A few weeks ago, I was planning a trip to Singapore with a friend. Excited, relaxed, already imagining the coffee walks and hotel mornings, I opened Booking.com to book our stay.
I tried paying twice with my credit card. Declined. Annoyed but not worried, I switched to PayPal — the “easy” option.
Big mistake.
I was supposed to pay around RM1300+. I ended up paying RM1800+ and the thing is you don’t see the total charged by PayPal until the transaction is completed. The worse part it was a non – refundable booking due to the close check in day, what was a good deal ended up being a costly mistake.
The shock hit instantly. But what surprised me most was this:
I wasn’t outraged at PayPal. I was outraged at myself. Not because PayPal “did something wrong.” Although an almost $100 difference is very high if you asked me but I took responsibility for it, that was the best way for me to deal with the blow.
But because I already knew using their services for a while now. I knew PayPal was expensive. I knew their conversion rates were brutal.
I knew that even sending money through them costs significantly more than alternatives like Western Union, where I can move money for less than $2 in transaction fees and from your phone.
Yet in that moment, convenience won.
That moment forced me to sit in pain with a hard truth:
We don’t lose money because financial institutions are predatory and they are don’t get me wrong. We lose money because we enter financial relationships unconsciously.
Every bank, fintech company, and payment platform exists for a specific reason. They are built with a specific user in mind. And they are designed to reward certain behaviors while quietly penalizing others.
PayPal is fast, global, and frictionless. It thrives on speed, emotional decisions, and urgency.
Western Union is slower, less “sexy,” but transparent and cheap for transfers.
Neither is good or bad. They are simply different tools for different intentions.
The problem begins when we confuse familiarity with trust.
Most of us don’t ask:
- Why does this service exist?
- Who is it designed for?
- How does it make its money?
- What behavior does it reward in me?
Instead, we click. We accept. We pay. And later, we feel shame, frustration, or regret.
This is not a money problem. This is an awareness problem. Money demands presence. It punishes unconsciousness — not out of cruelty, but as feedback.
The moment I stopped blaming PayPal, I gained something far more valuable than the money I lost:
clarity.
From now on, every financial tool I use must earn my trust — not through branding or convenience, but through alignment.
Because wealth doesn’t grow where attention is absent. Wealth begins with awareness.
With love,
Salima
