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Radhika Sanghani, The Independent
“I used to compare prices obsessively,” says Annie Robinson, 39, reflecting on her past. “Money was just for survival and rent. If friends asked me to go to a live music show, I’d say no because I feared I’d need money in the future and wouldn’t have enough. If I was out at dinner in a restaurant that felt expensive, I wouldn’t order a main — I’d just get a starter. No massages or new clothes, but just paying my bills. When I was in that headspace, self-care meant surviving the day.”
While to people on a tight budget, those measures may sound standard, Robinson was earning good money at the time and could easily have afforded to spend it on any of those things — but she deliberately deprived herself from doing so. In her teens and twenties, she had long periods of her life where she’d save money obsessively, underspend on things that brought her joy, and deny herself financial pleasures — regardless of how much money she had in her bank account.
In other words, Robinson — who now works as a wellness coach and helps other people free themselves from similar restrictive patterns – had “financial anorexia”, a term used to describe those who are self-denying in their attitude to money. They have an unhealthy obsession with saving money, and reduce their spending to the point where it negatively impacts their wellbeing.
Vicky Reynal, author of Money On Your Mind: The Psychology Behind Your Financial Habits, explains: “Like the person struggling with the mental health disorder of anorexia nervosa, who denies themselves food in an effort to keep their body weight to its lowest, the ‘money anorexic’ denies themselves the ‘good’ things that money allows us to have.” She stresses that financial anorexia is very different from simply budgeting or saving money, because while those habits are considered and balanced, underspending comes from “an irrational, emotional place” and “restricts our enjoyment unnecessarily”. That’s what happened to Robinson. She struggled with an eating disorder as a teenager, and found that the same patterns played out in her relationship with money. “There was something about me being restrictive with a resource. I let my anxiety manifest with food and money. I’d obsess about prices; my brain did the same calculations with money that it did with calories.
“My brain was trying to soothe itself at a time when my life felt out of control. Food and finances are things we make choices around every day, so I’d use them to try to cope with my emotions. At times, my life got very small. I felt like I was stuck in a prison inside of myself.” She’s not alone. Although there is no data on financial anorexia, as the term is so new, financial planner Holly Donaldson believes it is becoming more and more common due to the volatility of the financial markets in the past year. “Any time more uncertainty is introduced into someone’s world, this will trigger more people to restrict themselves, some of them unnecessarily,” she explains, pointing out that people might do this for different reasons, but what they all have in common is “unnecessary restraint of spending behaviour to the point of deprivation”.
Priya, 35, (not real name), identifies as a financial anorexic. She grew up watching this behaviour in her parents, who came to the UK in 1972 after leaving behind their homes and possessions in Uganda, after dictator Idi Amin expelled all Asians from the country. “My parents hoard money and save obsessively out of fear, and I’ve done this my whole life too. Even when I earn good money, I still take the bus instead of the tube, and bring hot drinks in my thermos instead of buying flat whites. It’s like I’m scared of spending money.”
She now earns £75,000 a year, and has six-figure savings (always in fixed savings accounts; she never invests in the stock market due to her fears), but she still has an attitude of deprivation and scarcity. “It’s really hard. I wish I could be more relaxed like my friends, but I’m constantly worrying that something will happen in the future, and I’ll need this money to survive. It impacts my mental health because I’m always anxious, and yet I feel bad spending money on therapy, or even on going out for dinners and to the theatre. I don’t let myself enjoy anything — it’s ruining my life.”
In the last year, things got so bad that Priya finally sought therapy for her financial anorexia. Her therapist advised her to document exactly how much money she has and what she earns each month, seeking clarity rather than vagueness, as well as giving herself an ideal amount to spend each month, something Donaldson calls setting aside a safe amount of “frivolous spending” to spend by a certain date.
“It’s helped,” says Priya. “As an overachiever, I now try to make sure I spend the exact amount I’ve set out each month, and in all different categories from self-care to entertainment and socialising. I do sometimes still feel panic if I have a lot of extra expenses in one month, but then I look at my spreadsheets and remind myself I can afford it.” Reynal works with many clients who have underspending habits, and she’s found it can develop for many different reasons, ranging from not feeling deserving of good things, to taking pride in deprivation, an obsession with control, or even wealth shame and survivor’s guilt. “If you think you are an ‘underspender’, then the first step is to understand if your struggle is a general difficulty letting go of money (which could very well be linked to greed and anxiety, or fears about not having enough money). If those don’t resonate, then ask yourself which things/people/events it feels easier to spend on and which feel more problematic and guilt-inducing. That will already give you a clue about whether you are ‘classifying’ expenses in your mind and what that might mean.”
She also encourages people to think about how they feel when depriving themselves — is it pride or shame? It’s this work that allows them to understand exactly what their financial anorexia looks like — and how to free themselves from it.
For Robinson, financial anorexia — like her eating disorder — ebbed and flowed throughout her life. She grew up in a privileged middle-class family, and had phases of financial anorexia as a teen, but it wasn’t until her family had a huge financial fall in her twenties that things got worse. With the help of therapy — and becoming a mother — she finally moved away from her scarcity mindset and is now free from financial anorexia, but the journey wasn’t linear.
