How €15,000 of Consumer Debt Was Cleared in Two Years — The Real Story, With Setbacks
This wasn't a motivational reel. There were tears, months of doubt, and one evening when the laptop nearly got closed for good. But it worked. Here's exactly how it happened — step by step, including the parts that went wrong.
February 2024 — the critical moment
A situation you might recognise
Picture someone working as a UX designer at an agency in Dublin, earning €2,800 net per month. For years she lived "normally" — nights out with friends, one holiday a year, a phone on finance, a laptop on instalment. Nothing extreme. Yet in February 2024, when her boiler broke down and a plumber quoted €1,100 for emergency repairs, she didn't have the money. Not a cent of it.
She went onto her bank's website to apply for a personal loan. The form was simple — name, address, amount. She clicked "submit." A few minutes later her phone buzzed: application unsuccessful.
Her hands trembled. She did something she had been avoiding for months — she logged into the credit bureau portal and, for the first time in years, looked at her credit file. What she saw, she later described like this: "It felt like I was looking at someone else. I couldn't believe those numbers were mine."
Bank of Ireland credit card: €6,200 in outstanding debt, paid at the minimum for nearly four years. A personal loan from her early working years — meant to be a two-year term, still €2,800 left with interest. An arranged overdraft on her current account that "had always just been there": €1,700. And then the BNPL arrangements — Klarna, Clearpay, and PayPal Pay Later, which she had treated as "practically free": seven active arrangements totalling €4,300. She added it all up with shaking hands. €15,000.
Her credit score: 312 out of 999 (Experian). Hence the loan rejection. Hence no way to fix the boiler. Hence that evening at the laptop.
She did the only thing she could do in that moment: closed the laptop and went to bed. The next morning was a Tuesday — work, a client call, a standup at nine. Nothing had changed. But something inside her had. That evening, instead of scrolling through Instagram, she typed into Google: "how to get out of debt."
Why hadn't she looked at these numbers for four years? How had €15,000 of debt accumulated without her noticing, despite working full-time and not seeming particularly reckless? The answer has more to do with neuroscience than negligence.
Adam, założyciel Martia
I didn't have this debt — but I know that feeling
After getting married I had six bank accounts and zero visibility — like a CFO without tools in my own home. Not the same debt, but the same feeling: I see pieces, not the picture. I felt responsible for our family's finances and simultaneously had no idea where we actually stood. That's why I built this.
Why debt grows unnoticed — and it's nothing to do with laziness
Consumer debt typically accumulates through a combination of well-documented psychological mechanisms — not through recklessness or a lack of discipline. If this story sounds familiar, there's a reason for that.
The first mechanism is what can be called the invisible debt trap.
The invisible debt trap
The brain handles immediate pain well — if something hurts now, we react. But pain that is deferred in time — an instalment due in two weeks, interest charged next month — is muted by the brain. Psychologists call this temporal discounting: future costs feel less real than present pleasures. That's why "just these monthly payments" on a phone and laptop feel like almost nothing at the moment of purchase — even if together they add up to several hundred euros each month.
Added to this is a second mechanism: the minimum payment anchor effect. When your bank tells you the minimum repayment on your credit card is 2–3% of the balance, your brain treats that as "enough." "I'm paying what's required." The problem is that the minimum was designed by the bank to maximise interest income — not to help you get out of debt.
And then there's the third mechanism, which hit this person directly: fragmented debt. Four different creditors, four different payment dates, four different apps. You never see the whole picture — because seeing it requires actively wanting to look. And a brain practising the ostrich effect (avoiding uncomfortable information) is not going to encourage that.
For four years, she knew she had "a few debts." She never knew exactly how much — because she had never added them all together in one place. When she finally did, she saw €15,000. She hadn't got there by being irresponsible. She had got there by doing exactly what most of us do.
Consumer debt in Europe — the data
Sources: ECB Financial Stability Review 2024, EBA Consumer Finance Study 2023, ECB Consumer Expectations Survey 2023
How the minimum payment trap works — with real numbers
To understand how someone ends up with €15,000 of debt, you need to understand one mechanism. It is simple. It is mathematical. And it is buried by lenders in pages of small print that almost nobody reads.
Credit card: what paying the minimum actually costs you
Take a typical European bank credit card. APR: somewhere between 20 and 28%. In this case, the balance was €6,200. Minimum payment: 2–3% of the balance, so around €124–186 per month.
A hundred and twenty-four euros a month doesn't sound like much. But look at the mathematics:
Minimum payment calculator — a typical credit card
Balance: €6,200
APR: 22.9%
Monthly interest rate: ~1.91%
Minimum payment (2%): €124
Of which — interest: ~€118
Of which — capital: ~€6
Time to repay paying only minimum: over 15 years
Total interest paid: over €9,000
In other words: you would pay €6,200 for the things you bought, plus another €9,000 for the privilege of paying in instalments. Nearly €15,000 for goods worth €6,200 — and fifteen years of your financial life consumed by one credit card.
Why minimum payment is a trap — not a solution
Minimum payments were designed by lenders as a tool to maximise interest income — not to help you escape debt. Each minimum repayment is mostly paying off interest, with only a tiny fraction reducing the principal. That's why after a year of paying on time every month, you can look at your payment history, see twelve transfers — and find that the balance has barely moved.
In this case, the minimum was paid on the credit card for nearly four years. Four years, every month, never late. She believed she was "managing the debt." In reality, over those four years she had handed the bank roughly half the original balance in interest alone — while the principal had fallen by less than a third.
Fragmented debt: why four small debts are worse than one large one
Beyond the credit card, there were three other obligations. Each looked manageable in isolation. The personal loan: "there's only €2,800 left, nearly done." The overdraft: "that's not really a debt, it's just a buffer." The BNPL arrangements on Klarna and Clearpay: "those are tiny amounts, barely noticeable."
But fragmented debt carries a hidden danger: the sum of all minimum payments. She was paying nearly €900 a month in obligations alone — almost a third of her take-home pay. Money that "disappeared" each month before she had time to plan anything else.
When everything was added up on that February evening, she understood two things. First: the problem was bigger than she had thought. Second — and this was more important — the problem was concrete. It had a size, a structure, names of creditors and APR figures. You can fight something concrete.
Don't know your total debt? Martia shows you the full picture.
Martia connects all your bank and fintech accounts — N26, Revolut, Monzo, ING, BNP Paribas, HSBC and more — in one place. Instead of logging into four different apps, you see all your balances and transactions at once. The first step to getting out of debt is knowing exactly where you stand.
The myth that keeps Europeans stuck in debt
There is one myth about debt I hear more often than almost any other. Most people in debt repeat it. In this case, it was repeated for four years.
The myth vs. reality
The myth: "When I get a pay rise (a new job, a bonus, a tax refund), I'll pay off the debts and start saving."
Reality: Research on lifestyle inflation shows that spending rises proportionally to income unless there is an active plan for allocating new money. In other words: a pay rise usually gets spent, not saved — because higher income naturally shifts our perception of what is "available." A 2023 ING International Survey found that 61% of Europeans who received a pay rise in the previous year reported no meaningful improvement in their savings, despite expecting to save more.
In September 2023, a pay rise arrived: €350 more net per month. She was excited. A plan formed in her head: "Now I'll overpay the credit card."
In October, her MacBook finally gave up — five years old, struggling with the new design tools. Replacement: €1,400 on Klarna, twelve interest-free monthly payments. In November, her best friend was getting married abroad and she hadn't been on a proper holiday in two years — flights and accommodation: €680 on PayPal Pay Later. By February 2024, of the €350 monthly pay rise, not a cent had gone toward the credit card. She was earning €350 more a month — and had taken on nearly €2,100 of new BNPL debt.
This isn't a story about someone being foolish. It's a story about how the brain works — and how the financial system profits from that. A pay rise doesn't automatically clear debt. There has to be an active, pre-made decision: "that amount goes toward debt — no negotiation, no exceptions."
Second myth: "I need the perfect plan before I can start"
For the first two weeks after the discovery, she did one thing: read articles. Debt avalanche, debt snowball, debt consolidation, negotiating with creditors. She felt that "once I understand all of this, then I'll start."
Meanwhile, during those two weeks, her credit card accrued another €118 in interest. The plan doesn't have to be perfect to start. It has to be good enough. And it has to start today.
The plan — what getting out of €15,000 of debt really looks like
Here is what she did. Not all at once — this was twenty-four months, one step at a time. I'm describing it in order, including the stumbles, because a plan that skips the difficult moments is useless.
Step 1: Debt inventory — everything, in one place, with interest rates
She made a table in Google Sheets. Four columns: creditor, current balance, APR, minimum monthly payment. Total at the bottom: €15,000. She sorted by highest APR: personal finance loan at 29.1%, Bank of Ireland credit card at 22.9%, current account overdraft at 19%, Klarna and Clearpay at 0% but with expiry dates after which they would jump to 18–25%.
Making that table took 45 minutes and two hours of emotional processing. But from that point, the full picture was clear. There was no longer "I have some debts" — there was "I have €15,000 of debt, of which €2,800 with the personal finance company at 29.1% is costing me the most and that is the first target."
Do this now: Open a new tab and list every obligation you have — credit card, personal loan, overdraft, instalment plans. Write down the current balance and the interest rate (you'll find these in the app or the original agreement). That table is the starting point for everything else.
Step 2: Choosing a method — the Avalanche
There are two widely used methods for paying off multiple debts simultaneously:
Avalanche vs. Snowball — which method to choose
Debt Avalanche (mathematically optimal): Pay the minimum on all debts, and direct every extra pound or euro toward the debt with the HIGHEST interest rate. When that's gone, move the full amount to the next-highest. You pay the least interest overall.
Debt Snowball (psychologically effective): Pay the minimum on all debts, and direct extra money toward the debt with the SMALLEST BALANCE. You see debts disappear from the list faster, which provides motivation to continue. You pay more interest overall, but more people actually finish the plan.
Which to choose? If you have debts with high interest rates (above 20%) — choose Avalanche. If motivation is your challenge and you have several small debts — choose Snowball. In this case, the Avalanche was chosen because the personal finance loan at 29.1% was eating her alive fastest.
Step 3: Freeing up money — the financial review without zero-tolerance cuts
She didn't cancel Netflix. She didn't give up coffee. But she went through three months of spending and found places where "it was easy to save without paying the emotional cost":
- Eating out four lunches a week near the office → batch cooking and bringing lunch three days: −€210/month
- Impulse buys at Tesco Express and convenience shops on the way home → weekly shop with a list: −€140/month
- Gym membership she used twice a month → cancelled, running in Marlay Park: −€65/month
- Amazon Prime (€95/year) → kept, because she saved more on delivery than the subscription cost.
Total: €415 more per month for debt repayment — without dramatic sacrifices. Plus: she sold old photography gear on Facebook Marketplace that had been sitting in the wardrobe for two years. Total: €680, which she threw at the personal finance loan as a one-off payment.
Step 4: Automation — standing order on payday, no "remembering" required
This was the critical step. She set up standing orders: one day after her pay arrived, the overpayment for the priority debt went automatically. She didn't have to remember. She didn't need willpower at the end of the month. The money simply wasn't available to spend.
"Before, I'd wait until the end of the month and transfer whatever was left. The amount varied wildly. Once I set up the standing order for the day after payday — there was nothing to decide. It just went, before I'd even noticed it."
The setbacks — because without them this wouldn't be a real story
In month four, a laptop screen cracked. Repair: €280. The following week, her flatmate's hen do came around — she had been looking forward to it for months, flights and accommodation: €320. There was no emergency buffer. Overpayment on the personal finance loan that month: €0.
"I felt like a complete failure. Like it had all fallen apart. For a week I couldn't look at the spreadsheet."
After that month, the plan was modified. Instead of 100% of the surplus going to the personal finance loan, she started setting aside €80 per month into a separate "emergency" account. Over three months she built €240 there. When in month eight something unplanned came up again — a dental bill, €190 — she didn't have to pause the repayment plan.
A small emergency buffer (even €300–500) running alongside a debt repayment plan isn't a luxury — it's insurance for the plan. Without it, any unexpected cost threatens to derail the whole process.
February 2026 — two years later
The final transfer was €890 — the remaining balance on the Bank of Ireland credit card. It was sent on 8 February 2026. She checked the balance: €0.00. She messaged the online support group she had joined: "I cried. Literally. I felt silly because it's 'just money', but this was two years of daily effort."
Credit score: from 312 to 697 (Experian). Emergency fund: €3,200. Application for a car loan (this time consciously, with full understanding of the terms): approved.
"Now I check my accounts almost every day. I used to be terrified of doing that. Now it's like checking the weather — neutral, obvious, necessary."
Tools that removed the obstacles
Knowledge and a plan are the foundations. But in practice, one of the biggest obstacles to getting out of debt is simple: lack of visibility. Without being able to see where your finances stand, it's easy to slip into "I'm paying the minimum and hoping for the best" mode. The most helpful tools are the ones that remove the friction between intention and action.
Where Martia genuinely helps when getting out of debt
She had accounts at four different banks and fintechs. Seeing the full picture of her finances required four separate logins. In practice — she wasn't doing it. The result: debt grew, because she was only ever seeing pieces of the puzzle.
Martia connects all your bank and fintech accounts — N26, Revolut, Monzo, ING, BNP Paribas, HSBC, Bunq and more — in one place, using secure Open Banking (PSD2) connections. All transactions, all balances, automatically categorised. Instead of logging into four different apps, you see in one screen: your total balance, what you've spent on what, where the money is going.
What helped wasn't magic — it was simply that she started seeing. When you can see that €900 a month is going to debt repayments, behaviour change follows naturally. When you can't see it — it's easy to tell yourself "it's fine, it's being managed."
You don't have to start from €15,000 of debt and a dramatic evening with a credit bureau report. You can start simply: look at your finances in one place, see the full picture — and decide what you'll do with it.
Want a detailed practical guide on getting out of debt?
We've put together a comprehensive step-by-step guide: Avalanche and Snowball methods, interest calculators, negotiating with creditors — everything in one place. Read it here: How to get out of debt — a practical step-by-step guide
Start by seeing — your complete financial picture, in one place
It took an evening with a spreadsheet to see €15,000 of debt in one place. You can see the full picture of all your accounts and transactions in a few minutes — no tables, no four separate logins. Martia pulls data automatically from your bank and fintech accounts and shows them together. The first step to getting out of debt is knowing exactly where you stand.
Martia is bootstrapped — built without investors or a board of directors. Your financial data is yours. We have no one telling us to sell it to advertisers.
Read more
The Ostrich Effect: Why We Avoid Checking Our Bank Balance →
The science behind financial avoidance — and how to stop your brain from hiding uncomfortable truths from you.
How to get out of debt — a practical step-by-step guide →
Avalanche and Snowball methods, how to prioritise debts, and what to do if minimum payments aren't enough.
Present Bias: Why Tomorrow Is Always the Perfect Day to Start Saving →
The mechanism behind financial procrastination — and the micro-commitment method that breaks the cycle.