Most of us grow up with the same money mantra drilled into our heads: debt is bad. Like, hide-your-credit-card-statements-in-the-junk-drawer bad. And while that kind of thinking might’ve made sense for your grandparents (who also bought homes for less than the price of your last vacation), modern financial life is a bit more nuanced.
A close friend of mine—we’ll call her Lena—used to freeze every time a financial form asked for her credit score. She’d glance around, embarrassed, and mumble something about it “not being great,” hoping no one would press further. She had a steady income, no extravagant spending habits, and had even paid off her car—but years of medical debt and missed payments in her early twenties had left her score bruised and stubbornly stuck below 600.
When the summer sun rolls into California, it doesn’t knock politely. It swings the door open, kicks off its shoes, and makes itself way too comfortable. We’re talking triple-digit heat that lingers well past sundown, the kind that turns steering wheels into stovetops and transforms any movement into an act of defiance.
