I Started a “Low Spend Month” and Immediately Needed Shampoo
I started a low spend month the way I start most “new me” plans, which means I opened my notes app with dramatic optimism, wrote a list of rules like I was a finance wizard, and told myself I was going to be the kind of person who buys nothing unnecessary. I made the rules…
I started a low spend month the way I start most “new me” plans, which means I opened my notes app with dramatic optimism, wrote a list of rules like I was a finance wizard, and told myself I was going to be the kind of person who buys nothing unnecessary.
I made the rules simple, because if the rules are too complicated I will immediately rebel against my own life. No random online shopping. No “just browsing” at Target. No thrift store “maybes” unless it’s genuinely needed.
Then, on day two, my shampoo ran out. Not “running low.” Not “I can stretch this.” Fully out. The bottle made that sad air-sucking noise that sounds like your budget screaming.
I stood there in the shower holding the empty bottle like it had personally betrayed me, because I had just declared I was doing a low spend month and my hair immediately required a purchase, like it was filing a complaint against my plan.
Being responsible still costs money, and the goal of budgeting isn’t to stop spending completely, it’s to spend on what keeps your life running without punishing yourself for being a human with a scalp.
Why “Low Spend” Sounds So Clean Until Real Life Shows Up
Low spend months look simple online because people talk about them like you can just decide to stop spending and then everything becomes magically easy. They make it sound like a fun challenge, and they forget to mention that a responsible life contains boring expenses.
Soap does not wait. Toilet paper does not consult your financial goals. Shampoo will leave you with an empty bottle and a wet head regardless of your intentions.
I think the reason low spend plans can feel emotional is that we’re not just trying to save money, we’re trying to prove something, like we can finally be “good” with money, and when real life interrupts, it can feel like failure instead of reality.
I didn’t want it to feel like failure this time, so I had to keep coming back to the message while I was annoyed in my shower: being responsible still costs money.

Here’s the Part I Messed Up, So You Don’t Have To
I made rules that didn’t include reality. My original low spend list had “no unnecessary purchases,” which is fine, but I didn’t define what “necessary” actually meant. When you don’t define it, your brain starts panicking and treating everything as either a failure or a loophole.
I also made the mistake of thinking being responsible meant spending nothing, when being responsible actually means spending on the right things, at the right time, without spiraling.
Here’s the part I messed up, so you don’t have to: I almost treated buying shampoo like breaking a promise, when buying shampoo is literally part of keeping your life functioning.
The Store Trip Where I Tried Not to Turn Shampoo Into a Whole Event
I went to the store with one goal: buy shampoo and leave. That sounds easy until you remember stores are designed to tempt you, especially if you’re me, a person who can walk in for shampoo and leave with a candle, a new mug, and a seasonal towel I don’t need.
I walked into the aisle and felt the immediate sensory overload, the bright packaging, the deals, the “buy two get one,” and my brain tried to interpret it as a test of character.
I kept repeating the message to myself like it was a tiny mantra: being responsible still costs money. That reminder kept me grounded, because it shifted my focus from “don’t spend” to “spend intentionally.”
The Shampoo Decision That Was Actually the Real Lesson
I stood there comparing prices like I was about to defend my purchase in court.
Do I buy the cheapest one and hate my hair all month?
Do I buy the one I love and feel guilty?
Do I buy something in the middle and pretend it’s a compromise with the universe?
This is where I had to remind myself what a low spend month is supposed to be. It’s a way to reduce mindless spending so you have more room for the things that matter. Shampoo matters because it keeps you clean and comfortable and not secretly irritated all day.
So I bought the one that works for me, but I didn’t buy three extras, and I didn’t buy a matching conditioner I didn’t need, and I didn’t let myself wander into the candle aisle “just to look.” That was the win, not the fact that I spent zero dollars.

The Bigger Truth: Responsible Spending Is Real
When I got home, I put the shampoo in the shower and felt relieved in a very boring way, which is actually the best kind of relief, because boring relief means your life is stable. I also realized something that I want to keep carrying through the whole month, because it changes everything.
Being responsible still costs money. You can be frugal and still have basic expenses. You can be disciplined and still need to replace things.
You can be saving and still buy shampoo, deodorant, toothpaste, detergent, and all the other items that keep your life running.
If your low spend month doesn’t include maintenance, it’s not a plan, it’s a fantasy, and fantasies are where people give up.
The Low Spend Rules I Adjusted So I Wouldn’t Quit
I didn’t want to throw out the whole low spend month because of shampoo, so I changed the rules to reflect reality, which made the whole challenge feel kinder and more doable.
My Low Spend Month Categories
- Maintenance: shampoo, soap, toothpaste, detergent, basic household refills
- Food: groceries that support real meals, not “sad snacks because I’m stressed”
- Bills: rent, utilities, subscriptions I actually use
- Joy Budget: one small planned treat, because deprivation leads to rebellion
This is not a complicated budget system, it’s just a way to keep myself from spiraling. If I know maintenance is allowed, I don’t have to argue with myself in the shower. If I have a small joy budget, I’m less likely to blow up my whole plan when I get tired.
Being responsible still costs money, and responsible planning includes room for that truth.
The Message, Woven Through the Whole Story
The shampoo wasn’t just shampoo, it was a reminder that adult life is mostly maintenance, and maintenance isn’t failure, it’s care.
I used to think budgeting meant denying myself everything until I became a better person, and now I’m learning budgeting can be a form of kindness, because it helps you support your life instead of constantly reacting to it.
So if you’re doing a low spend month and something boring pops up immediately, you’re not failing, you’re living. You’re running a household, even if your household is just you and your chaotic brain and your hair that refuses to cooperate without shampoo.
What’s the most annoying “responsible” purchase you’ve had to make right when you were trying to save, because I swear life times these things like a joke, and I want to know I’m not the only one getting humbled by shampoo on day two.