidden fees that can push the actual cost much higher.
This means that borrowing €1,000 may ultimately cost you €1,200, €1,300—or even more.
And if payments are missed, penalty fees, late-payment interest, legal costs, and enforcement fees can make the final amount dramatically higher.
Perhaps the saddest part is that many people never realize that their €50 monthly payment is not an investment.
It is an exchange.
An exchange of future freedom for temporary satisfaction today.
Let's say this openly:
Buying Christmas presents on credit rarely makes financial sense.
The excitement of opening those gifts lasts only a few minutes.
The repayments may last for many months afterward.
There is absolutely no shame in celebrating a simpler Christmas.
A handmade gift.
Time spent together.
A shared experience.
Or simply having the courage to say:
"This year I can't afford more, but next year I'll prepare better."
The same applies to holidays.
Vacations are wonderful.
But returning from a beautiful beach only to spend the next year paying for it is not true relaxation.
It is simply postponing stress.
Real rest does not depend on the price of an airline ticket.
It can be found beside a lake.
In the mountains.
In a forest.
Or even at home.
The latest iPhone.
A new Samsung.
A bigger television.
Why do we feel the need to prove that we can afford these things—even when we actually cannot?
Some psychologists describe this as consumer narcissism—the tendency to measure our own value by the things we own.
But if our self-worth depends on what sits in our pocket, perhaps we have lost sight of what truly matters.
And what about that washing machine?
Someone might argue that it is a necessity.
And they would be right.
Some household appliances are essential.
Which is precisely why building an emergency fund matters.
Setting aside just €50–80 each month can create a reserve of €300–480 within half a year.
If you never need to use it, even better.
You gain something far more valuable than money.
You gain peace of mind.
An emergency fund means freedom.
It means that a broken appliance, the loss of a job, or an unexpected expense will not immediately throw your life into chaos.
It means you can confidently say "no" when someone offers you another "great financing deal."
It means that you are in control, instead of your money controlling you.
Financial literacy is not about being cheap.
It is about being wise.
It means knowing when to spend, how much to spend, and whether you should spend at all.
Most importantly, it means learning to say "no"—even to yourself.
That is why it is so difficult.
Because the real battle is not with numbers.
It is with our own desires.
Our emotional wounds.
Our tendency to compare ourselves with others.
It is the battle against that quiet voice inside our heads whispering:
"Go ahead—you deserve it."
But the truth is different.
What we truly deserve is not the newest iPhone.
Not a luxury holiday by the sea.
What we deserve is peace.
We deserve freedom.
We deserve to sleep through the night without wondering whether tomorrow a debt collector will knock on our door.
What If I Have Nothing Left?
It sounds harsh.
But for many people, this is reality every single morning.
Being broke is not just about having an empty wallet or a negative bank balance.
It is a feeling of guilt.
Desperation.
Hopelessness.
It is the moment when you no longer remember exactly how many people you owe money to—you only know that you no longer want to open your mailbox because you're afraid of what might be waiting inside.
You are broke.
And it feels as though your entire life has fallen apart into monthly installments that you simply cannot pay.
For people who are overwhelmed by debt, there is a legal option known as personal bankruptcy, or debt relief.
In Slovakia, this process is regulated by the Bankruptcy and Restructuring Act.
Under certain legal conditions, individuals who are genuinely unable to repay their debts may apply for debt relief.
Depending on their circumstances, this may happen through bankruptcy proceedings if they have little or no assets, or through a structured repayment plan if they do own property or have sufficient income.
At first glance, this may sound like an easy solution.
It is not.
Personal bankruptcy is not a magic wand.
It is a long, administratively demanding, and emotionally exhausting process.
It usually requires legal guidance, patience, and above all, the courage to face the consequences of past decisions.
But there is something even more important.
Personal bankruptcy can erase debt.
It cannot erase financial habits.
Many people who complete the process eventually find themselves in debt again.
Not because someone else harmed them.
But because they never changed their relationship with money.
Because they never dealt with the emotional reasons behind their financial decisions.
Addiction.
Trauma.
Pressure from others.
Learned helplessness.
Psychologists repeatedly point out that excessive debt is often about much more than mathematics.
It is closely connected to emotional stress, low self-esteem, anxiety, impulsive behaviour, and the need to prove our worth.
Sometimes it begins with childhood experiences:
"We never had anything, so now I want to have everything."
Other times it comes from social pressure:
"I don't want to be the only one who can't afford a holiday."
That is why genuine financial recovery must include psychological recovery as well.
Learning to develop a healthier relationship with money.
Building self-worth that is not measured by possessions.
Redefining the values upon which we build our lives.
And finally—education.
Financial literacy is not simply knowing what an interest rate is.
It is understanding how money, debt, consumption, and personal values all work together.
It is recognizing the difference between a need and a desire.
It is having the courage to stop and ask yourself:
"Do I really need this? Or am I trying to heal something that has nothing to do with this purchase?"
From an economic perspective, every euro has an opportunity cost.
This means that every euro you spend is a euro that can no longer be used for something else.
If I spend €100 on a new jacket, those are €100 that I can no longer use for food, housing, or building an emergency fund.
This is the principle of budget discipline.
It teaches us that if we cannot control our spending, even a higher income will not save us.
Because unhealthy financial habits usually grow together with our income.
The more we earn, the more we spend.
Not because we have to.
But because we never learned to manage what we already had.
So, where do we begin?
One of the simplest budgeting frameworks is known as the 50 / 30 / 20 rule.
It is easy to understand and flexible enough for most people.
50% – Essential Needs
Housing.
Food.
Transportation.
Utilities.
Basic hygiene.
Medication.
Everything necessary for everyday life belongs here.
If these expenses consume more than half of your income, it is worth looking for realistic ways to reduce them—whether by lowering housing costs, spending less on groceries, reducing energy consumption, or finding other practical savings.
30% – Personal Spending and Enjoyment
This category includes everything that is not essential but improves your quality of life.
Clothing.
Entertainment.
Restaurants.
Cinema.
Meeting friends.
Holidays.
Small pleasures.
However, if you are trapped in serious debt, this category may need to be reduced significantly—or even temporarily redirected toward debt repayment.
20% – Savings and Debt Repayment
This portion is dedicated to building financial security.
Emergency savings.
Debt repayments.
Long-term investments.
If your debts are overwhelming, part of your discretionary spending may also need to move into this category so that your financial recovery can happen faster.
If your income changes from month to month, or if you live paycheck to paycheck, another practical solution is the envelope method.
As soon as your salary arrives, divide the money into separate categories.
One envelope for food.
One for transportation.
One for your children.
One for leisure.
When an envelope is empty, you simply stop spending from that category until your next paycheck.
Its greatest advantage is that it creates clear boundaries.
People with several loans often choose one of two popular repayment strategies.
The first is the snowball method.
You begin by paying off the smallest debt first.
Once it disappears, you take the money that used to go toward that payment and roll it into the next smallest debt.
Each success builds confidence and motivation.
The second strategy is the avalanche method.
Instead of focusing on the smallest balance, you attack the debt with the highest interest rate first.
This usually saves more money over time because expensive interest stops accumulating sooner.
Neither approach is universally right or wrong.
The best strategy is the one you are able to follow consistently.
However, if you have reached the point where your income no longer covers even your basic living expenses...
If your debts continue to grow despite cutting your spending...
If you feel trapped...
Then it is time to seek professional help.
Speak with a financial counsellor.
A legal aid centre.
A debt advisory organisation.
Or another qualified professional.
At that point, pride becomes your greatest enemy.
Asking for help is no longer a sign of weakness.
It becomes the first real step toward freedom.
If you are broke, never forget this:
Your financial situation does not determine your value as a human being.
Money has no power to define who you are.
But you have the power to decide how you will relate to money from this moment forward.
Whether you spend your life chasing it...
Or learning to understand it.
Whether you continue living in fear...
Or choose to face the truth and begin again.
Perhaps from zero.
But this time with the understanding that peace of mind and personal dignity are worth far more than anything money can buy.
In Closing
At the end of all this, it is worth reminding ourselves of one simple truth:
Money is not the destination.
It is only a means.
The moment we allow money to define our worth, we begin to lose our freedom.
There is no shame in being poor.
The real tragedy is abandoning yourself.
Financial literacy does not begin in your wallet.
It begins in your heart.
It begins with the decision that you deserve more than merely surviving.
That you can become the author of your own story—even if you did not begin it under ideal circumstances.
If you are reading these words today and you feel as though you are living in the red—not only financially, but emotionally as well—I want you to know this:
There is a way forward.
It is not a short road.
Sometimes it is painful.
Sometimes it is exhausting.
But every single step back toward freedom matters.
And I want to show you that it is possible.
I am not an economist.
I am not a financial adviser.
I am not a professional expert.
I am simply someone who reached rock bottom and decided to create his own path back.
Perhaps my approach is not perfect.
Perhaps someone with spreadsheets, graphs, and economic theories could find weaknesses in it.
But it is real.
And for me...
It worked.
Thank you for reading all the way to the end.
Over the coming weeks—every Wednesday throughout June—we will return to this topic together.
We will explore it step by step, and I will share the practical ideas, habits, and ways of thinking that helped me climb out of financial ruin.
I will honestly tell you what worked.
And what did not.
Then, in July, we will move on to a different subject.
We will talk about rest.
About holidays.
About the importance of slowing down and restoring our strength.
Yet even there, finances will quietly find their way into the conversation, because relaxation also comes with choices—and those choices can be made wisely.
It will be a summer journey filled with peace, perspective, and awareness.
Stay with me.
But above all...
Stay with yourself.
Because if there is one thing I know with absolute certainty, it is this:
As long as you refuse to give up, you still have a chance to win.
Even if today you feel as though you have reached the very bottom.
– JK –