The American Staple That Almost Ruined My International Relationship
Also- I’m convinced this J. Crew shirt is flattering on literally no human. Sidebar over.
Hi, welcome to my date night. Pull up a chair! Grab a glass of wine! And step into my romantic… spreadsheet?
Yes, that’s right. This lovely, Portuguese cabernet (Quinta da Alorna) and I are cozying up to a computer screen displaying the raw evidence of my nasty, American habit that almost ruined my relationship.
My credit card.
Now, to take you back to the über fun beginnings of all this, you have to understand my deep, dark, and twisted past. And by deep, dark, and twisted I mean… completely normal American experience.
You see, back in college I was first introduced to the idea of establishing “credit.” So I got my beloved Discover card (loved by all, accepted by nobody) and purchased a few odd things every now and then, and promptly paid them off, to contribute to this mysterious “credit score” that would increase my chances of… getting a house someday? Having a lower interest rate for a loan? Wasting my time googling what the heck a credit score even is?
All of the above.
And when I graduated college, faced with $300 every month in student loan payments and the mounting cost of American health insurance, I felt safe knowing that this marvelous piece of plastic was in my wallet, “just in case.”
Well, “just in case” turned into “every now and then” because I got points on my credit card for every purchase! Guys! POINTS!
What do those points even do? Well, if you accrue enough, they’re supposed to lead you to magical holidays in the Bahamas. I never got to that level of point mastery. Pretty sure the most I ever got from points was $5 off of my balance.
So at this point, a few years into my 20s, I was using my credit card for the big purchases that seemed scary upfront (i.e. plane tickets, IKEA furniture, the occasional Amazon order) because I liked the idea of paying them off over time. It seemed safe. Sure, at some point there was interest involved, but I figured it was the price of keeping my savings account untouched, like a pristine, little angel. (Keep in mind, my savings account had about… $800 in it? #baller).
Fast forward a few years later, and enter my German boyfriend. As things got more serious with our relationship and we started planning trips together, I distinctly remember saying at one point that my credit card had good travel rewards, so that was how I should purchase my plane ticket for my trip to visit him in Portugal.
“Oh, really? I don’t think any of my credit cards have something like that.”
You know why? Because after about five minutes of back and forth as to what the word credit card even means, I understood that my boyfriend does indeed have a debit card or two. But he does not have a credit card. His wallet carries nothing resembling the good ol’ American debt-laden standard. In fact, most everyone in Germany does not have a credit card. Well, actually, they’ll tell you they do, but it is in fact a debit card. Confusing, I know. We all deserve a nice pilsener for understanding this much.
There’s even a saying in Germany that literally translates to “cash doesn’t stink” (Geld stinkt nicht). The potato-loving people have a thing for responsible purchases, and cash seems like a sturdy way to make transactions. So it’s often king in Germany.
Oh, where was I? Enchanting you with my financial details? Yes. So on one particularly beautiful spring day, said boyfriend and I were biking through the German countryside, discussing future travels, at which point I said, “You know, I think I need to stop for a minute and figure out my finances.”
To which he replied, “Ok, great. Let’s figure this out. You pay $300 each month in student loans, right?”
Points got me here.
not.
E: “Right. But then I also have my credit card payment.”
CUE SCREECHING BRAKES.
K: “… what credit card payment?”
E: “My credit card. The thing that allowed me to visit you in Thailand, while still paying rent on an apartment in Portugal, barely scraping by on a copywriters salary. That credit card.” (Can you sense the tension? ooo y’all it was thick.)
K: “How much do you pay in interest?”
E: “… I’m not really sure. Not much!”
K: “And you still have a savings account?”
E: “Yeah, duh!”
Honestly, I’ll spare you the details of what came next, but to keep your imagination running wild, I’ll just tell you that it involved some furious biking and a LOT of German ranting. In fact, one word was repeated several times (in German) and it starts with disa- and ends with -ppointed (enttäuscht auf Deutsch).
Because, as Kris sees it, a credit card is irresponsible. It’s foolish. And it’s so completely NOT German.
And you know what I realized as my face turned red, I started deflecting questions, and busily began biking faster?
He was right.
And I knew it immediately, based on my embarassed, defensive reaction.
Don’t mind me
Earning Points
Don’t get me wrong. There are many, many Americans using credit cards to establish good credit, and doing their due diligence to pay everything off promptly. Some of them are even using those aforementioned “points” to get gift cards and trips galore! But did you know that the average 28 year-old in America has $3,500 in credit card debt? When I discovered that, I was shocked. Not student loans, but credit card debt. Everyday things tossed on to a list for “later” rapidly accruing interest at a daunting rate.
And once I sat down with someone from the “other side” of the credit card world (luckily this guy is my boyfriend and he’s on my side), I started to get angry. Why was I brought up to believe in this thing? In all honesty, the very basis of a credit card is a giant test that most Americans (and humans!) are set up to fail. You’re raised in a society completely driven by consumer spending, and handed something laden with “points” and “perks” that rapidly multiply, depending on how much money you want to pretend to have.
And let me repeat again, there are many folks getting beautiful holidays out of their “points” and being upgraded to business class with their “miles” but this is not the average American experience. The average American is in debt. In the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, I learned that the average American can’t even afford an unexpected expense of $400.
So after one rather intense conversation in Danglish (Deutsch-English), Kris and I sat down with a glass of wine and got to work to ensure that I wouldn’t set myself up to be another “average” person in debt.
What was step one? Basically eliminating my savings account. Stoping all over my pride and joy, to offset the accruing interest on my credit card. Then, we crafted a table with all of my expenses, payments, and income and came up with a plan for a one way ticket to leave the land of “perks” and “points.”
And I can happily say that I’m now on track to have my Chase Sapphire credit card balance entirely eliminated by the end of June. In my perfect world, on July 1st I’d set fire to the thing and never touch it again, but it’s one of those annoying metal cards that they’ve made literally indestructible, so every time you look into your wallet you have to think about your life choices.
To be perfectly transparent, I don’t think it will be that simple. I’m trying to undo years of thinking that credit cards were “safe” and the “good choice” for travel expenses and flight tickets. Luckily, I now live in a country where credit scores aren’t judged by how well you navigate the gauntlet of debt, and nobody is impressed by the physical weight of your payment device. It’s a long (and expensive) road, but I’m sure happy that I’m on it now. I know some folks aren’t as lucky, and I know others are reading this in front of their Everest-sized savings accounts.
On top of this, the fact that this is happening NOW, when financial certainty seems elusive to many people, I hesitated to publish this. Because I get it. Credit cards definitely provide a safety net for people caught in a tight spot. But if you don’t pay your way out of that tight spot, you could soon be washing $60 down the drain every month (in interest), and pretending you can afford things that, let’s be honest, you just can’t. That may not be the American dream, but that was my American reality, and it’s about time I faced the music.
You know, finances are one thing that I’ve realized Americans are so weird about sharing. And good golly miss Molly, I WISH I would’ve had this conversation years ago in the states, instead of while cycling along the backroads of a German state whose name I can’t even pronounce (Mecklenberg Vorpommen). But at least it’s happened now. And I Emily Claire Hughes, am committing to being more financially responsible.
Because that $3,500 was money that I put onto an indestructible card, in a pretend world filled with princesses and points.
But now I’m back in reality.
And my date nights have never been better.
(Spreadsheets don’t lie, folks)
One sec, gotta check my spreadsheet