How I Saved $10,000 in a Year on a Minimum Wage Job

If you had told me a year ago that I’d be writing a blog post about saving $10,000 in one year, while working a minimum wage job, I probably would’ve laughed in your face.

I mean, let’s be real. Minimum wage barely feels like enough to survive, let alone save. But here I am, not rich by any means, but $10,000 better than I was last year. And I did it without winning the lottery, getting a raise, or eating nothing but ramen noodles (though, trust me, ramen did make several appearances).

This isn’t some fancy finance bro advice, and I’m not gonna throw complicated budget charts at you. I just want to tell you how I did it, raw, real, and straight up, because if I can do it, I promise, you can too.

The Rock Bottom That Lit a Fire

Let me set the scene: I was 24, working part-time at a grocery store making $11.25 an hour. My shifts were all over the place, and my feet hurt all the time. I lived in a tiny studio apartment with paper-thin walls and a leaky ceiling. My fridge was mostly empty, and my bank account was usually hovering near zero by the end of the month.

Then one day, my card declined at the checkout line, for a $6 purchase. I don’t even remember what I was buying. Probably toilet paper or something equally boring. But what I do remember is the burning shame in my face when the cashier whispered, “It didn’t go through.”

That moment broke me. But also, it built me. I remember walking home in the cold, tears stinging my eyes, thinking, “I can’t keep doing this. I need to get my life together.”

That night, I sat on my bed (which was actually a futon) and made a promise to myself: No matter what, I was gonna save $10,000 in a year.

Step 1: Facing the Ugly Truth

The first thing I did was figure out where the hell my money was going.

I pulled up my bank statements (after avoiding them for months) and highlighted every single expense. I categorized stuff, food, rent, subscriptions, random Amazon purchases, vending machine snacks (seriously, I spent $58 on vending machines in one month. Yikes).

I cried a little. Then I made coffee and kept going.

Here’s the painful truth: I was broke, but I wasn’t helpless. I wasn’t earning much, but I was bleeding money in small, dumb ways.

That was my wake-up call. So I made my very first budget, not a spreadsheet, not an app, just a notebook and pen.

Step 2: Getting Ruthless With Spending

I didn’t cut everything out, but I cut deep. Here’s what I stopped paying for:

Monthly subscriptions: I canceled Netflix, Hulu, Spotify Premium. Yeah, it sucked. But libraries exist and YouTube is free.
Takeout: No more $12 burritos or $5 coffees. I started meal-prepping pasta, rice, beans, and eggs like it was my religion.
Impulse shopping: I deleted shopping apps off my phone and unsubscribed from every “50% off today only!” email list.
Gas: I sold my old clunker of a car and started biking everywhere or using public transport. It wasn’t glamorous, but it worked.

Suddenly, I was saving $400–$500 a month, without making more money. Just spending way, way less.

Step 3: Making Every Dollar Work Overtime

When you’re working minimum wage, every dollar has to pull double duty.

Here’s what helped me:

Cash envelopes: I split my cash into envelopes labeled “food,” “bills,” “fun” (a tiny one), and “savings.” When the envelope was empty, that was it.
Rounding up: Every time I made a purchase, I rounded it up in my head and moved the difference to savings. If I spent $7.30, I moved 70 cents into savings.
Saving first: On payday, I put $150 into a separate savings account before I did anything else. No “I’ll save what’s left.” There was never anything left. So I flipped the script.
Side hustles: I babysat, sold old clothes on Depop, helped neighbors with yard work. If someone offered me $10 to walk their dog, I said yes.

Some months I saved $600, some just $300. But I never stopped. I never let a single month go by without putting something aside.

Step 4: The Tiny Wins That Kept Me Going

Saving money isn’t glamorous. There’s no confetti when you bring rice and beans to work for the 12th day in a row. But I learned to celebrate the tiny wins:

The first time I had $1,000 in my savings? I cried. Happy tears this time.
The first time I turned down an expensive night out and didn’t feel FOMO? Huge.
The day I bought a used coat for $10 instead of $120? Victory lap.

I kept a journal. Not a fancy one, just a beat-up notebook where I wrote down every milestone, every breakthrough, and even every “oops” moment.

Real Talk: It Wasn’t Always Easy

Look, I’m not gonna lie to you.

There were nights I wanted to say screw it and buy fast food because I was tired and sad and hungry. There were mornings I dreaded biking to work in the rain. There were times I envied my friends with higher-paying jobs or family money.

But I kept reminding myself: I’m not doing this forever. I’m doing this to build something better.

Every time I looked at my growing savings, I felt stronger. Like I was building a future with my own two hands. No handouts. Just hustle.

What I Learned (That No One Taught Me in School)

Here’s what saving $10,000 taught me:

Discipline isn’t about being perfect, it’s about getting back on track after you mess up.
Budgeting is self-care. Seriously. It gave me peace of mind I didn’t know I needed.
Frugality isn’t shameful. It’s powerful. It’s choosing long-term peace over short-term pleasure.
Money doesn’t buy happiness, but not being broke sure helps your mental health.
You don’t have to earn more to start saving, you just have to want it bad enough.

Finally

You don’t need a high-paying job to save. You need a reason. A “why” that’s stronger than your excuses.

For me, it was wanting to stop feeling stuck. Wanting to build something, anything, that felt like hope.

Now, I’m not saying this will be easy. It’ll stretch you. You’ll have moments where you question if it’s even worth it. But I promise, it is.

Saving $10,000 didn’t just change my bank account. It changed how I saw myself. It made me realize I’m capable of so much more than I ever gave myself credit for.

So if you’re reading this, and you’re struggling, and you feel like it’s impossible, just know, I see you. I’ve been you.

Start small. Be scrappy. Stay hungry (figuratively, not literally, I still ate, okay?). And don’t quit.

You got this.

If you made it all the way to the end of this post, I want you to know something: I believe in you. Even if we’ve never met. Because if I can claw my way out of a $6 card decline, you can do big things too.

Got questions or your own story? Drop it in the comments, I’d love to hear it.

🙏 And if this post helped you, share it with someone who needs a little hope right now. We rise by lifting each other.