Let me guess—you’ve downloaded the budgeting app, color-coded the spreadsheets, and broken your monthly expenses down into about seventeen different categories. Groceries, dining out, gas, subscriptions, impulse Amazon purchases labeled as “miscellaneous” (because denial is powerful)… you get the idea.
I did that too. For years. I thought I was being responsible. And to be fair, I was trying. But somewhere between the $6 oat milk lattes and my anxiety over “going over” in the dining-out category by $23.17, I realized: this system wasn’t helping me feel more in control. It was just making me feel bad.
So I stopped.
No, I didn’t stop budgeting. But I stopped budgeting by category. And that one change completely reshaped how I think about money, motivation, and the kind of life I actually want to fund.
Here’s what I do instead—and how you might find a better rhythm, too.
But here’s what I noticed: instead of giving me peace of mind, categorizing created friction.
I’d feel guilty for overspending in one bucket—even if I underspent in another. I’d spend way too much time just trying to figure out where a purchase fit. (Is this dinner with friends “food” or “entertainment”? Why do I feel like I’m cheating on my spreadsheet?)
It also made my finances feel unnecessarily rigid. I wasn’t building flexibility into my budget—I was building rules. And when I inevitably “broke” one, it didn’t exactly motivate me to keep going.
Eventually, I realized something crucial: budgeting is a tool for clarity and calm—not shame or stress. So I went looking for a simpler, more intuitive way.
What I do now is far less granular—and far more effective. Instead of micromanaging categories, I organize my budget around three main areas:
This framework gives me clarity without the clutter. It helps me stay aligned with what I actually care about, not what I think I should care about. And best of all, it’s easy to maintain.
I check in weekly. I glance at my numbers and ask myself three things:
No more guilt over spending too much on coffee or travel, as long as my priorities are in check.
Systems that feel natural are more sustainable. If your budget feels like a battle, it’s not the right structure—it’s the wrong framework.
Most of us aren’t trying to be CFOs of our personal finances. We just want to know what’s going on—and feel good about the choices we’re making. This method works because it simplifies decision-making. Instead of tracking 20+ categories, I focus on the big three. I know exactly where my money’s going and why.
It also gives me permission to adjust month to month. If I want to spend more on travel one month, I can. I just make sure my goals are still getting funded. No spreadsheets needed.
You don’t need a hyper-detailed breakdown to make strong financial decisions. You just need intention and consistency.
Here’s the breakdown of how I actually manage my money now—zero spreadsheets required.
I still use a budget app, but now it’s more of a tracker than a taskmaster. It reflects my values, not just my receipts.
I’m not here to say this method is the only way. But if traditional budgeting has left you feeling burnt out or boxed in, a priority-based system could be the game-changer you didn’t know you needed.
Because here’s what happens when you budget based on your actual life:
Plus, you’ll still hit your goals. In fact, you may hit them faster—because you’re not wasting energy tracking things that don’t matter.
And for the record: this isn’t about being perfect. It’s about being present. A good budget should meet you where you are—and help guide you to where you want to go.
No system is foolproof. Here’s what I had to learn the hard way when switching to this approach:
Think of this approach as flexible structure. Not too loose, not too tight. Just right.
If you already have a budget, try simplifying it this way for one month. See what happens. It might surprise you.
Great question. Life throws curveballs. Travel, car maintenance, vet visits, gifts, weddings—none of it fits neatly into a monthly model.
Here’s what I do: I keep a “seasonal cushion” fund. It’s a mini-savings account that I contribute to monthly, just for unpredictable or once-in-a-while stuff. It’s not labeled for any one thing. It’s just there to help life feel less like a financial emergency.
It also means I don’t have to carve out a “birthday gifts” line item in my budget. (Because wow, that was a level of micromanagement I did not need.)
Don’t just save for emergencies, save for events. Life is better when you’ve already pre-paid for the chaos.
You don’t need to be a financial expert to get better with money. For me, letting go of category budgeting gave me the mental space—and emotional clarity—I didn’t even realize I needed. I stopped obsessing over pennies and started focusing on purpose.
And that shift? That changed everything.
We’ve been taught to think of budgets as something we have to do. But what if your budget was something you got to design? A tool that helped you fund your actual life—not some Pinterest version of it?
This method may not be the flashiest. It won’t win spreadsheet competitions. But it will help you feel clear, capable, and calm.
And in my book? That’s the smartest kind of money move there is.
