There’s a peculiar kind of wisdom in juggling loans alongside bills. For some, it’s an unnecessary burden, a debt trap waiting to swallow the careless whole. But I believe otherwise: when handled wisely, loans can light a fire under one’s feet, pushing them harder and faster toward dreams and goals they might otherwise dawdle about. It’s pressure, sure—but sometimes, pressure is what keeps us alive and kicking.
I’ve seen it in myself. The first time I signed my name on a loan agreement, my palms were sweaty, my heartbeat pounding like an amateur drumline. The thought of owing someone money terrified me. But the moment the funds hit my account, I didn’t feel like someone sinking into debt; I felt like someone had given me wings—and maybe a bit of firepower to boot. Every bill and every repayment date circled on my calendar became a reason to get out of bed earlier and stay up later. The fear of failure, of defaulting, of shame, was the whip I needed when my usual motivators—like self-improvement or even the love of family—weren’t quite enough.
There’s something about the concrete finality of debt that makes you take life seriously. When you know the collector will come knocking if you slack off, laziness feels like a luxury you can’t afford. I remember a friend of mine, a tricycle driver, who took out a loan to buy a second-hand multicab. Before that, he was content to take five, even six breaks in a day, chatting with his barkada by the corner sari-sari store. After the loan? He was out at sunrise, chasing passengers like a man on a mission. He paid off that multicab in record time, and his daily grind turned into a habit even after the debt was cleared.
Now, I get it: some will argue it’s risky, and they’re right. Borrowing is not for the faint-hearted or the faint-minded. If you’re careless, that fire under your feet can burn you to a crisp. I’ve seen people lose sleep, relationships, and even their sanity because they took on too much debt without a plan. But the same is true of a machete—it can clear a path or it can cut you. The key, I’ve found, is respect: respecting the weight of the loan and your ability to carry it. It’s not for everyone, but for those who can keep their balance, it’s a tool, not a trap.
Oddly enough, loans teach discipline. They force you to think long-term, to make sacrifices, to say no to fleeting pleasures in exchange for something bigger down the road. I used to love dining out, buying things on a whim, and indulging in small luxuries I “deserved.” But when you owe money, you start counting every peso. The latter becomes a sachet of instant coffee; the weekend getaway turns into a walk at the plaza. Something is humbling, even cleansing, about that kind of self-control. It’s like forced minimalism, a reminder that most of the things we think we need are just distractions.
Of course, loans also give you something to look forward to—an endgame. That motorcycle you’re paying off, the tuition for your child, the business you’re building—all of it becomes a tangible reason to push through the hard days. One of my neighbors borrowed money to start a small eatery after years of just selling meriendas from a cart. I’d see her working late into the night, the glow of her stove lighting up the small corner of her borrowed lot. Her loan wasn’t just a debt; it was a stake in her dream. Today, her eatery feeds half the barangay and employs people who once dismissed her idea as a gamble.
Still, it’s not just the dream that drives you—it’s the fear of falling. There’s no safety net with loans. If you don’t pay, there’s no sweet-talking the collector. And that fear, as harsh as it sounds, has its uses. Fear makes you creative. It makes you resourceful. When the usual income sources dry up, you learn to improvise, to hustle harder. A deadline hanging over your head sharpens your mind like nothing else.
But here’s the thing: while I believe loans can motivate and even transform lives, they shouldn’t be taken lightly. Borrowing should be a calculated risk, not a blind leap. We need better financial literacy—more awareness about interest rates, payment schemes, and contingency plans. Because in the end, loans are like fire: a source of light and warmth when handled with care, but a consuming blaze if left unchecked. If we approach them with respect and strategy, they can be a tool for growth, not a burden to bear.
