Do you feel like budgets just don't work for you? It sounds easy, and maybe I'm too nonchalant about the ease of budgeting. I keep a detailed ledger of my household spending. It helps me predict and monitor expenses. But many of my clients reject the idea of budgeting because they’ve tried it before and “failed.”
But, I have a skeleton in the closet. So, let me share my own “budget” struggle. While tracking spending is second nature to me, recording what I eat is an epic failure. I know I should log my meals, yet 90% of the time, I don’t. I keep getting back on the horse—only to fall off again.
Eventually, I started to wonder: how can I tell clients to track their spending when I can’t even track my food?
For me, logging food feels emotionally exhausting. I notice hunger easily—it distracts me from work. If my stomach’s growling, I can’t focus. Some people forget to eat; meanwhile, I’m hungry for lunch by 11 a.m.
When I hit my mid-50s, my body changed. My only real hope is to eat simple, homemade food—soups, salads, Greek yogurt, oatmeal, fruit. My body, a descendant of generations who survived famine, seems designed to hoard calories and never forget a meal.
I’ve tried Noom, MyFitnessPal, even little spiral notebooks. I’ve found finance notes with calorie counts scribbled in the margins next to formulas for annualized returns.
That frustration—the self-criticism and feeling of “failing”—is probably what my clients feel when they can’t keep a budget.
Both a food log and a budget are about self-awareness. And sometimes that awareness feels painful. I’ve learned that I eat more than I wish I did, and that can feel discouraging. As I’ve aged, I’ve actually gotten hungrier. Google confirms it: hormonal changes in middle age can increase hunger. Maybe there’s an evolutionary reason for that. If my blood work looks good, maybe that’s what matters most.
Still, our society tends to equate midlife weight gain with failure.
The same thing happens with budgets. Midlife spending simply costs more. I still have one child in high school and two in college. We pay for car insurance, which has climbed dramatically. Our property taxes and home insurance have nearly doubled since 2017. Health insurance for our family of five is now over $2,500 per month, and even EZ-Pass bills spike from endless college visits. Like my food log, my budget often reflects realities that are hard to change.
So, how can I shift my mindset about my food log? Maybe I can take my own advice—the same I give clients about money:
Make it simple. Since I’m cutting back on phone use, maybe a paper log is best.
Build in reflection. Schedule time to review it at the end of the day.
Celebrate small wins. This week I made soup from leftover veggies—a savings and a healthy meal.
Notice patterns. I crave sweets after dinner; awareness helps me curb it...sometimes.
Acknowledge strengths. I exercise regularly—that’s progress.
Honor what’s working. I quit wine and coffee months ago. Occasionally I slip, but how good I feel without them always brings me back.
Coffee was the hardest habit to break. I loved the taste and the energy boost, but even one cup made me anxious and disrupted my sleep. Now I drink tea—it offers just enough caffeine without the side effects.
At this stage of life, I can’t fight nature too much. Call it self-compassion or just realism: I have a lot to do, and I can only fight so many battles. If hunger distracts me, so be it.
When I look at my budget, I realize I’d be overwhelmed too if I were starting from scratch. So much is outside my control.
If you’ve “failed” at budgeting, maybe you just haven’t found the right system for you. I’ve tested plenty of apps and spreadsheets, but I always return to my own simple version—an Excel or Google Sheet with dates in the left column, spending categories across the top, and a monthly tally of totals. I track projected versus actual spending and categorize expenses as:
No control (taxes, insurance)
Some control (utilities, groceries)
Full control (discretionary spending)
Recently I’ve added a daily productivity sheet where I list priorities, schedule tasks, and—at the bottom—note what I ate. Maybe it’s a small way to stay mindful, both financially and physically. And if I slip? Maybe it’s enough just to be honest with myself.
I tell clients not to beat themselves up about spending. Awareness is the real goal. Once you start paying attention, control follows naturally.
Maybe that’s the lesson for both budgets and food logs: awareness first, change second.
I’ll keep trying—and I’ll let you know how it goes.