The elusive Life Changing Purchase

How I'm letting dopamine hits control my life (and my finances).

I’m always chasing the Life Changing Purchase (LCP). I’m scrolling Amazon, Etsy and Depop the same way a gambling addict sits at a slot machine. I win some, but I lose more. But it’s the wins, the LCPs, that keep me pressing the button. Sometimes it happens, and I hit the dopamine jackpot. Maybe it’s the perfect water bottle, a Scrub Daddy or an optimal storage solution.

Every time I make an LCP, my brain decides that making purchases is the key to happiness and success. In the past year, there have been a few decent LCPs: a new laptop, an ereader various ebooks, an eye cover, skin care products, and a new handbag. There’s also been countless failed attempts to make a LCP, also known as Wastes of Money.

What makes an LCP?

There’s a few criteria for an LCP:

- it has to become a daily fixture in my life

- it makes me feel like I’ve succeeded at something

- I feel like it is the optimal product choice

- it has to solve a problem, and

- most of all, it gives me the most extreme dopamine hit that makes me think the solution to all my problems is purchasing more things.

One thing that never comes into my mind when assessing a potential LCP is the cost/benefit ratio. I only think about how much the purchase will change my life or suit my goals, rather than how much time I had to spend to earn the money to make the purchase. It’s all about the potential rather than the reality.

Most purchase are not LCPs. Sometimes you mentally break even with a purchase, and sometimes you wish you could get a refund. The success of my purchases creates a form of intermittent reinforcement, where the rewards (LCPs) are given sporadically and unpredictable. Each time I scroll shopping websites, I’m drawn in by the anticipation and excitement of potentially making an LCP. Dopamine is released when we get the reward and in anticipation of it. That’s what keeps me coming back every time I’m feeling bored or low.

Intermittent reinforcement isn’t always bad. Sometimes intermittent rewards can be a nice surprise, like bumping into a friend on the street, taking a nice photo, or buying a dress that fits you perfectly. The problem is when we create unhealthy patterns to seek out those rewards, and when profiteer manipulate our psychology to take advantage of our brains.

Amazon fuelled addiction

My kryptonite is Amazon. I can have anything within 1-2 days. All with a frictionless one click to buy. Also the purchases often don’t feel permanent, as I can cancel before it ships.

With Amazon, I don’t need to find the time to go to a shop that stocks the specific thing I want. I don’t need to wait 7 days or more for an order from another online store. It’s also a very private addiction. The only people who see the boxes pile at the door are my housemates.

As a vegan, I prioritise ethical food and product choices that avoid animal exploitation. But when I make a purchase on Amazon, I’ll admit that I don’t think about the humans they exploit. According to a survey of Amazon workers in a Long Island warehouse, 42% reported physical pain during working. In 2024, The Independent reported that Indian warehouse workers were made to agree not the take drink and toilet breaks. I know that we shouldn’t blame the consumer, but you could argue that my Amazon purchase support a morally bankrupt company.

I’m a shopping addict but I also have ADHD

My ADHD has a lot to answer for in the LCP department. Every new hyperfixation needs LCPs, even if the hyperfixation itself does not strictly require any purchases.

When I started learning Spanish, I couldn’t stop with getting lessons and watching some videos. I had to buy a new desk, flash cards, notebooks and textbooks. Instead of realising that my success depended on hard work and study, my brain searched for shortcuts to success on Amazon.

Recently I decided that I wanted to start writing poetry. I bought multiple poetry collections, how to books, and new notebooks. I also started a website, thinking the domain name was an LCP. Less people are reading my poetry website than my Substack. I haven’t moved on from the poetry. But it’s not really a hyperfixation that breeds LCPs.

One of the biggest drivers for my spending sprees is the *what if* and who I will become by making the purchase. Buying poetry books automatically make me a person who writes poems, but it feels like it gets me a little closer to being that person.

How am I working on my shopping addiction?

One of the main ways I’m trying to pull myself away from the allure of the LCP is reading and writing about consumerism. If I pretend to be someone who doesn’t try to trade money for feelings, maybe I’ll become that person. I can be someone that hates consumerism even if I’m still a victim to it.

I’m also focussing on creating more and consuming more intentionally. I could get more dopamine out of writing or reading a good Substack than buying a handmade laptop sleeve on Etsy. Sometimes I make little zines with handmade collages. When we can get four people into a room, I play music with my band. And I’m still trying to write poetry.

My therapist told me I need to delay the purchase. The idea is that eventually I delay to the point that I don’t make the purchase at all. I’m still pretty rubbish at this. Especially when I can see a shiny LCP.

I’m trying to recognise the patterns of my consumption. I know I make purchases when I have a new hyperfixation. But I also spend up when I’m just flat out bored. I’m working on replacing the dopamine seeking behaviour of online shopping with more useful alternatives, like reading and writing.

Overall, I think I need to realise that the LCP is an illusion. Sometimes I do my research and find the perfect product that changes my life. But did the product really change my life, or was it what it allowed me to do? Recently I bought a new laptop. This was a necessary purchase as my old laptop was barely holding it together. Was the laptop an LCP, or is the ‘life changing’ element that it helps me write? Did I really need a new handbag, or do I think it’s an LCP because it gave me a dopamine hit?

Maybe I’ll never have the answers to what’s behind my shopping addiction. But for the sake of my balance, I am going to work it out.