What poverty really feels like: the truth nobody talks about

The quiet stress you carry everywhere

Poverty isn’t loud.

It’s silent, slow and steady.

It’s the tight feeling in your stomach when you look at your bank balance.

It’s checking the meter and hoping the number doesn’t drop too fast.

It’s smiling through conversations while your mind is somewhere else, doing the maths.

One Skint Dad reader told me they used to sit in the car before work, adding up what was left in their account because they were scared they wouldn’t make it through the week.

That’s the kind of stress that never leaves your body.

The mental maths running in the background

Poverty forces your brain to work overtime.

You plan, adjust, stretch and juggle constantly.

You think things like:

• If I put £10 in the meter, will I still have enough for bread and milk?
• If I skip lunch today, can I get through the week?
• If something breaks, what am I supposed to do?

Someone once messaged me saying they always worked out the food shop in their notes app first, so they wouldn’t feel embarrassed putting things back in the aisle.

That’s the reality: quiet, hidden maths that runs all day.

The everyday moments nobody talks about

These aren’t dramatic scenes.

They’re tiny moments that stay with you for years.

One mum told me she would pick something up in the supermarket and then quietly put it back before reaching the till, pretending she’d “changed her mind” so her kids wouldn’t notice.

Another person said they avoid the school WhatsApp chat because every trip, dress-up day and fundraiser fills them with worry.

Someone else told me they heat their home for 20 minutes, then leave the oven open while cooking just to stretch the warmth a bit longer.

These are the details people rarely talk about.

But they’re happening everywhere.

The shame that shouldn’t exist

Poverty comes with a shame you don’t deserve, but you feel it anyway.

It’s saying no to small things your kids ask for.

It’s pretending you’re “busy” when you can’t afford the petrol.

It’s hiding how stressed you are because you don’t want anyone to see you struggling.

One dad shared that he stopped meeting friends because he didn’t want to be the person who couldn’t get a round in.

You shouldn’t feel ashamed.

But poverty has a way of making you believe you’re the problem.

You’re not.

A moment from my own life

I’ve had those days where I stood at the checkout in a shop, counting every coin in my hand and hoping I’d got the maths right. I’ve had nights where I stared at the ceiling, worrying about the kids, the bills, everything.

There was a point where every noise from the letterbox made my heart race.

I’d pretend I hadn’t heard it.

I wasn’t being lazy, I was scared.

Those memories stay with you.

When things slowly started to shift

Nothing changed instantly.

There wasn’t one magical fix.

But things started to move the day I stopped hiding from it.

The day I opened the letter instead of pushing it aside.

The day I asked for help, instead of trying to deal with everything alone.

Life didn’t get easier overnight.

But I felt lighter.

And that made room for things to get better.

You are not the only one

Poverty makes you feel like everyone else is coping except you.

That’s not true.

People all over the country are juggling bills, skipping meals, stretching food, worrying about kids’ school costs, and trying their best in a system that makes life harder than it should be.

Good people.

Hardworking people.

People who deserve better.

If you’re struggling, it’s not because you’ve failed.

It’s because things are tough.

And anyone in your situation would feel the same.

A small next step

(Only one. Not all of them.)

• Open one letter

• Check one bill

• Move one direct debit

• Speak to one person you trust

One small step is enough to start shifting things.

A final word from Skint Dad

I know what poverty feels like.

The worry.

The shame.

The exhaustion of pretending to cope.

The nights where sleep won’t come.

But I also know this: you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.

You’ve survived days, weeks and months that would break some people.

You keep going even when life is unfair.

And that strength matters.

Poverty doesn’t define you.

It doesn’t decide your worth.

And you’re not facing it alone.