Hi, I’m Kristie (KB) — an empath, middle sister and my mom’s only planned child (aka The Nightmare Before Christmas). Gen X Scorpio Mama Bear – raised on mixtapes, sarcasm and survival, I specialize in emotional triage and telling the truth with love — and just the right amount of side-eye.

I didn’t come from money — but I came equipped with instinct, intuition and the ability to love loud in systems designed to quiet us. I’m here to ask for help, but not without sharing the full, messy, beautiful truth.

We did what parents are told to do: encouraged our daughter to follow her passion, get the degree and trust that the money would work itself out.

It didn’t. It went feral. And. ​As her parents, part of that... is on us​.

We should’ve done more homework. We should’ve understood the difference between federal and private loans — especially the ones from Sallie Mae, which sound like federal aid on the surface but come with none of the protections. No forgiveness. No income-driven plans. Just glossy branding, predatory fine print, and a future buried in compounding interest.

But the world had just shut down.

We were operating in full delulu survival mode — a little numb, a little desperate, clinging to structure where there was none. We were working from home, homeschooling an eighth grader, comforting a grieving high school senior as her entire world — soccer, prom, graduation — disappeared in real time… and helping our oldest move into her very first apartment.

We told Poetrie to keep going. To enroll in college anyway. To believe this was just a season and that brighter days were ahead. But the truth is: we were navigating a once-in-a-lifetime global crisis with no manual, no map, and no margin for error.

We weren’t trained for that kind of chaos.

No one was.

And. We own that.

Now, we’re watching the last scraps of student loan relief get shredded — as policies shift and the current administration's playbook takes direct aim at borrowers like Poetrie. Even federal protections are hanging by a thread. For private loan holders, there never was solid ground to begin with.

Some debts don’t belong on a credit report — they belong in a eulogy.

IN LOVING MEMORY OF OUR SANITY

(aka Poetrie’s Student Loan Debt)

Sunset: May 3, 2025 — the day she finally got to walk

On May 3, 2025, Poetrie walked across the stage in her college cap and gown. She never got to walk for high school graduation in 2020 — the pandemic stole that. So this walk? It was layered. Bittersweet. Sacred.

She walked for herself. For us. For the ones who couldn’t be there — her grandmother (my mom), lost to COVID and her best friend, taken in a tragic car accident. She carried all of us across that stage — grief in her chest, grace in her spine and ghosts at her back. She walked for the girl she used to be — before the world cracked open.

It should’ve felt like freedom.

Instead, it felt like lighting the graduation sparkler and realizing the house was still on fire.

The tassel turned.

But the debt didn’t lift.

It clung. Louder. Heavier. Still there.

It is with fake joy and genuine rage that we announce the continued undead existence of Poetrie’s student loans — federal and private — …which refuse to die, despite all efforts — legal, financial, and emotional — to finally lay them to rest.

The federal portion currently rests in temporary purgatory under an Income-Driven Repayment plan at $0/month — an act of grace that will, of course, require re-certification like some kind of bureaucratic Hunger Games.

But the true demon here?

The private loans.

Spawned from the unholy union of Big Promises U and Sallie Mae the Soul-Snatcher, later adopted by SoFi and raised with all the warmth of a tax audit and the charm of a Scorpio moon in a revenge arc.

Despite Poetrie graduating with a Bachelor’s and three minors — and dedicating her career to supporting adults with developmental disabilities, one of the most underpaid and undervalued roles in our society — her debt persists like glitter in a carpet: loud, permanent, and haunting every corner of her financial future.

Attempts Were Made

All met with the same warmth as a Mercury retrograde in your second house of money.

Cause of Near-Death

Survivors Include

IN LIEU OF FLOWERS

You can donate directly here on GoFundMe — every bit helps.

If you feel called to help and you’d rather go straight to the source of the suffering, you can make a payment directly to SoFi in Poetrie’s name.

To do that, DM me for the account details and step-by-step instructions. We’ll send a thank-you note. Possibly a candle. Maybe a spell jar. We’re flexible.

We mourn the dream of fair repayment.

We celebrate the audacity to keep fighting anyway.

Because some debts don’t belong on a credit report — they belong in a eulogy.

If you made it this far, ​thank you for holding space for our story. If you want to understand the full picture — costs, context, all of it — welcome to the Addendum.

ADDENDUM

For the Curious, the Skeptical and the Spreadsheet People

Poetrie attended a private Catholic college. Tuition alone runs about $38,400/year and with housing, meals and fees, the total cost is closer to $50,000 annually.

She was there for four years and one additional semester and while my husband and I both work full-time, our income was just high enough to disqualify her from substantial need-based aid… but nowhere near high enough to cover tuition out of pocket.

She qualified for some scholarships and also played collegiate soccer. She even put her name in the NCAA transfer portal and was picked up to play in England — earning a captain’s armband during preseason in Spain. Eventually, she went on to play professionally in Manila, Philippines.

But here’s the truth about women’s sports:

The passion is there. The paychecks aren’t.

She couldn’t support herself on what the league offered — and like so many young athletes, she returned home with more grit, more experience, and still… the same mountain of debt.

In 2022, during her 2nd year of college, Poetrie lost her best friend in a tragic accident. Her world cracked open. She changed majors, battled mental health challenges and took an extra semester just to keep going.

And. Here’s something many people don’t know — and that we didn’t fully understand until we were doing panic-driven research post-graduation:

Sallie Mae used to be federal.

It was created in 1972 as a government-sponsored entity to manage federal student loans. But starting in 1996, it began to privatize — and by 2004, it became a fully private, profit-driven corporation. After the federal FFEL loan program ended in 2010, Sallie Mae stopped offering federal loans altogether.

Which means: any Sallie Mae loan taken after that — including Poetrie’s — is 100% private. No forgiveness. No income-driven repayment. No federal protections. Just predatory terms dressed up in familiar branding.

So no — she didn’t take out loans to party or drift through college. She took them out to survive, to play, to process grief, to grow and to finish.

We’re not hiding from the cost.

We’re not hiding from the truth.

We’re just trying to outlive the debt — with honesty, humility and hope.