The Resilient Dollar

Money is, of course, the most obvious challenge. While Paul had a severance package and unemployment benefits for a few months, the gap left behind by a lost income is huge.

Scrutiny on Every Dollar

Gone are the days of carefree spending. Every purchase—yes, even a can of beans—is now up for debate. That casual “Add to Cart” moment has become a mental interrogation: “Is this really necessary right now?” Shopping feels more like a battlefield than a convenience.

(Also, if you’re in New England, those beans are now $2.89 at Market Basket—not 89 cents anymore.)

The Disappearing “Buffer”

Watching our savings dwindle is the hardest part. That number, which used to represent safety and growth, now feels like a ticking clock. Watching our savings shrink touches my deepest fear – losing control of our future.  I find myself asking: How much longer can we hold on?

And then there’s the crushing uncertainty. When will the next paycheck come? Will it come? That constant anxiety seeps into every aspect of life.

The Breadwinner’s Burden

The emotional weight of being the sole income earner is enormous.

There’s the pressure to perform at work—to overdeliver, stay out of office politics, and never slip up—because one mistake could put everything at risk. I find myself hyper-aware of my boss’s mood, managing up more carefully than ever, just trying to stay in good graces.

Loss of Freedom and Choice

We’ve lost freedom. No more spontaneous dinners out, no impulsive weekend getaways. My husband was always the spontaneous one in our relationship. Now, I see that spark dimming in him. And when spontaneity fades, so does a bit of joy. It’s survival mode now.

Radical Transparency and Communication

We’ve learned to talk openly—about anxiety, frustration, fear, and finances. Paul has stopped impulse shopping, even checking in with me before making purchases. We make decisions together, even the small ones, and that helps.

Shared Responsibility (Beyond Income)

He’s also taken on more of the household management: cooking, cleaning, errands, repairs. It lightens my load and gives him a sense of contribution and purpose during this difficult chapter.

Protecting Mental Health

We prioritize exercise and free hobbies like walking or biking. He’s getting back into lifting weights—something that helps both his health and his mental state.

The recent layoff brought an immediate appreciation for the financial groundwork we laid years ago. It’s thanks to those efforts that our rental property income  covers all our mortgages today. But this event  was also a wake-up call: We can’t rely on 9–5 paychecks anymore. It’s time to diversify even more.

We started looking into side hustles, freelance gigs, and even buying a small business. In fact, we nearly bought a drain cleaning company last year. The deal almost went through. However, it ultimately fell through because of the seller’s lack of transparent financial support. They also lacked knowledge about their own company.

It was frustrating. But let’s say we bought the business in another universe, that business would’ve made us $50K net per year.

We learned that business ownership might be our next big chapter. And while that specific deal didn’t work out, we’re still keeping our eyes open for the next opportunity.

(Stay tuned—I’ll write more about that whole rollercoaster in another post.)

Living on a single income after a layoff is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. It challenges your relationship with money, your partnership, and your sense of self-worth. But if you face it head-on—with honesty, teamwork, and a willingness to adapt—it can also be a powerful catalyst for growth.

You’re not alone. And if you’re carrying the financial weight of your household right now, I see you. Keep going. You’re stronger than you think.

Are you a sole breadwinner right now? How do you feel? Comment and let me know!