“The Pain Zone”: The Crucial Distance from Where You Are to Where You Want to Be
Let’s go on a visualization journey together, shall we?
I want you to imagine the “you” that you are today, financially – and brownie points for this exercise if you’re currently unsatisfied with your financial standing. Maybe you’re living inexplicably paycheck to paycheck, or maybe you’re in a lot of consumer debt and can’t get your head above water. Whatever it is, I want you to imagine that version of you.
Now, I want you to imagine the version of you that is not living paycheck to paycheck, is not in a load of debt, and is successfully living your financial life proactively, rather than reactively. Imagine that version of you.
Now imagine them like two endpoints on a timeline:
(you’re here) ————————— (and you want to be here!)
That distance in the middle? That’s the Pain Zone.
I talk to folks all the time who are (a) in consumer debt, (b) living paycheck-to-paycheck despite great incomes, and (c) totally lost about how to get out of it.
The problem, most of the time, is that they’re interested in attaining a different outcome – but they’re not willing to change their behavior.
Now, sometimes people are in bad situations not because of their direct behavior – and there are almost too many scenarios of that nature to recount here. I’m not talking about those types of situations. I’m talking about, “I make good money but I don’t know where it all goes and I can’t seem to get my head above water.” I’m not talking about, “I’m in medical debt because of something out of my control and wage stagnation is crushing me.”
Being able to identify when there’s a systemic or structural issue blocking your path vs. you blocking your own path is necessary in discussions like these, so please know that this post is directed toward those who feel they’re blocking their own paths.
Whether subconsciously or not, a short-term interruption in their current lifestyle is not something they’re willing to accommodate, even if it means going from the paycheck-to-paycheck, stuck-in-the-debt-mud bullshit to total and complete freedom. As humans, we have a way of being short-sighted sometimes.
I can see why: If you’re currently living the lifestyle you want (expensive place, nice leased car, fancy dinners out every week, hair appointments every 8 weeks), it can feel like a big, fat drag when someone taps you on the shoulder and reminds you, “Hey, you actually can’t afford this stuff.”
This blog post applies a relatively harsh methodology called “the Pain Zone” to the problem: Because sometimes, when we’re too soft and gentle with ourselves, we end up inadvertently putting ourselves in a worse position. We’re going to embrace tough love today, but know that it’s the same tough love I showed myself a few years ago when I realized my spending was way out of line.
I saw this a lot when I used to live in Dallas: I had a lot of friends and acquaintances who were living as though they made a lot more money than they did.
It’s the rat race we’re all familiar with – and in hushed tones at fancy dinners out or after $35 workout classes, someone would tell me that they were in a ton of credit card debt, had no idea how they were going to pay their bills that month, or that they were stressed about their financial situation (then they’d leave said $35 workout class in a lululemon outfit, Gucci slides, and hop into a brand new BMW to drive to brunch at Nobu).
Put simply: Sometimes our behavior doesn’t really support our goals or what we actually want because we’re trapped in a cycle.
It feels like it’ll require a permanent shift in lifestyle to fix the problem, and that feels painful and shitty – so it’s easier (albeit unsustainable) to carry on in the status quo, because at least that doesn’t require deprivation.
I’d like to propose another way to think about it:
Fixing your financial shit: A short (but satisfying) visit to “the Pain Zone”
This already sounds like I’m introducing a new special on whatever channel airs WWE wrestling. I’m experiencing regret.
But here’s the thing: It’s impossible to get out of “reactivity” mode without changing your behavior. The only strategy that enables you to continue living the way you have been is finding a higher paying job, but even that’s a slippery slope (because #lifestylecreep).
Living paycheck-to-paycheck (or being in a lot of consumer debt) typically has a way of blurring our vision for the future: As Ramit says, it’s like driving in a blizzard where you can only see 50 feet ahead. It’s often difficult to imagine a future beyond that 50-foot view. We have to find a way to stop the snow.
So when faced with the tough behavioral decisions, the path of least resistance is usually to do nothing – resume business as usual, go deeper into debt or continue merely treading water, and waste more time that your money could be compounding in the market instead, right? Even typing that sentence felt bleak.
Rather than thinking about it like a permanent lifestyle shift, think about it like a short stint of financial triage.
The Pain Zone is all about having the right mindset. Let’s start with the intended outcomes of a successful visit to the Pain Zone, so you can understand why we’re doing what we’re doing:
You realize (after stripping away all extraneous spending) that your life satisfaction didn’t really go down.
You hone more clearly which of your luxury expenses you actually miss.
You gain respect for your ability to deny yourself pleasures in the moment.
You feel financially in control for the first time in recent memory.
Let’s begin:
Short-term crash dieting doesn’t work – but short-term crash budgeting might
Depending on how much debt you’re in, this “Pain Zone” probably only needs to last a few months.
Technically speaking, it’s the length of time between (a) the start of your crash budget and (b) the credit card statement closing on the crash budget’s first month of spending.
Why?
Because typically, you need to wait for your credit card statements to catch up with you. If I start cutting back seriously in January, that’s great – but the credit card bill that comes due in January will likely be from late November/early December spending. There’s a six-week lag time to muscle through before you’ll see your new habits reflected on a statement.
I have a theory that it usually goes a little bit like this:
Person decides they’re ready to get their shit together
For a couple weeks, they cut back on going out to eat, delete their Amazon bookmark, and otherwise feel emotions of deprivation
Credit card bill from two months ago comes due, it’s still high as f***, and they’re overcome with the emotion of, “What’s the point?”
Cycle resumes
Anticipate that lag time. The Pain Zone is going to feel uncomfortable, because you’re trying to reintroduce wiggle room into a financial life that previously didn’t have any.
Now, the Pain Zone is not the place to be kind, forgiving, and lenient – the Pain Zone is the place to prioritize self-discipline, apply tough love, and respect yourself financially. A place to really show up as the person you want to become.
Remember: This isn’t forever. This is financial P90X, in both intensity and timeline. Before we can start making proactive steps toward growing your wealth, we have to stop the bleeding.
The Pain Zone is the place where we stop the bleeding.
A playbook for the Pain Zone
Mindset: Jillian Michaels
I’m all for self-love and self-care and self-obsession and whatever else Gwyneth Paltrow is selling on Goop.com these days, but the Pain Zone is not the place to care for your innermost flower. The Pain Zone is the place where you forge yourself in fire.
I use this tactic with myself whenever I’m being whiny, and it’s helped me hone my ability to discern between, “Oh, shit, I’m on the edge of burnout and I need to turn it down a notch,” and, “I’m just being self-indulgent and lazy and I need a reality check about how good I have it.”
The tactic?
Speaking to yourself like you’re none other than the problematic Jillian Michaels training The Biggest Loser contestants. (I know, okay? I already acknowledged it’s problematic. But do you want to feel warm and fuzzy, or do you want to get results?)
I will literally say to myself out loud, “Don’t be a little bitch. You’re fine. Figure it out. Nobody feels sorry for you.”
In a culture where self-care is packaged and sold more like self-soothing, it makes sense why we’ve all lost this edge a little bit. Sometimes the ability to show yourself tough love is the greatest gift you can give. Sometimes acknowledging that your utmost priority in life doesn’t have to be your own comfort and convenience can go a long, long way.
This is the attitude you take into the Pain Zone. You’re taking no prisoners. You’re not negotiating with terrorists. other military analogies
I cannot stress enough how important this step is. You are not a delicate flower. You’re a competent adult, and you’re capable of foregoing life’s luxuries for six weeks to make a permanent positive impact on your life. Sometimes truly taking care of yourself is ripping off the Bandaid and getting comfortable with being uncomfortable for a little while.
Spending approach: Bare bones
That’s right – you’re going full bare bones for 60 to 90 days.
Hair and nail appointments? Cancel them. Boozy brunch? Not on your watch! Remember, it’s not permanent – we just need to buy enough time to break the cycle of continuously piling the debt higher and give ourselves some reassessment breathing room.
And you know what? I think there are two levels here:
Level 1: High structural expenses
Put simply, are you paying for rent you can’t afford or a car that’s out of your depth? Do this with me:
What’s your net income every month? In other words what are you bringing in?
Now, what’s 28% of that number?
Let’s say I make $3,000 per month (this was me, when I lived in Dallas).
28% of $3,000 is $840. That’s my ‘ideal’ rent payment, given my income.
My rent ranged from $871 to $897 when I lived in Dallas. How? I always lived with roommates, and I didn’t live in the fanciest building in the hottest neighborhood. I lived in older complexes in Victory Park and right off Henderson Avenue, and negotiated my rental rate each time. And you know what? I suck at negotiating. I mostly just found specials and locked them in.
I lived relatively modestly, and it paid off. (I’m not trying to be the 1990s appliances martyr – just making the point that I knew I couldn’t afford much more than that, and I learned to like it.)
If the cost of the roof over your head is much more than 28% of your net income, I’d take a long, hard look at it and ask myself:
“Is this worth sacrificing my future for?”
It sounds harsh, but it’s true. Housing that eats up too much of your net income is insidious, and it’s nearly impossible to “frugal” your way out of it. (Here’s a post specifically about finding affordable rent.)
This is another area where tough love matters: Before you immediately start generating explanations (“Housing is expensive where I live!”), ask yourself: Do you need to live there? Could you move to a slightly different neighborhood, get roommates, or explore other options?
The same goes for the car. Leasing a Mercedes on $55,000 per year? It’s likely that the monthly payment is going to spread you thinner than necessary. (Here’s a post about the drain an expensive car can have on your net worth.)
I’m not saying you need to move and sell your car, but… you might need to move and sell your car if you want to create lasting change.
These aren’t necessarily things you’ll be able to do in the six weeks you spend in the Pain Zone, but it’s helpful to start getting real with yourself about whether or not you’re living above your means in these fundamentally structural expense areas – even 2-3 months in the Pain Zone with discretionary spending won’t much matter if your rent costs 50% of your take-home pay.
You’ll be treading water from your luxury apartment’s plunge pool forever, and that’s about the least luxurious thing I can imagine.
And if you need help with kickstarting tracking some of this stuff during your time in the Pain Zone, I recommend Copilot – it’s the most user-friendly spending tracker I’ve ever used (by far), and the one that actually clicked for all of my less-than-enthusiastic-about-budgeting friends. It’s available for iOS devices in the U.S. – you can check it out here (and the code KATIE2 will double the free trial length).
Level 2: High discretionary spending
Blowing $1,000 per week at Whole Foods but using Uber Eats for lunch every day? I’m looking at you!
This is the arena that’s way easier to win in during your Tour de Pain Zone, because your day-to-day behavior has a direct influence on it. Remember: Spending approach is Amish, not Kardashian.
We’re in financial triage mode. It’s not forever.
It doesn’t have to be sustainable in nature, because it’s not designed to be. It’s just designed to allow you to get your arms around the bills coming in and start to make progress forward. To create some positive momentum.
Again, it’ll be difficult to see a ton of headway with cutting discretionary spending alone if your structural expenses are obscenely high, but typically, someone who’s living in the nicest apartment in town and driving a leased luxury car isn’t foregoing luxuries elsewhere.
Cutting back to any extent during this time in the Pain Zone will be helpful, but cutting back ruthlessly works best.
Half-assing it will leave you underwhelmed. The goal is to experience what it feels like to have money left over at the end of the month. Until you feel that (and how much better it is than what the money could buy), you’ll be swimming upstream.
Copilot can help with assessing these discretionary purchases, too, because it pulls in the last six months of data for any accounts you link – which means you’ll be able to look back and compare your previous spending with your Pain Zone spending.
You may even be surprised at what you find after ruthlessly cutting back:
Sometimes forcing yourself into an intensely simple way of life has unexpected positive outcomes. To quote Seneca:
“Set aside a certain number of days, during which you shall be content with the scantiest and cheapest fare, with course and rough dress, saying to yourself the while: 'Is this the condition that I feared?”
All right, Tim Ferriss, that’s enough. #RichGirl translation: “Wow, I haven’t had bottomless mimosas or new Align leggings in two months and my life… isn’t any worse?”
The modern luxuries we love are just that – luxuries. To trick ourselves into believing we need them to be happy is good for nobody but those who stand to profit off the decisions.
Life after the Pain Zone
So I’ve (repetitively) reminded you throughout this article that the Pain Zone is a temporary stop on your journey, not the destination.
What do you do after the Pain Zone?
Allow me to outline the expected positive outcomes:
You realize (after stripping away all extraneous spending) that your life satisfaction didn’t really go down. In fact, maybe you discovered cheap (or free) activities that brought you even more joy (spending more time in nature, hanging out with your parents for free food at first but later for their actual company, exercising, getting to know the inside of Netflix’s new releases more intimately, sleeping more, etc.). For me, personally, my visit to the Pain Zone was actually a really nice experience because it simplified my life – expensive habits often beget more expensive habits, and they typically require maintenance and juggling (fancy car means fancy car washes, nail and lash appointments mean stringent refill schedules, etc.).
You hone more clearly which of your luxury expenses you actually miss. For me, I didn’t miss manicures. I actually found it was much less stressful to have naked nails, because I wasn’t squeezing gel nail appointments into an already-busy schedule. I also didn’t miss expensive dinners out. I realized that I actually enjoyed eating at home (shocking) and felt better, too, without as much restaurant food in my diet.
You gain respect for your ability to deny yourself pleasures in the moment. There’s something to be said (psychologically) for believing you’re a disciplined person, but in order to believe that about yourself, you have to exercise personal discipline. There’s no better place to impress yourself than the Pain Zone.
You feel financially in control for the first time in recent memory. Your credit card bill doesn’t make you cringe. Maybe you begin to enjoy the feeling of not looking at bills through squinted eyes more than you enjoy the expensive luxuries that lead to squinty-eye bills.
In summary, sustainable change that feels good has its time and place – but take-no-bullshit, rip-the-Bandaid-off discipline does, too. Being too gentle with yourself may inadvertently imply a self-defeating “truth”:
That you’re not capable of making serious change or denying yourself all of life’s luxuries, even when you simply can’t afford them yet.
Sustainable financial change is the marathon. The Pain Zone is the sprint off the couch. You have to start somewhere, right?
Disclaimer
I reached out to Copilot and asked them if they’d be willing to sponsor this post. They had no input on the content in this post.
