From January 1, 2026, Bulgaria officially became the 21st member of the euro area. The first days after the currency change have produced a mix of emotions: a sense of “historic promotion” and greater stability for some, and anxiety for others about higher prices, confusion at checkouts, and the straightforward question of whether everyday life will become less affordable. In the background, the political conflict over the country’s direction continues, along with a deep skepticism about whether institutions will truly enforce fair conversion and pricing.
For many Bulgarians, the most immediate realization has been that the economy has lived with the euro’s shadow for a long time anyway. The lev was pegged to the euro for years, so the conversion did not feel like a sudden macroeconomic earthquake. Yet the practical reality changed overnight: prices, salaries, invoices, and cash transactions began switching into a new unit of account. The fixed conversion rate is 1 EUR = 1.95583 BGN, set at EU level, and this figure quickly became the most repeated number in the country’s public conversation. In everyday life, the first days have largely been a period of adjustment, especially in small businesses and smaller towns, where people often continued thinking in leva and preferred to wait for the first full wave of payments and benefits arriving in euros to feel the shift in a tangible way.
Supporters of the euro have framed the change as more than economics. In their view, the common currency is part of completing Bulgaria’s European trajectory, a signal that the country is becoming more firmly anchored among states perceived as stable and predictable. Alongside this symbolic dimension, there is a geopolitical argument that resonates strongly in the region: adopting the euro is presented as another “Western lock-in,” reinforcing Bulgaria’s pro-European orientation and making it harder for hostile influence to exploit divisions. Beyond these strategic narratives, there is also a practical promise—simpler travel, easier price comparison across borders, fewer currency-exchange costs, and greater predictability for companies operating internationally.
The strongest fears have not disappeared; they have simply moved from forecasts to daily monitoring. Price increases remain the central worry. Even in the opening days of 2026, Bulgarian media and public debate highlighted complaints about suspicious price jumps in certain products and services, especially where consumers suspected opportunistic rounding-up under the cover of currency conversion. These stories have accelerated a culture of vigilance. Consumer advocates and commentators encourage people to report unjustified increases to the relevant watchdog bodies, while many citizens remain doubtful about how quickly penalties will be applied in practice, especially if cases become bogged down in appeals.
Social emotions are therefore split between pride and resentment. Protests and political clashes over the euro were visible before January 1, and they have not vanished; they have shifted tone. The debate is now less about whether Bulgaria should have joined and more about who will benefit, who will pay the costs, and whether the state will defend ordinary households against abuse during the transition. For some, the euro represents a stabilizing future; for others, it feels like a decision imposed from above, one that could erode living standards or symbolic sovereignty even if macroeconomic arguments are more nuanced.
Ultimately, the national mood will be shaped not by speeches but by everyday transactions. The coming weeks will test whether the prices that matter most to households—food, transport, medicine, basic services—remain stable enough for people to feel secure, and whether oversight institutions respond quickly and credibly to obvious abuses. The transition will also be judged on softer factors: how smoothly cash availability and change-making work in smaller communities, how easily older people adapt to new denominations, and how clear and consistent public information remains as the novelty wears off. For now, Bulgaria is in the classic early phase of such a shift: hope mixed with caution, and optimism tempered by distrust. The decisive question is whether the euro becomes a source of everyday calm—or an everyday irritation measured in receipts at the checkout.
