I used to believe the best deals were the ones I grabbed fast, and my impulse buying was fueled by those payday and 6.6, 7.7, 8.8 sales.”

“Limited time offer.” “Only 3 left in stock.” “Sale ends tonight.” “Free shipping” “Add more for more discount”

You’ve seen these lines. They’re designed to push us into action, giving us no time to think.

And it works most of the time, right? Waiting for the ‘perfect deal’ can feel wise, but often it’s just procrastination disguised as patience. Learning to distinguish patience from procrastination is something I dive deeper into in my post about hiding from the perfect moment. At least until the package arrives and we realise we didn’t really need it. Or worse, we find the same thing cheaper a week later. That sinking feeling? It’s the cost of impatience. The feeling is fleeting once we get our package. We thought we had finally filled a “void” that had led us to mistakenly believe we needed to buy things to fill it.

The funny thing is, when I look back, I don’t remember most of the things I rushed to buy. But I do remember the moments of regret—the unopened gadget accessories, the shoes worn no more than 50 times, the books that sat unread on the shelf. Impatience has a way of leaving a heavier memory than satisfaction. The feeling of missing out if we don’t buy often leads us to buy impulsively. 

It’s the same pattern we fall into in other areas of life, too. Reacting instead of reflecting, as I wrote about in Why You React More Than You Reflect.

The Delay That Saves Us

One of the simplest money habits I’ve learned is this: delay the purchase.

Not forever, just long enough for the impulse to fade.

When you wait a day—or a week—you give yourself a buffer. You shift the question from, “Do I want this right now?” to, “Will this still matter to me later?”

Most of the time, the answer is no. And in that “no” lies your savings.

I once kept a “one week” list.” Every time I wanted to buy something, I would write it down instead of buying itimmediately. If I still wanted it after a week or two, I permitted myself to go ahead. What surprised me was how quickly most things lost their shine. Out of ten items, maybe one survived the wait. The rest? They were just passing desires dressed up as needs.

The Psychology of Waiting

Impulse spending isn’t just about money. It’s about brain chemistry. When you see something new, your brain releases dopamine, a burst of anticipation and pleasure. Clicking “buy now” rewards that anticipation with instant relief.

But here’s the twist: the pleasure fades fast. The “high” comes from the chase, not the possession. That’s why so many of us feel a small emptiness when the item finally arrives.

Waiting interrupts that cycle. It gives your brain time to settle down. Instead of riding the dopamine wave, you return to clarity. And clarity is what separates impulse from choice. It reminds me of how walking clears the mind for better decisions too, something I wrote about in Walk Your Way To Clarity.

Patience in a World of Speed

We live in a culture where everything moves fast: fast food, fast shipping, fast payments. The message is clear: if it takes time, it’s not worth it.

But money has always been tied to time.

We trade hours of our lives for the dollars we earn. When we spend without patience, we’re not just buying things; we’re trading away pieces of our time without care.

Think about it: if you earn $50 an hour and spend $350 on an impulse purchase, that’s seven hours of your life. Seven hours of meetings, deadlines, or late nights at work, sometimes even on weekends—just for that thing that may not even last.

That thought led me to another reflection: What If We Treated Time Like Money?

Seen this way, waiting before spending isn’t about deprivation. Maybe that’s why slowing down feels uncomfortable because being fully in the present often feels heavier than the past we remember or the future we imagine

It’s about respect. Respect for your money, and for yourself, for the hours of life each dollar represents. If patience teaches us how to spend less, slow living shows us how to spend with intention. I explored this more in How to Align Your Money with a Slow Living Mindset.

The Surprise of Waiting

Here’s the irony: patience doesn’t just protect your wallet—it also makes the purchases you do make feel better.

Think of the last time you bought something after really wanting it for weeks or months. Maybe it was a good pair of shoes, a piece of tech, or a book you’d been eyeing.

That satisfaction? That’s the difference between craving and choice.

When you wait, you test your desire. You filter out the passing wants from the lasting ones. The things that survive the wait become more meaningful, not just because you own them, but because you chose them with intention. Patience isn’t only about money. It shows up in how we move through the world too. In What Walking Long Distances Taught Me About Patience, I reflected on what waiting step by step can teach us.

Stories of Regret and Relief

Not every purchase carries regret, but some do stay with us for years. I wrote about one of mine in The Day I Sold My Luxury Watch and What It Revealed.

I remember buying a watch once because I thought it would “complete my look.” It was shiny, modern, and carried the subtle prestige of a brand I admired. I wore it a few times and worried about it when I did. Then it sat in my drawer for years, a reminder of a rushed decision and a reflection on what was more important during lockdown.

I always told myself I wanted to learn and play the guitar. I bought one, but it was always left untouched, collecting dust:(. I learned to play halfway and I was never consistent.

On the other hand, I once waited six months before buying an Apple Watch. I researched, tried out different models, saved up, and kept asking myself: Do I really want this, or do I just want the feeling of wanting something?

When I finally brought it home, it wasn’t just a purchase—it was a commitment. It served me every day. I used it for walking, running, and tracking my sleep. Years later, I still have no regrets. The waiting made it sweeter.

The difference between those two stories is patience. One ended in regret. The other, in joy. Maybe it’s not about never making mistakes, but about learning to wait long enough to see the difference.

How to Practice “Buy Later”

I still slip. I still get caught by flash sales and clever ads. But more often than before, I pause. I leave the item in my cart. I wait.

Sometimes I come back and buy it. Sometimes I forget about it completely. Either way, I win.

Because regret is the real cost of impatience. And patience is free.

Here are a few small habits that have helped me slow down. They may look simple on the surface, but practising them means choosing intention over impulse—a sign you’re growing into a different kind of decision-making.

1. The 1 week rule – Write it down, don’t buy it yet. If you still want it tomorrow, reconsider.
2. The cost-in-time test – Convert the price into hours of work. Does it still feel worth it? Do you see yourself using, enjoying or benefiting from the purchase? By doing so, you imagine how much freedom or other opportunities you have to let go of, just to get them.
3. Cart therapy – Leave items in your online cart for a few weeks. The desire often fades. Pause whatever it is, very often you don’t need to buy them. Think first, before you react.
4. The one-in, one-out rule – For clothes, books, or gadgets: if you buy one, remove one. This forces you to ask if the new thing really adds value. No point having two phones when most of the time you are using only one. I find myself wearing the same shirts I bought a few years ago. Rent or exchange books or games with your friends.
5. The wishlist trick – Keep a running list of things you want. If something stays on the list for months, it’s probably worth the purchase.

Yes, At The Right Time

The next time you feel the urge to buy, try this: wait.

Wait a day. Wait a week.

If you still want it, it’s probably worth it. If not, you’ve just saved yourself money, regret, and a little piece of your future.

Because patience doesn’t mean saying no forever. It means saying yes at the right time. It’s the quiet confidence that comes from knowing the difference between right now and the right time.

And that’s how you buy less, regret less, and live more.

Waiting before spending is really just choosing to let time slow down. I asked a bigger version of that question in Do You Wish Time to Fly or to Feel Slow?

And here’s the beauty: the money you save from waiting doesn’t disappear. You can redirect it into things that last. An experience, a future goal, a tool for your creativity, or even helping someone else. In the end, patience doesn’t just protect your wallet. It reshapes what your money makes possible. Because when real opportunities arise, the kind that truly matter, this is where your savings give you the freedom to say yes.