What I Wish I Believed About Money (And What I'm Learning Instead)

I've always had to worry about money and think about it way more than I'd like. It's also always managed to elude me, so it's never been the neutral force in my life that it should have been. 

Instead, the concept of money has felt loaded right from the beginning. Emotional. Moral. Personal. 

My potential earning power and job title were literally all that ever mattered about me to my parents, even when I was little. For that reason, it's always been hard to separate the number in my bank account from how I feel about myself as a human being. Not because I think money should define worth, but because the world around me often acts like it does.

I wish I believed instead that money was just energy, the way some people do. That it's normal for it to flow like breath or water — sometimes abundant, sometimes scarce, but never personal. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't still working on that (and often failing miserably).

But I'm learning that when we stop viewing money as an emotional verdict, we can start seeing it as a tool instead. A neutral current. A resource to work with, not beg for and judge yourself because of. If you’re struggling to see it that way, too, you may relate to some of what I'm about to say.

I Wish I Felt Allowed to Want Money

Like many people raised without a safety net or a proper support system, I’ve been conditioned to believe there's something wrong with wanting money. Suffering, working yourself too hard for too little, and being satisfied with that is virtuous. Being unwilling to quietly settle for what life (and those around you) have decided you deserve is ingratitude and perhaps even entitlement.

But the truth is, I don’t want piles of money so I can lord it over other people while the world falls apart around me.

I want it so I can breathe easier, sleep more deeply, and give more freely. I want to be able to say "yes" to beauty, travel, generosity, and creativity without feeling guilty for doing so. I want to be that person who can afford to bless a waitress or an Instacart shopper with a $500 tip. And yes, it would be nice to finally stop white-knuckling life for a change.

If you’re also struggling with guilt over wanting more, ask yourself, “What would having more allow me to do, feel, or create?” If you're anything like me, a lot of what comes immediately to mind is probably pretty wholesome. Regardless, there's no shame in wanting your needs to be met. And there's no merit in denying those needs because someone else told you to at one point or another in your life, either.

I Wish Money Loved Me Back

When money is unpredictable, it feels like the ultimate bullshitter –– giving when it feels like it, vanishing when it matters most. I often feel like I’m chasing it, trying to prove that I'm worthy of having it, and always unsure whether it will stick around when I do get it.

But some days, I actually realize money isn't a villain or a trickster at all. I’ve just been stuck in survival mode for so long that I don't really know what a healthy relationship with money looks like. I never learned it growing up, and I haven't truly had the opportunity to correct the matter in adulthood. 

I'm learning that money wants clarity. Not perfection or shame. Just a clear purpose paired with open hands. It wants to be handled, not feared. Directed, not worshipped.

I've been working on my positive affirmations lately, especially when it comes to money. I'll say, “I invite money to support what matters to me. I receive it with grace, and I spend it with clarity.” Or something similar to that, depending on my mood, the weather, and any other variable I may decide matters at the time. 

It sounds cheesy, I know. But sometimes the right words untie knots I didn’t even know were there.

I Wish I Believed I Wasn't Failing

There's a lot of ebb and flow in the life of a freelancer. When I'm swamped, I'm miserable. But when things are slower and I finally have some room to breathe, I feel another all-too-familiar tension return to my body. Then here comes the “what if this is the beginning of the end” voice that pops up uninvited. Even if nothing has gone wrong, I start to assume that something must be wrong, regardless.

I forget that rest is part of the rhythm. I forget that winter always comes before spring. I even forget that I’ve been there before –– many times –– and have always found my way through.

But on my saner days, I actually remember that creative work, freelance work, and spiritual work are never linear. They're cyclical. There will always be weeks when your inbox is empty, just as surely as there are weeks when it's overstuffed. It doesn’t mean you’re failing at anything. It simply means you’re in a different phase of the rhythm.

If you need a mantra for those days, try, “A quiet season doesn’t mean I’m behind. It means I’m breathing.”

I Wish I Believed I'm Not Destined to Struggle

If you’ve spent most of your life in survival mode, you may not know what it feels like to operate without the hypervigilance and the constant need to fight for everything. Sometimes I think my nervous system doesn't know how to function without the hustle. If I’m not working, I’m worrying. If I’m not producing, I’m bracing. Even in moments of quiet, I’m scanning for the next emergency.

But I don’t want to live like that anymore. I want peace to be my absolute default –– all the time, not just once in a while, when I feel like I've properly earned it. I'm learning it’s okay to take the armor off and gently lay it down. Not because you’ve “won,” but because constant battle is not the only path to worthiness or stability.

If you're working on something similar, try asking, “What would I do differently today if I trusted life was supporting me?” Let yourself act from that place, even if it's just for five minutes. That’s how the wiring starts to shift.

What I'm Choosing to Believe Now

Even though I'm doing a lot better at all this than I was for a while, I'm still not there yet. Some days, I still spiral. Some days, I still brace for an impact I have no logical reason to think is coming. But more and more, I’m learning to calm the hell down, let myself want what I want, and believe that I don’t have to suffer to deserve it.

A few sacred truths I'm working on incorporating into my mental and emotional wiring at the moment:

• Money is a current, not a curse.
• I can want more and still be a good human.
• Quiet periods are not punishments, they’re pauses.
• I don’t have to prove my worth through exhaustion.
• It’s okay to want beauty, comfort, and stability without guilt.

And maybe most of all, that I’m not behind. I’m just on my own path, and I am still becoming who I need to be to receive what I’ve asked for.

* This reflection is part of this moon cycle's iteration of the Feast of the Wandering Pen, a month-long exploration of psyche, expression, and creativity.