The Invisible Nissan

When Adult Debt Pulls Up Without a Warning

There’s no car in my driveway. No fresh keys. No dealership photo moment.

And yet, somehow, I’ve been making payments like I financed a whole vehicle I’ve never seen.

That’s what adult debt feels like.

So I named mine:

The Invisible Nissan.

Not because I’m irresponsible—but because the numbers don’t always tell the story. Sometimes the biggest expenses are the ones you never planned for.

Where It All Started

Some of this debt came from trying to build.

In 2023, I was laid off—and it shook everything. I had just purchased a home. I was furnishing it, covering gaps, trying to maintain some version of stability while the ground underneath me kept shifting.

There were no wild shopping sprees or luxury vacations. Just groceries. Bills. A few self-care attempts I could barely enjoy. The kind of spending you don’t notice until the balance is louder than your peace.

Then the student loans came back—right on schedule.

Like they were waiting for the moment I started breathing again.

The Pressure of Being “Put Together”

No one really talks about how expensive it is to look like you’re okay.

To be presentable. To keep showing up.

To be the one who “has potential” while quietly patching together broken plans.

There’s pressure to bounce back fast, to look unbothered, to still grow a business or show up on social media like you’re thriving. Meanwhile, debt is stacking behind the scenes and you’re just trying not to fall apart publicly.

And the wildest part? So many of us are in the same boat—pretending like we’re driving something better.

How I’m Reclaiming Power

The first thing I did was name the weight.

Not “my debt.” Not “my failure.”

Just… The Invisible Nissan—because if I have to keep paying for something, I at least get to define it.

Then I broke my goals down. Not just financially, but emotionally.

• What do I need to feel free again?

• What does stability actually look like for me?

• What habits keep me from spiraling when money feels tight?

I built a plan that includes rewards, grace, and structure.

I’m not starving myself of joy. I’m building a system where joy and progress can coexist.

Every $500 paid off comes with a treat. A smoothie. A meal. A walk with my dog. A reminder that I can do hard things without losing myself.

If You’re in the Same Spot

If you’re quietly drowning in credit card balances, rent increases, or student loans that feel like a joke at this point—I see you.

You’re not lazy.

You’re not behind.

You’re just carrying things you were never really equipped for—and still showing up anyway.

So name your Invisible Nissan.

Then start walking it down. One step, one payment, one mindset shift at a time.

We didn’t ask for the weight.

But we can choose how we carry it.