I’m generally not ashamed to talk about personal matters. In fact, I’m known for oversharing. At parties, I’m always good for a few cringey anecdotes plucked from my lackluster dating life. As a writer, I’ve never shied away from sharing the vulnerable, sometimes ugly, side of my evolving relationship with self-worth. Even my earliest report cards mention my garrulous nature: “Jamie Feldman: Talks too much.”
But there’s one topic that I’ve kept quiet for as long as I could remember: money—or in recent years, the lack of it.
I’ve maintained a fluctuating level of credit-card debt for over a decade. At its highest, it hovered around $18,000. From that first moment
