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Dorchester Center, MA 02124

Late fees and interest on credit cards were things I never had to worry about growing up. I don’t say that to brag—I say it to acknowledge that I lucked out. I was fortunate enough to live at home during college and even for a while after graduating. When a lot of people start their adult life juggling student loans, rent, and credit card debt, I walked into the working world with a clean slate. No debt. No monthly loan payments. No credit card balances spiraling out of control.
Because of that, credit card interest was more of a concept than a real financial threat. I understood logically that the banks make billions off interest and late fees, but it was always something that happened to “other people.” People living paycheck to paycheck. People juggling bills. People struggling with inconsistent income. I never imagined that financially comfortable adults—especially those making well into six figures—would fall into the same trap.
But a recent conversation with a coworker reminded me that late fees and interest aren’t just about how much money you make. They’re about habits, awareness, and how small lapses can turn into costly patterns.
One day at work, I was telling a coworker about a credit card promotion—one of those targeted offers that can be genuinely useful if you know how to navigate them. We were comparing benefits when they pulled out their credit card. Out of curiosity, and wanting to make sure they’d qualify for the promotion, I glanced at their balance.
That’s when I noticed it.
A $40 late fee.
And right under it, a line of monthly interest charges.
At first, I assumed it was a one-time slip. Maybe they missed a payment date because life got busy. It happens to everyone. But when I looked closer, it became clear that those fees had been showing up every month. Late fee. Interest charge. Repeat.
I couldn’t help but ask:
“Hey, why are you paying late fees and interest?”
Their answer?
“Oh, my spouse used my card.”
I’ll admit—I had to pause for a second.
Because… what does that have to do with paying the bill?
It doesn’t matter who used the card. It’s still your credit card. Your statement. Your payment due date. Your credit score. And ultimately, your financial health.
I wasn’t trying to judge. But I was genuinely shocked. This coworker makes over $90,000 a year, and their spouse earns a solid income as well—combined, probably over $250,000. And yet here they were, paying the same fees that banks profit off from customers who are financially struggling.
It made me rethink something I hadn’t thought about before:
Late fees aren’t a poor-people problem. They’re a human-behavior problem.
Most people assume that once you earn a certain amount, you’re immune to problems like interest charges or accidental debt. But higher earners aren’t magically better at managing credit—they often just have more room to absorb mistakes.
That’s a dangerous mindset.
Because when you have the income to “not feel” a fee, it becomes easier to ignore the consequences. A $40 late fee might sting for someone living paycheck to paycheck. But for someone earning $250,000 combined, it barely registers. And that’s the problem—the lack of financial pain removes the motivation to fix the behavior.
For the banks, though?
That lack of motivation is pure gold.
Billions are made off people who could pay off their balances but don’t—
not because they can’t, but because they simply don’t pay attention.
My coworker’s situation got me thinking: how many people are quietly losing money this way?
When I started asking around, the answer was:
More than I expected.
Here’s why it happens—even to people who logically know better:
People assume bills are on autopay… until they’re not.
Or they switched cards.
Or a card expired.
Or they moved banks.
All it takes is one missed link in the chain for fees to pile up.
People with demanding jobs often prioritize everything except checking their statements.
They figure: “I’ll deal with it later.”
But later doesn’t come.
Bills are long.
Fees are small line items.
Interest looks like a harmless little number tucked somewhere in the middle.
You can stare at a statement and still miss the costly parts.
$40 feels like nothing when you’re making six figures.
But $40 every month?
And the compounding interest?
That’s money thrown away year after year.
Just like my coworker said.
But again—it doesn’t matter who spent the money.
The responsibility is the same.
The bank isn’t calling your spouse.
They’re calling you.
Late fees and interest aren’t accidents or side effects of modern banking.
They are a primary revenue stream.
Banks thrive on the assumption that people—regardless of income—will slip up:
One late payment can cost you:
And when that behavior repeats?
That’s hundreds of dollars a year in lost money.
Multiply that by millions of customers, and you begin to understand why banks fight so hard to keep late fees high.
I’m not pretending I’ve never made a mistake. I’ve paid a few late fees years ago—nothing major, but enough to annoy me. But the reason those fees didn’t become a recurring problem for me was because I didn’t grow up with debt.
Living at home after college gave me breathing room. I had financial clarity early on:
When you don’t have monthly bills piling up, the idea of paying fees feels unnecessary and almost offensive. So I stayed disciplined. But I also realize now that discipline came from not being overwhelmed by financial stress.
Not everyone has that luxury.
Something surprising happens when people make a high income:
they start believing they’re “above” small financial mistakes.
But in reality, they’re often:
Late fees rarely come from lack of money.
They come from lack of attention.
And often, they come with a strange mix of guilt and embarrassment. People don’t talk about it because they feel like they should know better. And that silence keeps the problem going.
The moment my coworker said, “Oh, my spouse used my card,” I realized something important.
Some people mentally distance themselves from their own credit card because someone else is physically using it.
But the bank doesn’t care about:
All the bank sees is:
If you miss that due date—your credit score takes the hit.
Not your spouse’s.
Not your kids’.
Not your roommate’s.
Not your parents’.
Yours.
That’s why financial boundaries matter, even between spouses.
People underestimate how fragile credit scores are.
Just one late payment—over 30 days late—can drop your score by:
And it stays on your report for seven years.
Even if you pay off the balance the next day, that late payment sits there like a stain.
This is why the fees aren’t the worst part.
The long-term credit damage is.
Because a lower credit score leads to:
A single late payment can cost someone tens of thousands over their lifetime.
But people don’t think about that when they brush off the monthly statement.
Whether you make $30,000 or $300,000, the solution is the same.
Here are the habits that actually work:
This prevents 95% of late payments.
Most credit card due dates are the same every month.
Get ahead of them.
Usage is fine.
Ignoring payments is not.
Even a 10-second glance helps you notice:
This keeps you aware of spending and prevents surprises.
Most banks waive your first late fee if you ask politely.
That one moment at work opened my eyes.
I used to think late fees mostly affected people who were struggling financially. Now I realize they affect everyone—just for different reasons.
The banks aren’t profiting because people are poor.
They’re profiting because people are:
It doesn’t matter how much money you make.
It matters how intentional you are.
Late fees and interest on credit cards are like tiny leaks in a boat. You barely notice them at first. But over time, they can drain your money, your score, and your financial momentum.
My coworker’s situation was a reminder that financial mistakes don’t discriminate. They can happen to anyone—high earners included. What matters is learning how to catch these leaks early and build habits that keep your finances airtight.
Because at the end of the day, credit cards are tools.
And tools can either build your future—or chip away at it quietly, $40 at a time.