Executive Summary
Holiday overspending represents a growing financial crisis affecting Singaporeans, mirroring global patterns but with distinct local characteristics. Credit card rollover balances hit a record high of S$7.9 billion in Q3 2024, while one-third of Singapore adults expect to spend less on Christmas due to rising cost of living. This analysis examines the psychological, cultural, and economic factors driving holiday overspending in Singapore’s unique context, providing evidence-based strategies for breaking the cycle.
The Singapore Credit Crisis: Understanding the Local Context
The Alarming Statistics
Singapore faces a mounting consumer debt problem that intensifies during holiday seasons. Credit card rollover balances reached an all-time high of S$7.9 billion in the third quarter of 2024, representing money not paid by due dates and subject to interest charges. Even more concerning, bad debts rose nearly 20% to S$89.4 million in Q1 2024, reaching levels not seen since 2021.
The holiday spending patterns reveal troubling trends specific to Singapore:
Cost of Living Pressure: 35% of Singaporeans say they will spend less on Christmas than usual due to rising cost of living, compared to just 12% who plan to spend more. Despite intentions to cut back, many still turn to credit to maintain gift-giving traditions.
Spending Concentration: More than a third of residents expect to spend between S$101 and S$500 over Christmas, with a quarter spending below S$50 or between S$51 and S$100. However, these modest budgets often expand when credit cards come into play.
Credit Dependency: Total credit card billings rose by 1.3% to S$24 billion in Q3 2024, showing sustained high credit usage even as cost of living concerns mount.
Demographic Vulnerability: Individuals aged 45 to 49 carry the highest average unsecured debt, followed closely by those aged 40 to 44, while younger consumers aged 21 to 39 have seen increases in outstanding balances since early 2024.
The Singapore-Specific Challenge
Unlike the US where nearly 40% regret holiday overspending, Singapore’s challenge manifests differently. The combination of a strong shopping culture, extensive year-end sales events, high living costs, and easy credit access creates a perfect storm for debt accumulation during the holiday season.
Five Root Causes of Holiday Overspending in Singapore
1. The Gift-Giving Pressure in a Multi-Cultural Society
Singapore’s multi-cultural landscape creates unique gift-giving pressures. With Chinese New Year, Hari Raya, Deepavali, and Christmas all celebrated nationally, many Singaporeans navigate multiple gift-giving seasons throughout the year, with December being particularly intense.
The psychological equation between money and affection operates powerfully here. In Asian cultures particularly, gift-giving carries significant face (mianzi) implications. The perceived value of gifts can reflect not just affection but also social status and respect. This cultural dimension adds another layer of pressure beyond simple emotional expression, making budget constraints feel like potential social embarrassment.
For families with mixed cultural backgrounds, the pressure multiplies. Parents may feel obligated to celebrate multiple festivals meaningfully, purchasing gifts for each occasion to ensure children don’t feel left out compared to peers celebrating different holidays.
2. Singapore’s Relentless Sales Culture
Singapore has cultivated one of the world’s most intensive retail cultures, with shopping described as a national pastime alongside eating. The year-end period brings an unprecedented concentration of sales events:
The Great Singapore Sale Legacy: While the traditional mid-year Great Singapore Sale has lost its lustre, with Orchard Road during GSS season feeling like a ghost town compared to massive crowds in previous years, year-end sales have intensified to compensate. Retailers now compete fiercely for December spending.
Concentrated Sales Events: The 11.11 sale in 2023 saw a 192% surge in online retail sales in Singapore, conditioning consumers to expect major discounts. This leads into Black Friday, Cyber Monday, 12.12 sales, Christmas sales, and Boxing Day clearances extending through December 26-31, creating non-stop promotional pressure.
E-Commerce Dominance: Singaporeans are expected to spend S$3.5 billion online, a 15% increase from 2016. Mobile shopping makes purchases dangerously convenient, with constant push notifications about flash deals and limited-time offers.
Omnichannel Bombardment: Singapore retailers excel at integrated marketing across physical stores, online platforms, mobile apps, and social media. Shopping is a serious pastime for Singaporeans, who shop all the time during lunchtime, after work, and at weekends. This cultural acceptance of constant shopping makes resisting holiday promotions particularly difficult.
3. Record Credit Card Usage and Dangerous Interest Rates
Singapore’s credit card crisis creates the financial mechanism enabling overspending:
Astronomical Interest Rates: Credit card interest rates range from 27.8% to 27.78% per year, among the highest in the region. These rates compound daily, meaning holiday debt grows rapidly if not paid immediately.
The Hidden Killer: High interest rates on credit card debt are described as a “hidden, silent killer” by financial advisors. Many cardholders don’t fully understand how quickly debt accumulates under daily compounding.
Minimum Payment Trap: Singapore credit card statements emphasize minimum payments, typically 3% of the outstanding balance. This creates dangerous anchoring bias where consumers reference this low number rather than the full balance, unknowingly locking themselves into years of debt repayment.
Rewards Temptation: Credit card companies entice customers with attractive rewards, cashback, and gifts, making spending feel beneficial rather than problematic. During holiday seasons, these rewards often multiply, encouraging increased spending to “maximize benefits.”
Growing Burden: Credit card rollover balances continuing an upward trend since surpassing S$7 billion indicates systemic over-reliance on credit that peaks during holiday spending periods.
4. Unique Singapore Shopping Ecosystem
Several Singapore-specific factors amplify holiday spending:
Orchard Road Culture: Orchard Road remains the primary destination with over 20 malls, including ION Orchard, Paragon, and Ngee Ann City. The concentration of luxury retailers and constant foot traffic creates social comparison pressure. Seeing others with shopping bags triggers feelings of being left behind.
Sentosa and Marina Bay Events: Sentosa celebrates Christmas with beachfront carnivals, themed installations, and festive programmes at attractions like Universal Studios Singapore. These entertainment-retail combinations encourage spending beyond just gifts into experiences and dining.
Gardens by the Bay Spectacles: Gardens by the Bay hosts Christmas Wonderland, featuring towering light sculptures, European-style fairground, carnival games, and nightly snow displays. Entry fees, food, and retail at these events add layers of holiday expenses.
24/7 Shopping Availability: Mustafa Center in Little India offers around-the-clock shopping experiences. This constant availability removes natural constraints on spending timing, enabling impulse purchases at any hour.
Year-End Travel Pressure: Singapore’s compact size means many residents travel during year-end holidays. Post-pandemic spending increases were attributed to higher consumer spending on travel and dining, adding significant expenses beyond gift budgets.
5. The Conspicuous Consumption Trap
Singapore’s high-income, status-conscious society creates unique pressures:
Lifestyle Inflation: The rise in credit card debt is fueled by lifestyle inflation, where individuals with higher incomes turn to luxury spending to cope with work-related stress. The holiday season becomes an outlet for stress spending disguised as generosity.
Social Media Amplification: Singapore’s high social media penetration means constant exposure to influencer holiday content showcasing elaborate gifts, decorations, and celebrations. This creates unrealistic benchmarks for “normal” holiday spending.
Kiasu Mentality: The distinctly Singaporean fear of missing out (kiasu) intensifies during sales. Kiasu shoppers hunt for best deals, but this mentality can paradoxically drive overspending as people buy items simply because they’re on sale, not because they’re needed.
Gift Equity Concerns: In Singapore’s pragmatic culture, there’s often unspoken calculation about gift value reciprocity. This leads to spending based on perceived obligations rather than genuine desire or budget capacity.
The Consequences: Beyond Holiday Regret
The impact extends throughout the year, creating lasting financial damage:
Compounding Debt Burden
With interest rates near 28% annually, holiday debt becomes exponentially more expensive. A S$2,000 Christmas shopping spree on credit cards, paid off over a year with minimum payments, could ultimately cost S$2,500-3,000 or more. The “gifts” purchased end up costing 25-50% more than their original price.
Contributing to National Debt Crisis
Credit Counselling Singapore counselled 867 borrowers between November 2023 and April 2024, a 7% increase from the previous six-month period. Holiday overspending contributes to this growing need for debt assistance.
In 2023, the average debt size of individuals seeking CCS help was approximately S$95,409, with a median debt size of S$51,609. While not all attributable to holiday spending, seasonal debt often tips struggling households into crisis territory requiring intervention.
Long-Term Financial Instability
High credit card balances can negatively impact credit scores, affecting future loan applications. This can create cascading consequences, making it harder to secure favorable terms for essential borrowing like housing loans.
As more income goes towards debt repayment, less is available for savings and investments. In Singapore’s expensive environment where CPF alone may be insufficient for retirement, reduced savings capacity from holiday debt can have serious long-term implications.
Psychological and Relationship Toll
The stress of debt accumulation affects mental health and relationships. In Singapore’s high-pressure work environment, adding financial stress from discretionary holiday spending can be particularly damaging. Money conflicts arising from undiscussed holiday spending decisions strain partnerships and families.
Breaking the Cycle: Singapore-Specific Solutions
Strategic Planning for Multi-Season Gifting
Annual Gift Budget: Rather than budgeting per occasion, create an annual gift budget covering all celebrations. Divide by 12 and save monthly. Even S$100 per month creates S$1,200 annually for all gift-giving needs across Chinese New Year, Hari Raya, Deepavali, Christmas, birthdays, and weddings.
Early October Planning: Data shows that searches for holiday-related topics begin 8-10 weeks before the holiday season. Start planning in October to avoid last-minute premium pricing and impulse decisions.
Leverage Pre-Holiday Sales: 75% of respondents planned to shop deals during October and November. Purchase Christmas gifts during 11.11 or Black Friday when prices are often lower than December Christmas sales.
Navigating Singapore’s Sales Environment
Unsubscribe and Unfollow: Reduce exposure to Lazada, Shopee, and retailer marketing emails. Unfollow shopping influencers during November-December. The less you see, the less you’ll be tempted.
Avoid Orchard Road: If shopping isn’t necessary, stay away from shopping districts entirely during holiday season. The visual stimulation and crowds trigger spending impulses.
Shop With Lists Only: Create specific lists with item names, target prices, and purchase locations. Shop bargain finds across regions but only for pre-planned items.
Use Cash or Debit: Using cash for holiday shopping with the envelope method involves placing budgeted amounts in separate envelopes by category. Once an envelope is empty, spending stops for that category. This creates immediate feedback that credit cards don’t provide.
Credit Card Management
Pay Full Balances Immediately: Credit card interest rates typically range from 25.9% to 27.9% per annum. Never carry holiday balances into the new year. If you can’t afford to pay immediately, you can’t afford the purchase.
Reduce Card Numbers: Keeping only essential credit cards lowers temptation to overspend and improves credit utilization ratio. Consider having just one card with a reasonable limit.
Ignore Minimum Payments: The minimum monthly payment keeps credit users in debt by influencing the rate at which they clear outstanding debt due to anchoring bias. Always calculate full payoff amounts and ignore the minimum payment figure entirely.
Set Credit Alerts: Configure bank apps to send alerts for every transaction. Real-time awareness of spending helps maintain budget consciousness.
Singapore-Appropriate Gift Alternatives
Experience Gifts: Singapore offers abundant affordable experiences. Hawker center food tours, East Coast Park picnics, free Gardens by the Bay light shows, or Sentosa beach days create memories without retail spending.
Time-Based Gifts: Offer services like babysitting (crucial for busy Singapore parents), cooking meals, elderly parent care assistance, or help with house chores. These have real value in Singapore’s time-scarce society.
Group Gifting: 42% of adults say they will reduce spending on presents. Propose Secret Santa or group gift arrangements within extended families to reduce individual burden while maintaining tradition.
Homemade Traditions: 39% of people are considering making handmade gifts instead of buying them. In Singapore’s pragmatic culture, frame this as smart financial planning rather than being cheap.
Charitable Donations: Make donations to local charities like Community Chest or Food Bank Singapore in recipients’ names, aligning with Singapore’s community values.
Financial Education and Support
Utilize Free Resources: MoneySense’s partner, the Institute for Financial Literacy, provides free financial education including “Basics of money management” and “Understanding loans and credit”.
One-on-One Clinics: Consumers can sign up for free one-on-one financial health clinics run by IFL to learn how to address gaps in personal finances.
Credit Counselling: If already in debt, Credit Counselling Singapore assists cash-strapped borrowers with unsecured debt problems. Early intervention prevents crisis escalation.
Workplace Programs: IFL provides training at workplaces, and employers are encouraged to facilitate participation. Check if your employer offers financial wellness programs.
Addressing Regulatory Environment
MAS has put in place safeguards including limiting unsecured credit granted to those earning less than S$120,000 annually to 12 times their monthly income. If approaching these limits, recognize it as a warning sign requiring immediate spending reduction.
If a borrower’s unsecured debt exceeds the 12 times limit for three consecutive months, financial institutions are prohibited from granting additional unsecured credit facilities. Don’t wait until hitting these regulatory limits; they indicate serious financial distress.
Addressing Singapore’s Unique Psychology
Reframing the Kiasu Mindset
Instead of kiasu (fear of losing out) on sales, become kiasu about financial security. Frame debt avoidance as “winning” against the system designed to extract money. View successful budget adherence as outperforming those who overspend.
Managing Face Concerns
In Singapore’s face-conscious society, reframe modest gifting as financial wisdom rather than cheapness. Wealthy Singaporeans often pride themselves on being savvy shoppers. Present budget consciousness as sophistication and intelligence rather than deprivation.
Separating Gifts from Relationship Quality
Explicitly discuss with close family and friends that gift value doesn’t reflect care. In Singapore’s practical culture, most people appreciate this honesty and often feel relieved to reciprocally reduce spending pressure.
Building Social Support
Spending cutbacks were largely consistent across all age groups, with people looking to reduce spending on presents, gatherings, and outings. You’re not alone in wanting to reduce holiday spending. Find like-minded friends and family to create new, lower-cost traditions together.
Special Considerations for Singapore Demographics
Younger Singaporeans (21-30)
Younger credit cardholders between 21 to 30 years old were twice as likely to default on outstanding balances. Early career Singaporeans face particular vulnerability due to lower incomes, social comparison pressure, and less experience managing credit.
Start conservative. Resist pressure to match peers’ spending. Many are financing their lifestyles with debt that will haunt them for years. Building savings habits now provides compounding benefits throughout life.
Middle-Aged Singaporeans (40-54)
Older residents were most likely to reduce spending across categories, particularly for presents (44-45%) and gatherings (39% for 45-54 age group). This demographic, often supporting both children and aging parents, faces squeeze from multiple directions.
Prioritize long-term financial security over holiday extravagance. Your children benefit more from your retirement security than from expensive gifts now.
Multi-Generational Households
Singapore’s multi-generational living arrangements create complex holiday dynamics. Different generations may have different expectations about gift-giving. Hold family discussions early about reducing overall spending while honoring traditions through non-material means.
The Broader Economic Context
Singapore’s Retail Environment
In February 2025, retail sales fell by 3.6% year-on-year, with apparel and footwear experiencing an 18.4% decline. Despite this, analysts anticipate 2.0% growth in retail sales for the first half of 2025, supported by a resilient domestic labor market and upcoming retail events.
This mixed picture suggests economic uncertainty. Holiday spending should account for this uncertain environment, maintaining financial reserves rather than depleting them for gifts.
Labor Market Resilience
Boosting economic growth and maintaining low unemployment are key to easing the strain of credit card debt. While Singapore’s employment remains relatively stable, individual job security isn’t guaranteed. Building emergency funds takes precedence over holiday spending.
Household Financial Position
Household net worth rose to S$3.1 trillion in Q4 2024, up 8.4% from 2023, showing that most Singaporeans still have a solid financial cushion. However, aggregate statistics mask individual situations. Don’t assume others’ apparent financial comfort reflects reality; many maintain lifestyles through debt.
Conclusion: Creating Sustainable Holiday Traditions in Singapore
Singapore’s unique combination of multi-cultural celebrations, intensive retail culture, high living costs, and easy credit access creates particular vulnerability to holiday overspending. The data is clear: credit card debt reached record levels by end of 2024, with unpaid balances climbing to S$8.3 billion.
Breaking this cycle requires understanding Singapore-specific drivers:
- Multiple gift-giving seasons throughout the year
- Concentrated sales events creating constant promotional pressure
- Record-high credit card interest rates near 28% annually
- Shopping culture deeply embedded in national identity
- Status consciousness and face concerns amplifying spending pressure
The solution lies not in eliminating holiday celebrations but in redesigning them around financial sustainability. This means:
- Planning annually rather than seasonally for all gift-giving
- Leveraging sales strategically rather than reactively
- Using cash/debit rather than credit to maintain spending awareness
- Reframing modest gifting as wisdom rather than inadequacy
- Creating non-material traditions that honor relationships without debt
Singapore offers abundant free and low-cost ways to celebrate meaningfully. The true gift you can give loved ones is your own financial stability and stress-free presence, not expensive items purchased with money you don’t have.
The choice is clear: continue contributing to Singapore’s mounting consumer debt crisis, or implement deliberate strategies to create sustainable holiday traditions. The tools, knowledge, and support systems exist through MoneySense, IFL, and Credit Counselling Singapore. What’s required is commitment to prioritizing long-term financial health over short-term holiday pressure.
Your future self—and the loved ones who want you to thrive—will thank you for choosing financial wisdom over holiday debt.
The December Reckoning
Part One: The Promise
Mei Lin stood in the middle of ION Orchard, the December lights reflecting off the polished marble floors like stars fallen to earth. Around her, shoppers moved with purpose, their branded bags rustling with each step. Above, a massive Christmas tree spiraled toward the atrium ceiling, each ornament catching light from a thousand angles.
Her phone buzzed. Another notification from Shopee: “12.12 MEGA SALE! Last 3 hours! Up to 90% off!”
She swiped it away, but the damage was done. Her thumb hovered over the app icon. Just a quick look, she told herself. Just to see if there was anything good.
Three months ago, Mei Lin had made herself a promise. Standing in her cramped Tiong Bahru flat, surrounded by unopened shopping bags from the 9.9 sale, she’d looked at her credit card statement and felt her stomach drop. S$4,200. The minimum payment stared back at her: S$126. That didn’t seem so bad. She could manage S$126.
What she hadn’t understood then—what the bright red number failed to convey—was that S$126 would barely cover the interest. At 27.8% annually, her debt was growing faster than she could pay it down. But that morning in September, still reeling from the number, she’d made a simple promise: No more credit card debt. She’d pay off the balance by December and never let it happen again.
And she’d kept that promise. Sort of. For three months, she’d transferred S$1,400 each month to the card, watching the balance slowly decrease. By November, she was down to S$200. Victory felt close enough to taste.
Then December arrived.
“Mei Lin! Over here!” Her colleague Rachel waved from the entrance of Chanel, five glossy shopping bags dangling from her arms. “You have to see what I got for my mum. It’s perfect.”
Mei Lin walked over, her own empty hands suddenly conspicuous.
“Look,” Rachel pulled out a silk scarf, the fabric flowing like water. “It was S$890, but with my credit card points and the Christmas promotion, I basically got it for free. Well, S$750, but that’s basically free, right?”
Mei Lin nodded automatically, but her mind was calculating. S$750 for a scarf. Her mother would appreciate something nice this year. She’d been complaining about her old handbag for months.
“You done shopping?” Rachel asked, already moving toward the next store.
“Not yet,” Mei Lin said. “Still planning.”
“Girl, Christmas is in two weeks! Better hurry before all the good stuff is gone.”
After Rachel left, Mei Lin found herself drifting toward the handbag section of a department store. She didn’t mean to. Her feet just carried her there, past the cosmetics counters where salesgirls spritzed perfume into the air, past the jewelry displays catching light like fishing lures.
The handbags sat on illuminated pedestals, each one a small throne. Her mother would love the burgundy one, she thought. Classic, practical, but elevated. The kind of thing that said: My daughter has made it.
“Can I help you?” A sales associate appeared, her smile professionally warm.
“Just looking,” Mei Lin said, but her hand was already reaching for the burgundy bag.
“That’s one of our most popular pieces,” the associate said. “Genuine leather, three compartments, adjustable strap. And today only, it’s 30% off. Comes to S$315 after discount.”
S$315. Mei Lin did the mental math. She had S$400 in her checking account until payday next week. If she put it on her credit card—just this once—she could pay it off with her year-end bonus in January. Her company always gave bonuses. Well, usually. Probably.
“I’ll take it,” she heard herself say.
Part Two: The Slide
The thing about promises, Mei Lin discovered, is that they’re easier to break the second time.
After the handbag, there was her father’s gift. He’d mentioned wanting new golf clubs during dinner last month. She found a set on Lazada, marked down from S$800 to S$560 during a flash sale. The timer counted down: 02:47:33. She had less than three hours to decide.
The clubs went into her cart.
Then there was her brother’s family. Three nephews meant three Nintendo Switch games—S$50 each, a bargain really. And her sister-in-law had been posting photos of luxury skincare on Instagram. Mei Lin found a set at Sephora for S$280. That wasn’t too much, was it? Family was important.
Her fingers moved across her phone screen while she sat in the MRT, while she waited for her kopi at the hawker center, while she lay in bed unable to sleep. Each purchase felt justified in isolation. Each sale seemed too good to miss.
By December 15th, her credit card balance was S$2,100.
She told herself she’d stop. But then Rachel invited her to the Christmas Wonderland at Gardens by the Bay. “Come on, it’s tradition!” Rachel had said. The admission was S$26, but once inside, there were carnival games (S$5 each), mulled wine (S$12), roasted chestnuts (S$8), and a light-up toy her youngest nephew would love (S$35).
Her phone glowed in the darkness as they walked through the luminous garden, surrounded by families laughing and children squealing with delight. She checked her banking app, then quickly closed it. The numbers could wait until tomorrow.
“You okay?” Rachel asked. “You’ve been quiet.”
“Just tired,” Mei Lin said. “Work’s been crazy.”
Rachel nodded sympathetically. “Tell me about it. That’s why I need retail therapy. My therapist says I should treat myself more. Life’s too short to not enjoy it, you know?”
Mei Lin wondered if Rachel’s therapist knew about the S$15,000 in credit card debt Rachel had mentioned casually last month, laughing as if it were a personality quirk rather than a crisis.
That night, Mei Lin sat at her kitchen table, her laptop open to her online banking. The numbers glowed accusingly:
Credit Card Balance: S$2,847.63 Available Credit: S$1,152.37 Minimum Payment Due: S$85.43
How had it gotten to S$2,847? She’d only spent… she pulled up her statement, scrolling through the transactions. Each one made sense individually. The handbag for her mother. The golf clubs for her father. The games, the skincare, the Christmas Wonderland, the dinner she’d treated Rachel to, the dress she’d needed for her company’s Christmas party, the Secret Santa gift for the office exchange.
All reasonable. All necessary. All adding up to nearly S$3,000.
Her year-end bonus would cover it, she told herself. It had to.
Part Three: The Gathering
The Wei family gathered at Mei Lin’s parents’ apartment in Ang Mo Kio on Christmas Eve. The smell of her mother’s bak kut teh filled the small space, mixing with the scent of pine from the modest Christmas tree in the corner.
“Mei Lin!” Her mother rushed to hug her. “You’re so thin! Are you eating properly?”
“I’m fine, Ma,” Mei Lin said, setting down her bags of gifts. Her credit card balance was now S$3,200. She’d stopped checking after December 20th.
Her father sat in his usual chair, watching the Channel 8 Christmas special with the volume too loud. Her brother Wei Jie and his family were already there, the three boys running circles around the adults.
“Open presents!” The youngest nephew, Ethan, bounced with excitement.
Mei Lin distributed her gifts, watching faces light up. Her mother gasped at the handbag, running her fingers over the leather. “Mei Lin, this is too much.”
“It’s okay, Ma. I got a good deal.”
Her father examined the golf clubs with appreciation. “Quality equipment. Very good, girl.”
Wei Jie’s boys tore into their Nintendo games with appropriate enthusiasm. Her sister-in-law Teresa smiled at the skincare set. “You shouldn’t have,” she said, but her expression said she was glad Mei Lin had.
Then came the moment Mei Lin had been dreading.
“Mei Lin,” her mother said, settling next to her on the couch. “I need to talk to you about something.”
Her mother’s face was serious now, the joy from the handbag fading. “Your father and I… we’re going to Malaysia next month. His brother is very sick.”
“Oh.” Mei Lin felt a cold weight in her stomach. “How sick?”
“Bad. We need to stay maybe two months, help with the medical bills. I know it’s short notice, but…” Her mother hesitated. “We were hoping you could help. Maybe S$5,000? We’ll pay you back when we sell the shophouse.”
S$5,000. The number echoed in Mei Lin’s head. She had S$400 in her checking account. Her credit card was maxed out. Her savings account—the emergency fund she’d been building—had S$3,200, but she’d planned to use that to pay down her credit card debt.
“Mei Lin?” Her mother’s voice was gentle. “I know it’s a lot to ask. If you can’t—”
“No, Ma. Of course I can help.” The words came out automatically. How could she say no? Her uncle was dying. Her parents needed her.
But as she said it, she felt something crack inside her chest.
Part Four: The Reckoning
Mei Lin sat in the Credit Counselling Singapore office on the second day of the new year. The waiting room was quiet, the festive decorations from December already gone. Other people sat in similar postures of defeat—slouched shoulders, eyes fixed on phones or floors.
Her year-end bonus had come on December 28th. After CPF deductions, she’d received S$2,100. It wasn’t enough to cover even her credit card balance, let alone help her parents.
She’d spent New Year’s Eve lying to her mother, promising the S$5,000 would be ready by next week. Then she’d spent New Year’s Day crying in her bathroom, adding up numbers that refused to add up.
Credit card debt: S$3,200 Money owed to parents: S$5,000 Checking account: S$400 Savings account: S$3,200 (meant for credit card payment) Monthly take-home pay: S$3,800 Monthly expenses (rent, utilities, food, transport): S$2,800 Available to pay debt: S$1,000/month
Even if she gave her parents her entire savings and used her bonus for the credit card, she’d still be S$1,100 in debt, with nothing left for emergencies. And at 27.8% interest, that debt would grow by roughly S$25 per month even if she never used the card again.
She’d searched desperately: “credit card debt help Singapore,” “how to pay off debt fast,” “debt consolidation Singapore.”
That’s how she found Credit Counselling Singapore.
“Mei Lin Wei?” A counselor called her name.
The counselor, Mrs. Tan, was in her fifties with kind eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor. She listened without judgment as Mei Lin explained everything—the promise in September, the Christmas shopping, the unexpected family emergency.
“You’re not alone,” Mrs. Tan said when Mei Lin finished. “We’re seeing more young professionals like you. The combination of easy credit and sales culture is a perfect storm.”
She pulled up Mei Lin’s numbers on her screen. “Let’s be realistic about your situation. Your debt-to-income ratio isn’t catastrophic, but it’s concerning. You’re spending 74% of your income on fixed expenses before debt payments. That’s not sustainable.”
Mrs. Tan created a spreadsheet, her fingers flying over the keyboard. “Here’s what we’re going to do. First, we’ll contact your credit card company and negotiate a lower interest rate or a structured repayment plan. Many banks will work with you if you approach them proactively, especially through CCS.”
“Will it affect my credit score?”
“Not if we structure it properly. But Mei Lin, I need you to be honest with me. Can you stop using the card completely?”
Mei Lin nodded. She’d already cut it up last night, the plastic pieces sitting in her trash bin like evidence of a crime.
“Second,” Mrs. Tan continued, “your family situation. You need to have an honest conversation with your parents. Not asking them for money—I know that’s not in your culture—but explaining that you can contribute S$500 per month for ten months instead of S$5,000 now.”
“They need it now,” Mei Lin said. “My uncle—”
“Is your whole family relying on just you?”
Mei Lin paused. She hadn’t asked. She’d just assumed, because she was single and her brother had three kids and her parents were retired.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
“Ask,” Mrs. Tan said firmly. “You’d be surprised. Often in families, everyone assumes they’re the only one who can help, and everyone is quietly struggling.”
They spent another hour going through Mei Lin’s budget line by line. Mrs. Tan was ruthless but fair, cutting out subscription services Mei Lin had forgotten about (S$47/month for three streaming platforms she barely used), the daily Starbucks (S$150/month), the weekend brunches at trendy cafes (S$200/month).
“You’re not eliminating joy,” Mrs. Tan explained. “You’re eliminating unconscious spending. Have your kopi at the hawker center for S$1.50 instead of S$7 at Starbucks. Meet friends for a walk at East Coast Park instead of brunch. Watch movies at home instead of paying for Netflix, Disney+, and HBO.”
By the time Mei Lin left the office, she had a plan:
Month 1-2: Give parents S$1,000 from savings, commit to S$400/month ongoing Month 1-12: Pay S$600/month to credit card (18 months to pay off S$3,200 + interest) Monthly budget: S$2,800 fixed expenses + S$1,000 debt/family = S$3,800 total Emergency fund: Rebuild starting Month 2, S$200/month into separate account No credit cards, debit only, cash for discretionary spending
It wasn’t perfect. It would be tight. But it was possible.
Part Five: The Conversation
That evening, Mei Lin called her brother.
“Wei Jie, can we talk about Ma and Pa’s situation?”
There was a pause. “Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about that too. Teresa and I can probably contribute S$3,000. I know Ma asked you for S$5,000, but she asked me for S$3,000. I think she’s trying to piece together maybe S$10,000 total?”
Mei Lin felt relief wash over her like cool water. “She didn’t tell me she’d asked you.”
“Classic Ma.” Wei Jie laughed, but it was strained. “Trying to protect everyone’s feelings, ends up making it more complicated. How much can you do?”
“I can do S$1,000 now and S$400 per month for the next ten months.”
“That works. With my S$3,000 and your S$5,000 total, plus I think Ma’s been talking to her sisters… it should be enough.”
After they hung up, Mei Lin felt something unknot in her chest. It wasn’t solved, but it was manageable.
The next day, she met Rachel for lunch at a hawker center instead of their usual restaurant.
“Why here?” Rachel asked, slightly bewildered as they sat at a plastic table.
“Trying to save money,” Mei Lin said simply. “I overspent at Christmas. Need to cut back.”
She expected judgment, but Rachel’s face softened. “Yeah? Me too, actually. I think I’m up to like S$18,000 on my cards now. My parents had to help me out.”
“Rachel, that’s… have you thought about getting help?”
“Like what? Therapy? My therapist is S$200 a session. I can’t afford more therapy.”
“No, like Credit Counselling Singapore. They’re free. They help you make a plan to pay it off.”
Rachel looked uncomfortable. “That’s for people who are really in trouble though.”
“Rachel. S$18,000 is really in trouble.”
They ate their chicken rice in silence for a moment. Then Rachel pulled out her phone. “What was it called again?”
Epilogue: December, One Year Later
Mei Lin stood in the middle of Tiong Bahru Market, the December morning bright and cool. Her phone buzzed with sale notifications—12.12, Black Friday reminders, Christmas promotions. She swiped them all away without opening them.
Her credit card balance was zero. It had been zero since August, and she intended to keep it that way. She still had the card—Mrs. Tan had suggested keeping one for emergencies, but paying it off in full every month—but it stayed in a drawer at home. For daily purchases, she used cash or her debit card.
Her phone contained a different kind of app now: a budget tracker where she logged every expense, a meditation app she actually used, and a shared family calendar where her brother, parents, and she coordinated help for her uncle in Malaysia.
At her feet sat her shopping bags. Not from ION or Paragon, but from the market: a hand-knitted scarf from the auntie on the second floor for her mother (S$25), a vintage film camera she’d found at a thrift store for her father who’d mentioned wanting to get back into photography (S$45), handmade bookmarks with the boys’ names on them for her nephews (S$5 each from a young artist at the weekend market).
Her phone buzzed again, but this time it was her savings account notification: “Deposit successful. Current balance: S$4,200.”
Four thousand, two hundred dollars. It had taken a year of S$350 monthly deposits, of saying no to weekend trips to Johor Bahru, of meal prepping instead of ordering delivery, of walking instead of taking Grab when possible. It wasn’t much—not enough for a down payment on a flat or a new car or any of the big things she wanted—but it was hers. Really hers, not borrowed from future income.
“Mei Lin!” Her mother appeared, her burgundy handbag—the one from last Christmas—still pristine. “You’re early!”
“Wanted to get the fresh vegetables before the crowd,” Mei Lin said. “Come on, I’ll make lunch.”
As they walked through the market together, her mother linking an arm through hers, Mei Lin felt something she hadn’t felt in a long time. Not the temporary high of buying something new, not the anxiety of checking her credit card balance, not the shame of breaking promises to herself.
Peace. Simple, ordinary, unspectacular peace.
Her mother squeezed her arm. “You seem happy lately.”
“I am, Ma.”
“Good. That’s the best gift you can give me.”
Later that evening, Mei Lin would update her budget tracker, logging the S$75 she’d spent at the market. She’d review her financial goals for the new year: continue building emergency fund to S$10,000, start investing S$200/month in an index fund, increase savings rate to 20% of income.
But for now, she walked through the market with her mother, the December sun warm on her shoulders, her wallet lighter but her heart infinitely fuller.
The sales notifications continued buzzing in her pocket, unread and unanswered. She didn’t need to open them. She already had everything that mattered.
The End