‘I was too poor to buy decent food’ – how illness triggered years of financial struggle

Life after university was good for Julia Ogden. She was living in Brighton, building a reputation as an up-and-coming artist, and she was in love. Little did she know, a series of events completely beyond her control was set to derail her life and her finances.

A devastating diagnosis

Julia met her partner a couple of years after gaining a master’s degree in art from the University of Brighton. They fell in love and quickly moved in together, splitting the bills and planning their future. But six months after signing the tenancy agreement on their first home, Julia’s partner was struck down with ME (myalgic encephalomyelitis). Overnight, he was unable to work, and Julia became the sole breadwinner.

A relationship under strain

Their finances quickly became unsustainable, forcing them to move out of their flat and live apart - Julia lodging in Brighton, and her boyfriend moving back in with his mum in Kent.

Despite being difficult, the separation allowed Julia to cut costs and save a small deposit for a home in West Yorkshire, where she had grown up, and property prices were lower. Using her savings and an overdraft, Julia scraped together £7,000, bought a house in Sowerby Bridge and moved back in with her partner.

But even making the modest monthly mortgage payments proved to be a struggle. Most days, Julia commuted to her retail job in Leeds - another financial strain – then spent her spare time working on her art.

Her partner’s illness and her heavy workload were taking a toll on their relationship. She explains:

“It depressed him. And he felt guilty and awful. I think it took away his confidence. And then I felt resentful and frustrated, and just like I was working all the time. And I suppose it affected our relationship, in that we just didn’t have any spare time. Or I didn’t have any spare time, and he had too much spare time, so it was just a complete imbalance.”

A mis-sold mortgage and other mistakes

Failing to settle in the north, the couple moved back down south, something Julia now calls a “stupid decision”.  She used the money from the sale of the house in Sowerby Bridge as a deposit on a flat in Worthing. Looking back, she questions whether she should have been allowed to borrow as much as she did.

“Because I had that big deposit, I could get a mortgage with no looking at your books or anything.”

Reflecting on the broker she used, she says:

“He was just very good at getting mortgages and didn’t really mind if you overstretched yourself, you know, didn’t think about the consequences of what he was getting you.”

Soon after moving into their new place, the regular income Julia had relied on from a publishing company that bought her art dried up almost overnight.

“They said, ‘Your work’s not selling, we can’t buy any this month,’ and it just stopped.”

Living on the edge

The financial pressure became relentless. Julia was still working in retail, while trying to sell her art and keep up with an increasingly unaffordable mortgage.

Late payments became the norm. Management fees on the flat piled up, and Julia and the other residents in her building eventually lost a tribunal case to challenge the charges, leaving her even further behind.

“I think that was the nail in the coffin for me."

In the end, Julia was forced to rent out the Worthing flat, while she and her partner moved back up north and lodged at a place in Hebden Bridge.

Determined to get a grip on her finances, Julia set about upskilling.

“I decided to do my teaching course. I thought, I’ve got to do something to earn some more money.”

So now, on top of working three days a week in an art gallery and squeezing in her own painting whenever she could, Julia was going to lectures and completing teaching placements.

The beginning of the end

Lodging was saving the couple money, but it wasn’t doing their mental health much good. Their housemate proved difficult, apparently taking pleasure in deliberately antagonising Julia’s partner. She says the situation in the house had reached “crisis point” by the time she finished her teacher training.

Struggling to secure teaching work, Julia and her partner separated again - she moved back in with her parents up north to recover financially and emotionally, while her boyfriend moved back down south, retraining in podiatry.

“We were going to do long distance with a view that I was going to move back down when I could afford. I just needed a bit of recovery time, and I kept applying for jobs down south because, obviously, I had a teaching qualification now… but I didn’t get any jobs down there.”

This probably spelt the beginning of the end for Julia’s relationship. From that point, they would never live together again.

Dealing with her debt

The years that followed were marked by constant hustle for Julia: living in substandard accommodation, surviving for weeks at a time on plain pasta, teaching, working in a gallery, designing and selling wedding stationery, building up her reputation as an artist and slowly chipping away at her debt.

“I just had to literally suck it up that I was absolutely poor as anything. Like too poor to buy decent food.”

At her lowest point financially, Julia owed £17,000. By 2017, after six years of scraping by, she’d finally cleared it.

During those years of financial hardship, she never sought professional support with her debt:

“I never really knew what was out there, I don’t know why. I didn’t get any help.”

Debt, shame and being taken advantage of

It’s possible that the stigma of debt was one of the reasons Julia never asked for help.

One of the most dangerous aspects of financial hardship, she reflects, is the shame. She recalls a landlady who charged her for the entire building's electricity bill.

“I was so embarrassed that I could hardly pay what was on the paper, I didn’t question how massive the amount was.

“We were paying for her heating and her electric for three years.”

The fear of asking questions, she believes, cost her thousands, whether it was utilities, leasehold fees or being pressured into lowering the price of her flat by estate agents she’s now convinced were working for the buyers.

“If I’d been less stressed and fearful, I would have questioned that or pulled out of the sale.”

Starting again and another setback

Julia’s turning point came when she rented a studio in Hebden Bridge and started running her own art classes. Slowly, her income began to stabilise.

She learned to say no to work that didn’t serve her, gave up unprofitable side jobs and focused on what mattered most. But even then, life wasn’t done testing her.

Just as she was about to buy a home, there was a devastating fire in the building housing her studio. Her workspace suffered irreparable water and smoke damage.

“Everything was just covered in like this black mulch stuff… It looked like Stranger Things, you know that underworld? Black, lumpy stuff over everything.”

To make matters worse, she had no contents insurance.

“When I moved in, I had no money… I could hardly live, let alone buy insurance.”

But the community rallied, organising crowdfunders and offering space for her to keep teaching.

This support allowed her to get back on her feet within a matter of months, and her professional life continues to go from strength to strength.

“Hebden Bridge is an amazing, supportive community."

You're not alone

Julia’s story shows how easily even the most promising futures can become financially precarious - illness, an unexpected drop in income, bad luck can have ripple effects that last for years. But it also shows that recovery is possible.

And, unlike Julia, you don’t have to do it alone. If you’re struggling with unmanageable debt, we’re here to help - you may be surprised at just how much support is available.