Mortgage Over Payment – The Little Things That Count
The moment arrived not with a bang, but with the quiet, unsettling feeling of a baby crying in the dark. It was 3 a.m., and while it wasn’t my turn to deal with the little one, my sleep was shot. My partner was up, so I was technically off-duty, but my mind was anything but. Instead of rolling over and forcing my eyes shut, I found myself doing what I often do in the dead of night: looking for a small, productive thing to do. That night, it was a task that had been sitting on my to-do list for months: making my first-ever mortgage overpayment.
I had been excited about this. It was a milestone, a tangible step toward a future that felt both distant and tantalisingly close. For weeks, I had been diligently collecting the money for it, and the time had finally come. I was ready.
Or so I thought. I logged into my bank account, navigated to the right page, and then a wave of mild amusement and a touch of resignation washed over me. I had misunderstood the wording. “Until the 28th,” I had read. My brain, in its brilliant, pre-caffeinated state, had interpreted this to mean the payment could be made on the 28th. Turns out, it meant after the 28th. Here I was, at 3 a.m. on the 28th. The words had tripped me up, as they so often do, and I just had one more day to wait. I closed the app, let out a small, silent sigh, and went back to my life, a little bit amused by the entire affair. It wasn’t a setback, just a delay. A very, very slow-burn delay.
Why This Matters
When you get a mortgage, you are essentially signing up for a very long, very committed relationship with a bank. It’s a decades-long commitment to debt, and for many, it can feel like an anchor. For me, it has always been a source of low-level, simmering anxiety. Even with a relatively low monthly payment of £292, thanks to a substantial deposit, I still felt the weight of it.
Over the years, I’ve heard a lot of financial gurus and money pundits preach the same gospel: “Don’t pay down low-interest debt! Invest your money instead! The returns will be higher!” On paper, they’re right. The maths makes perfect sense. But here’s the thing about personal finance: it’s personal. It’s not just about what makes the most sense on a spreadsheet. It’s about how it makes you feel.
And I really, truly hate debt.
So, I’ve had to make a compromise between the two worlds. I am still investing, but I am also actively, intentionally chipping away at that mortgage. This isn’t just about paying a bill; it’s a deliberate act of choosing to reduce my fixed costs, a foundational principle of my journey towards financial independence. It’s a way of slowly, surely, untangling myself from the financial obligations that hold me tethered to a traditional working life. Every little bit I pay off feels like a small act of rebellion against a system that wants me to stay in debt for as long as possible.
The Magical Feeling of a Tiny Number
The following night, the moment came again. I had the money ready, and this time, the app was ready for me. I hit the button and watched the payment go through. It was £1,750, a number that felt significant to me, a number that represented months of conscious saving. The result? My monthly payment was reduced by exactly £8.41.
It’s a tiny number, isn’t it? It’s about 2.8% of my monthly mortgage payment and a mere 0.56% of my total expenses. By any measure, it’s insignificant. But I couldn’t help but stare at it with a stupid, beaming smile on my face. That number felt absolutely magical. It wasn’t just a number on a screen; it was a physical representation of something I had done for myself. It was the first time I had ever actively, tangibly reduced my own debt. It felt like I was bending reality just a little bit. That single payment, born of my own choice, had a permanent impact on my future.
This is why I think this process is so exciting. My regular mortgage payment feels like an obligation, a chore. It’s a necessary evil. But this? This was a choice. A deliberate decision to take control and make my own rules. It was the difference between being a passenger on the debt bus and being the one who gets to decide how fast it goes. And that feeling of agency is worth so much more than what the spreadsheet says.
The Happy Habit That Got Me The Mortgage Overpayment
The money I used for this overpayment didn’t come from a sudden windfall or a bonus. It came from a much simpler, much more boring place: a system that was so easy I barely noticed it.
My bank, Monzo, has a round-up feature. For those unfamiliar, it takes the spare change from your everyday purchases and puts it into a savings pot. For example, if I buy a croissant for £1.30, it rounds it up and sends 70p to a separate account. My partner and I, in a moment of financial geekery, had turned on the 10x multiplier. Now, that croissant sends £7 to the pot. It’s a game-changer. It’s passive and so small-scale on a day-to-day basis that you don’t even notice the money leaving your current account. But it adds up. Over time, all those little round-ups from countless coffees and groceries and bus tickets amounted to a nice little pot of money.
The rest of the funds came from my own personal habit: the payday sweep. At the end of each month, after all the bills are paid and some buffer money is left, I take whatever is remaining in my current account and sweep it into a separate, dedicated savings pot. This isn’t money I’m budgeting; it’s just the leftover cash from a month of intentional spending. By putting it into a separate account, it’s no longer just “extra spending money.” It’s now “dedicated money for a specific goal.” It removes the temptation to spend it and makes it feel like it’s already on its way to a better purpose.
It’s an almost entirely automated system, built on a foundation of minimal effort. The round-ups happen on their own. The leftover cash is put somewhere it can’t be spent. It’s not about discipline or willpower; it’s about creating an environment where money goes where it’s supposed to go without you having to think about it every day. It’s a very slow-burn approach, and it feels a lot more peaceful than constantly trying to hustle for every spare pound.
Making a Compromise with Debt
While it might seem counterintuitive, my choice to focus on reducing my monthly payments rather than shortening the mortgage term is a core part of my financial strategy. I’m aware that by not shortening the term, I will likely pay more interest over the long run. The math tells me this.
But my gut tells me something else entirely. My gut tells me that having lower fixed costs is the ultimate security blanket. In a worst-case scenario—if mortgage rates were to skyrocket, if I were to lose my job, if the cost of living went through the roof—a lower monthly payment is a life raft. It gives me the flexibility to navigate unexpected storms without panicking. It’s my minimalist version of financial planning. It’s about reducing my financial obligations so that if the worst happens, I still have a roof over my head.
This isn’t about being lazy or taking the easy way out. It’s about psychological safety. It’s about building a life where I can breathe a little easier, knowing that my baseline expenses are as low as possible. It is a strategic move to prevent lifestyle inflation and to maintain my current outgoings even as I continue to earn more. My future self will take that £8.41 and direct it to my investment pot, but I’ll feel no difference in my budget. I’ll still have the same money available to me each month, and it’s that consistency that provides the greatest peace of mind.
This approach is my personal version of Financial Independence. It’s not about paying off the mortgage as fast as possible, but about making it as small and as insignificant as possible, so that one day, my income from investments will easily cover it. The goal isn’t to escape the debt; it’s to render it irrelevant.
Gentle Questions for the Road
I’m still using the round-up feature and the payday sweep to build up my over payment fund. I’m not obsessing over the numbers or trying to beat the system; I’m just letting the slow-burn system do its thing. That first payment felt like a huge first step, but now it just feels like part of a peaceful, ongoing process.
- What small, consistent action have you taken that has had a surprisingly big impact on your finances or your peace of mind?
- Have you ever gone against common financial advice because it just felt right for you? What did you do, and what was the result?
- Where in your life do you feel the most pressure to “do what you’re supposed to,” and what would it look like to do something a little different instead?