Ask Irene: Jingle-Bell-on-a-Budget

Irene, I love the holiday season, but money is super tight this year. My freelance work dried up after the election, and juggling two partners who each have their own holiday wishes is stressing me out. They’re both amazing people, but I’m freaking out about not being able to afford big gestures: pricey dinners, trips, or fancy gifts. How do I handle these conversations and still make the holidays meaningful when my bank account looks like a sad, empty stocking??

Jingle-Bell-on-a-Budget

Dear Jingle-Bell-on-a-Budget, Let’s just say it: This season isn’t as jolly as it used to be for a lot of folks. You’re not imagining that pinch. The economic uncertainty hanging in the air right now—this weird blend of post-election tension, under-employment in the gig economy, and endless hustle to catch up in an increasingly expensive world—makes it tough to feel secure enough to deck the halls, let alone lavish gifts and trips on multiple partners. And let’s also acknowledge that we live in a world where about half of Americans have revolving credit card debt, the national average of which is over $6,000.

When money’s tight, the first thing most of us want to do is hide under a metaphorical blanket of shame. “If only I’d landed that contract,” “If only I’d saved more,” etc. etc… It’s tempting to keep quiet, to pretend everything is fine while you quietly start putting everything on your credit card. But that silence creates a gap between what your partners think is possible and what you can sustainably offer. And that gap? It tends to swallow holiday magic whole.

It might feel a bit like stripping naked in a cold room, but honesty is your ally when it comes to money. Like any other kind shame, it needs to be exposed to the light. Pull your partners closer and let them in on the reality: “Look, work’s been slow. I’m not rolling in holiday cash right now, but I still want this season to feel meaningful with you.” That truth can sting when you say it out loud, but it’s also relieving. Suddenly, you’re not pretending. You’re not juggling a secret debt or dreading the travel costs for some idealized getaway that’s just not feasible this year.

Once that honesty is out there, you can collaborate instead of trying to fix this on your own. Maybe one partner cares more about experiences than gifts—great, a DIY holiday craft night with cheap cider and a cheesy Netflix special might be perfect. Another partner might say, “Hey, I don’t really need a gift—let’s spend a few hours together making playlists or cooking a meal from whatever’s in the fridge.” These moments can be surprisingly nourishing, and they cost next to nothing. You might find that your partners don’t need the spectacle. It’s the sincerity, the genuine presence, that counts. Here are some ideas you can play with and make your own:

  • A “Memory Jar”: Write down your favorite moments, inside jokes, or reasons you appreciate them on scraps of paper, fold them up, and put them in a cute jar. It’s basically a time capsule of warm fuzzies they can open whenever they need a pick-me-up.

  • A Handmade Collage or Zine: Gather small photos, concert ticket stubs, or silly doodles that remind you of your time together. A DIY mini-magazine or scrapbook that walks through shared memories can make them laugh and tear up at the same time.

  • A Themed “Experience Box” (at home): Can’t afford a trip to the mountains or the beach right now? Bring the vibe to your living room. Curate an evening’s worth of simple treats—playlists inspired by a place you’d love to go someday, a homemade spice mix that smells like a distant destination, or a list of movies set in a place you both dream about visiting. The key isn’t to pretend you’re actually on an expensive holiday; it’s to share the fantasy and excitement of future adventures without the price tag.

  • A Personalized Recipe Booklet: If one partner loves cooking, type up or handwrite a small collection of your favorite simple recipes, each with a note on why it reminds you of them. Throw in a pack of their go-to spices if you can swing it. It’s thoughtful, useful, and relatively low-cost.

  • A Handwritten Card with “Holiday Vouchers”: These could be coupons for a foot rub, a home-cooked brunch, or a long walk together after the holiday madness calms down. It’s not cheesy if it’s personal and sincere. Plus, offering your time and presence can mean so much more than a rushed store-bought gift.

This year might be the one that reframes what “abundance” really means for you. Without the pressure to buy pricey items or pull off Instagram-worthy holiday getaways, you may discover that simple gestures—a handwritten letter, a day spent volunteering together instead of shopping, a funny little handmade ornament—resonate more than you expected.

Your partners chose you because they value who you are, not because you’re a human ATM. If a relationship’s magic truly rests on lavish spending, that’s another conversation entirely. But odds are, these folks appreciate you for you. They might even be relieved to hear they’re not the only ones feeling the economic strain. You could all decide, “Let’s scale back. Let’s find joy in what we already have.”

As late stage capitalism does its number on us, re-imagining what love looks like under real life limitations can actually bring you closer. It can highlight that connection thrives in understanding and creativity—not just in currency. Sometimes, facing financial fear together lights a different kind of holiday glow: one that warms you with authenticity and resourcefulness, reminding everyone involved that the heart of the season can never be bought, only shared.

With sincerity and scraps of wrapping paper,
Irene

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