It sneaks up on you one Costco trip at a time.
You’re walking through the aisles, tossing in paper towels and protein bars, when suddenly you notice something strange: the clothes actually look good. Not ironically, not for the price, but genuinely good. You hold up a jacket thinking, “This actually looks pretty nice.”
That’s when it hits you: you’ve started turning into your parents.
Progressive’s been joking about it for years with those commercials where someone helps grown adults avoid becoming their parents. But honestly, maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Especially when it comes to money.
A few years ago, I thought being good with money meant grinding harder or finding ways to earn more. These days, it feels different. I’m not chasing shiny purchases or upgrades anymore. I’m thinking about value, about stability, about whether something’s worth it long term.
It’s not that I’ve become cheap. It’s that I’ve started seeing through the noise.
Somewhere between the rising prices and the endless “treat yourself” culture, frugality stopped feeling lame. It started feeling smart. There’s a certain peace in knowing where your money goes.
Maybe that’s what growing up looks like. Trading spontaneity for steadiness and realizing it’s not so bad.
I used to roll my eyes when my dad compared gas prices between stations or waited for sales before buying anything. Now I’m the one zooming in on price tags, thinking about unit costs and cashback percentages.
The irony isn’t lost on me.
But there’s comfort in those “boring” habits. They represent a kind of financial maturity that is based on intention. You start realizing that money isn’t just something to spend, it’s something to protect.
Lately, I’ve noticed the same shift in a lot of people around my age. Friends who used to go out three nights a week are now meal prepping. People who once joked about “future me” paying for it later are now saving for that future version of themselves.
Mia, a friend of mine, said it perfectly the other day, “I’m not being cheap. I’m just tired of being reckless.”
It’s not about hoarding or saying no to fun. It’s about saying yes more deliberately.
You start realizing that security is its own kind of luxury.
You stop chasing “new” just for the sake of it. You look at your closet or your phone or your car and think, “This works. I’m good.”
Maybe that’s the biggest sign of financial maturity. Not upgrading because you can, but appreciating what already does the job.
And there’s nothing wrong with that.
The truth is, the economy’s weird right now. Costs are rising faster than paychecks. Most of us are trying to save what we can and maintain stability. But for the first time, we’re doing it with eyes wide open. We’re not waiting for someone to save us from bad money habits. We’re saving ourselves, one Costco sweater and home-cooked dinner at a time.
So yeah, maybe we are becoming our parents.
We compare prices, keep extra grocery bags, talk about interest rates at brunch. But maybe they were onto something all along.
They figured out how to make things last.
And in a world that’s built around spending, learning how to stretch what you have might just be the smartest thing you can do.