Photo prompt #3: Take a picture of the most expensive thing you own.

My student-loan burden is large, but not quite as large as it could have been, thanks to some major generosity from both my parents and my undergraduate institution. Brown gave me a pretty good scholarship — I don’t remember exactly how much, but somewhere between a third and a half of tuition — and my mom basically turned over most of her income to making payments while I was in school.

I still have a chunk of debt from my undergraduate education, but the majority of the balance I’m paying off is from grad school. In retrospect, I wish I’d put a little more effort into getting some outside scholarships or grants for journalism school, because Boston University’s financial support is severely lacking.

Some colleges are now including expected monthly student-loan payments with financial aid letters, which is definitely a feature I wish was around when I was 17.

The mere thought of credit cards causes me to shudder. When I was a kid, my parents had some credit-card debt that they fell behind on, so one of the telephone skills I learned early on during my latchkey years was deflecting bill collectors. So I was always pretty aware of the traps of credit.

Still, I did run up $3,000 in credit-card debt in the summer after undergrad, but that was mostly from paying rent during the couple months before I got my disbursements in grad school. I was able to get a job late that summer to reduce the amount I’d put on the card, and then may have put a couple hundred dollars on it for my “adult wardrobe” — slacks and cardigan sweaters — which I figured at the time would be proof that I’d molted into responsible adulthood. I chipped away at that balance for a couple years by making the minimum payments, and paid it off at the end of 2011. I do not put anything on credit cards at present, and do not plan on doing so.

Dealing with student loans is one of those things that is so anxiety-inducing that you instinctively avoid it, like going to the dentist when you have a toothache. But it is always worse to avoid making the call than to confront it. Once I manage to force through the crippling anxiety, I’ve always been able to get a forbearance or lowered payment when I needed it. Grasping the Sword of Damocles is a little more comforting than just nervously looking at it hanging over your head.

I do want to point out that student debt is the only kind of debt that is not dischargeable by bankruptcy — well, unless a court rules that you are a completely hopeless case, in the vein of a quadriplegic or completely undone by mental illness. This was not always the case. It would be nice if there was some sort of Constitutional challenge to this state of things –- equal protection, anyone? — but I will not hold my breath.

My lifestyle is obviously skewed by living in New York, where paying around half of your monthly wages to rent is considered a “good deal.” Student loans and the high cost of living here definitely mean that I have to keep the belt tightened. But, to be honest, as a child of that nebulous middle to lower-middle class, I don’t think I’ve ever lived in a situation where I wasn’t on a budget. My parents weren’t exactly starving in a garret, but we lived in an apartment, not a house, and money was always a bit tight.

But luckily, I don’t have too many expensive tastes, and I’m living with a frugal Yankee boyfriend who gets very excited at the idea of making dirt-cheap cleaning products out of baking soda and shopping at the nearby (and surprisingly well-stocked) dollar store for dinner.