I graduated from college with over $200,000 in student loans. Here are the things I wish I could've told my younger self about debt.

• When I graduated from college, I had over $200,000 in student loans.

• Financial institutions started to collapse, and I had to change my expectations overnight.

• I'm not ashamed of my debt, even though I'm yet not debt-free.

I remember the last time financial institutions began to collapse.

I was a first-year law student in New York City expecting a prestigious summer internship at a large law firm, which I would turn into a high-paying associate position at the same firm, which I would use to gain valuable experience and the funds to begin my adult life, which I would parlay into following my passions and becoming successful and receiving the respect and adoration from people whose opinions I thought mattered.

At 22, that's what I expected. But it's not what happened.

Instead, the Great Recession caused employers to restrict hiring, freeze salaries, and delay start dates. My classmates fought over the jobs that were left.

I graduated with more than $200,000 in student-loan debt, underemployed in an unplanned area of practice and unable to meet my minimum monthly payments without a Band-Aid from loan forbearance just so I could make rent. I billed to the bone to make negative dollars. I wasn't sure I'd ever succeed — by anyone's measure, let alone the high expectations I'd set for myself.

This isn't a sob story, though — at least not anymore. I am in a much better place financially, professionally, and emotionally. I even wrote a book about it.

Here are the things I wish I could tell the girl who worried she'd never dig herself out.

All degrees are not created equal, and almost none of them are a guaranteed meal ticket

This is not a statement about rankings but rather about what degrees mean to the students pursuing them. Admittedly, I did not know enough about being a lawyer before enrolling in law school. I attended because it set another benchmark for a high-achieving person who did not know who she wanted to be. Do your best to identify what the return on your investment will be. In other words, the price you pay for a degree should be commensurate with what you can reasonably expect to achieve in your career.

If you're not sure what you want out of it, then you should be pursuing an affordable option that won't place you at a financial disadvantage when starting your adult life.

It wasn't just my fault

Calculated risks look different to prospective students in their early 20s who believe they can rely on employment statistics and salary-band charts provided by admissions offices. But they are running a business. Their marketing materials feature data that you want to see.

I did not have any context beyond the information vacuum in front of me. And for those eager to blame shift from institutions to young people, I'll remind you of the housing crisis of 2008, where homebuyers fell victim to predatory lending practices. Yet younger people — students — were supposed to "know better."

For a long time, I felt worthless. But you can take responsibility for your actions without casting a cloud of shame over yourself, which will prevent you from moving forward.

The finish line is becoming financially free — not debt-free

I used to fantasize about winning a $200,000 lottery, writing that check, popping Champagne, and running away to a deserted island. But that's the least dynamic thinking possible. I won't criticize supersavers who choose to make extreme sacrifices to pay off their student-loan debt, but it's far from the only option.

Financial freedom lives in your ability to identify, quantify, and prioritize your goals and then begin to achieve them. The debt-to-income ratio is key.

I refinanced my student-loan debt privately with a bank that shaved hundreds of dollars off my monthly payments. As my income increased, my debt became an amount my household could easily digest every month.

Now we choose to prioritize other goals, like our cash reserve that affords us flexibility and security, over writing one big check the way I once dreamed of. My student-loan debt is now just another bill — not the problem I thought would ruin my life.

Law school wasn't the end of me — it was just the beginning. But I wish I didn't have to start my career this way. No one should have to, and no one will if financial education begins earlier.

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