The Therapy of Fixing
- The Cheap Mom
- Feb 10
- 2 min read
Because Who Needs Convenience Anyway?

There’s nothing quite like the feeling of realizing something in your house is broken. The sheer joy of knowing you now have two choices: buy a new one like a normal person or channel your inner 1950s handyman and spend an afternoon fixing it yourself. Obviously, I choose chaos—I mean, repair.
Now, sure, repairing something takes time. Sometimes way more time than you thought. You’ll probably need to find a screwdriver that somehow vanished into the abyss of your junk drawer. Then, of course, you’ll watch five conflicting YouTube tutorials, because apparently, there are seven different ways to fix a loose stove button and every DIY expert insists their way is the only way. But once you finally get down to it, something magical happens.
Somewhere between unscrewing, rewiring, or gluing your fingers together, a weird sense of peace kicks in. The world quiets down. The notifications stop buzzing (because your hands are covered in grease). Your brain shifts gears from stressed-out adult to focused problem-solver. For a few glorious minutes (or hours, depending on how deep you’ve gotten into this mess), you’re in the zone. It’s just you, your broken thing, and your stubborn refusal to give up.
And then—the moment of truth. You put it back together, hit the switch, and… nothing happens. Perfect. But you try again, and this time, it works! And suddenly, you feel like an actual genius. NASA should really give you a call.
Sure, you could have just spent $50 on a new one and called it a day. But where’s the personal growth in that? Fixing things isn’t just about saving money (though, let’s be honest, that’s a huge bonus). It’s about proving to yourself that you can. It’s a little rebellion against the disposable world we live in. It’s therapy disguised as productivity.
So, the next time something breaks, resist the urge to click “Add to Cart” immediately. Give it a shot. Worst case? You’ll spend an hour swearing at tiny screws and end up buying a new one anyway. But best case? You’ll walk away with a fixed thing, a clearer mind, and just a little more belief in your own ability to figure things out. And that, my friend, is priceless.
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