Credit card baby

Youngish, free-ish and single-ish. That is how I would describe myself and the majority of my unmarried friends. While I don't envy those who are tied down with kids and mortgages and whose only thread of conversation is what they made their husband for dinner the night before, what my "settled-down" friends forget is that being single doesn't mean you can carry all your belongings on your back and wander off into the world at the drop of a hat.

Nope, I have a baby of my own. When I was 18, I made a huge mistake that has haunted me for the rest of my adult life. In fact, I made five mistakes and, like an unplanned child, that mistake is likely to follow me for at least 18 years. I blame the fact that I was a student living away from home for the first time, with a huge passion for shopping. Yes, I naively signed up for five credit cards after I had spent all my rent money in Topshop.

OK, so I am comparing my debt to having a baby; but hear me out. I'm sure being a mother is the most delightful of experiences (but one I hope not to find out about for a good few years) but it does limit your spontaneity. You need a regular income, you need to take into account babysitters and you can't feasibly backpack around Asia for the next eight months. Due to my credit card, I have the same sort of dilemmas — apart from the babysitter problem, of course. I just use a wallet to look after mine.

But having a credit card was a huge responsibility and I just wasn't aware how much it would impact my life at the time. At the same time, even though it has caused me a lot of grief and stress, I have had some of the best times of my life thanks to those lovely little bits of plastic. I've seen some of the world and bought some really nice dresses.

But the point is, while you have debt, you are never free. When I split with my boyfriend, everyone told me to enjoy my freedom. It sounds tempting. I got caught up in movie-esque ideas of having amazing adventures in the most exotic of places. I imagined I would be glad I was no longer "tied down". Perhaps I would meet the love of my life in Mongolia or end up becoming a Buddhist nun in Bhutan.

But, because I am a responsible credit-card owner, I stayed here doing the exact same things as before — except that I bought a few more dresses to help cheer myself up a bit. Sometimes I resent my credit card for the responsibilities it has made me have to face up to — after all, because of it I may never meet that hot Mongolian shepherd I would have otherwise. But then when I step into that Reiss sale and know I can buy that pretty black dress just by handing over my pretty plastic baby, I remember just why it was that I had it in the first place.