Fasting Is Cheaper. That Actually Matters.

People fast for weight loss. For health. For mental clarity. All valid. But there’s one reason that gets less airtime, and for me right now it’s one of the most real: it costs less to not eat.

When I posted about my fasting journey on a Swedish forum recently, some responses were well-meaning but missed where I’m actually at. Someone recommended an expensive daily meal replacement routine — multiple servings a day, every day. I get the logic. But recommending a costly daily product to someone actively trying to cut expenses is a bit like telling someone with a broken-down car to lease a new one. The intention is fine. The read on the situation isn’t.

Where I came from

Before any of this, I was piecing together work however I could. Call center during early covid. Seasonal admin jobs. Fill-in shifts at various offices. It wasn’t stable, but I was single, my expenses were mine alone, and I could manage.

Then I got my autism diagnosis. And the office I’d been filling in at for years on and off — that turned into something more permanent, around 2021. Suddenly I had consistent income for the first time in a while. Predictable. Manageable.

So I saved. Quietly and deliberately. Enough for two trips to the Philippines. Enough to bring my wife home. I covered everything — flights, costs over there, everything here when we got back. It felt good to be able to do that.

What changed

Having a family is expensive. That sounds obvious but you don’t fully understand it until you’re in it.

My wife is new to Sweden. She’s been learning the language, studying, navigating systems that aren’t exactly designed to be straightforward for someone new here. For close to three years I’ve been the one with income. Her, me, and our son who turns two soon.

When he was born, my wife was still waiting for her residency permit. The hospital billed us over 90,000 kronor. I paid it. I’m still angry about it. It felt unfair then and it still does. That’s not a small number — that’s money I’d saved up, gone in one hit because of paperwork timing.

Since then: I was relocated to another city for work. The commute takes a real cut of every paycheck. I’m working 75% because the preschool told us our son does better with shorter days — that’s the right call for him, and it’s one I’m okay with, but it means less coming in. Last winter the electricity bills were brutal for months running. Northern Sweden in a cold winter with a toddler at home — you don’t cut corners on heating.

Every month for a stretch there, my account went down.

What I can actually control

The hospital bill already happened. The commute is what it is. Energy prices are what they are.

Food is one of the few things I can directly influence.

When I’m fasting, the spending just stops. No groceries for those days. No snacks. No small purchases that feel like nothing but add up over a week. It’s not a dramatic saving per day — but over weeks and months it’s genuinely meaningful when you’re watching every outgoing.

I’m also quitting snus in the coming weeks. Cold turkey. That’s another daily cost that quietly drains you, and it’s gone.

What I actually want

I want my wife to be able to study without financial stress hanging over her. I want her to save her own money — for what she needs, what she wants, and maybe eventually for a family trip back to the Philippines so our son can meet her family there properly. That matters more to me than my food budget.

We’re building something. It’s slower than I’d like sometimes, and the last few years have been genuinely hard. But fasting costs nothing, it’s working, and right now that combination is hard to argue against.