The Weight of a Handbag

Since 2023, I’ve done little things to help my parents. I do the grocery shopping, pick up the small household stuff, buy the personal items they need before they even ask. I do it not because they can’t, but because it takes one thing off their plate. It’s my way of saying thank you for giving me a home, for letting me stay while I chase something bigger, something that’s taking a while.

Over time, I started noticing how much things cost – not just food, but everything. A simple purse I liked used to be $10, maybe $12. Then it jumped to $20, $25, even $35. Dresses I used to get for under $20 now cost $40, $50, and still don’t feel like they’re made to last.

And the fees? Oh, they always sneak in. Shipping, handling, service charges – it’s like simply breathing in the world costs money now.

Illustrations by Cortlan Souders

Sometimes I see a bag I love, one that reflects who I am, and I hover over the purchase button. But I feel a pit in my stomach. My mind races: “I shouldn’t spend that. What if I need the money later? What if I’m being selfish?” I close the tab. Not because I can’t afford it in the moment, but because it feels dangerous to buy joy when the world is this unstable.

It scares me, because I live with my parents. I’m lucky. I have a roof, support, food. I’m studying to go into medical school. But I keep asking: what about the people who don’t have that support? What about the ones whose parents told them, “You’re on your own at 18”? What about the people who were pushed out, or ran away, or had no choice but to grow up fast?

Rent is nearly $2,000 in some cities for a tiny apartment. Groceries that used to be $60 a week now feel like $120. And people still say, “Just work harder.” But people are working. They’re working 40, 50, 60 hours a week and still barely surviving.

Some are skipping school because they can’t afford tuition or because the fear of incurring debt is too much. Others don’t even start college, scared that higher living costs on top of student loans will bury them. It’s not just about money. It’s about the pressure, the stress, the endless juggling act just to survive. Education, which should be an inviting door to a better life, feels like an extravagant luxury too many can’t afford.

I wonder how those people are doing – the ones who pretend they’re okay. The ones who carry the weight of the world in silence. The ones who scroll past the dress or the purse or the shoes that could make them feel more like themselves again, because they know better. Because survival always comes first.

So no, this isn’t just a rant about a handbag. It’s about what it means to even think about buying one in a world like this. It’s about gratitude wrapped in guilt. It’s about fear of the future tangled with small moments of hope. It’s about being scared but trying anyway. And knowing how lucky you are, even while your chest still feels tight at night.

Some people might say, “Just move out.” “Just budget.” “Just don’t buy the coffee.” But it’s never just about coffee, or a purse. It’s about having the basics – security, stability, a chance to breathe without constant panic. It’s about the impossible choices people have to make every day, either to keep chasing dreams or to settle instead, just to survive.

If you have a place to stay and people who tell you, “Stay until you’re ready,” don’t forget how rare that is. Because for most people today, that safety net doesn’t exist. Not because they’re lazy or don’t try, but because the cost of living keeps climbing while wages don’t.

The truth is, the system isn’t built for everyone to get ahead. And until that changes, all the advice in the world won’t fix the real problem.