The Dear Money Podcast

I Don’t Want Money to Change Who I Am.

Sometimes the fear isn’t that we won’t have money… but who we might become if we do. Transcript Hi. I’m Miata.This is Dear Money. Here, we tell the truth about our relationship with money—the parts we usually keep private. No fixing. No pressure to change anything. Just to see what’s there. Let’s begin. Reflection Here are some of the things I thought about after reading today’s letter. There’s a fear that I’m not sure we talk about enough. Yes, we’re often afraid that we won’t have enough money. But we’re also afraid that if we do… we might become someone we don’t recognize. Someone we don’t like. We’ve seen it before. People who became rigid, or entitled, or disconnected. Or just more focused on keeping money than on living their lives. And somewhere along the way, we made a decision: I don’t want to be that. So we create distance. We tell ourselves we’re not motivated by money. We downplay what we want. We keep our lives just small enough to feel safe. Because wanting more starts to feel risky. Not financially risky… personally risky. What if having money changes me? What if I lose something essential? What if I become less generous… less grounded… less myself? So instead of asking: How do I build a healthy relationship with money? We ask: How do I make sure money doesn’t have too much power over me? And that question shapes how much we allow ourselves to earn and how much we’re willing to receive. Sure, we may still have ambition. But larger than that ambition is our desire to protect our identity and values and our actual sense of who we are. That protection makes sense AND it creates a tension: You can’t build a strong relationship with money while also insisting on holding it at a distance. So what if the question shifts from Will money change me? to Who do I trust myself to be if it does? Because money doesn’t create character. It reveals it. It amplifies what’s already there and in some ways it puts pressure on the parts of us that we haven’t examined. And that can feel confronting. But it can also be so clarifying. Because the goal isn’t to stay exactly the same. The goal is to grow without abandoning yourself. To expand your life… without losing your values inside of that expansion. To let yourself have more… and still recognize the person holding that abundance. For many of us, that’s the real work. Becoming someone we trust… no matter how our circumstances evolve. If something in this brings up your own relationship with money here’s… A prompt, if you want it Write a letter to money that begins with: “I’m afraid of who I might become if I had more of you…” or “The version of me I never want to be with money is…” Let it be honest. Even if it feels uncomfortable. Even if it contradicts what you think you’re “supposed” to say. The anonymous letter that shaped today’s reflection Letters may be lightly edited for privacy and clarity. Dear Money— You’ve shaped more of my life than I’d like to admit. Long before I understood you, you were already influencing where I grew up, what my family worried about, and the choices that they made. And even now, it still feels like you have a say in everything. What I do for work.What I say yes to.What I have to think about every single day. There’s a part of me that resents that. When I think about you, my first reaction isn’t excitement — it’s tension. Frustration. Even anger. Because I’ve seen what people do in your name. I’ve seen how easily you get tied to greed, to power, to decisions that don’t feel human. And I don’t want to become that. I don’t want my life to revolve around you in that way. But I also know I can’t just push you away. Whether I like it or not, you’re part of this life. You affect what’s possible. What’s available. What I can create. And pretending you don’t matter doesn’t actually change that. So I’m trying to find a different way to relate to you. Not from fear. Not from resentment. But also not from blind trust. I want something more grounded than that. I don’t believe you’re inherently bad. But I do think you amplify what’s already there? And that makes me careful with you. I don’t want to lose myself chasing you.I don’t want to measure people by how much of you they have.I don’t want you to change what I value. At the same time… I do want to use you. To take care of myself.To support the people I love.To build a life that actually feels meaningful. And I’m starting to see that those two things have to coexist. The resistance… and the reality. I may never feel completely at ease with you. But I don’t want to keep reacting to you the way I have been. I don’t want you to take up this much emotional space in my life. I want something steadier than that. Something where you’re present… but not in control. Where I can work with you — without feeling like I’m working against myself. I don’t know exactly what that looks like yet. But I know I don’t want to keep living in this tension. So I’m here. Trying to figure out what a different relationship with you could be. Thank you to the writer for trusting me with this letter.And thank you for listening. Dear Money is a space for honesty, not answers.You don’t need to do anything with what came up today. If you find yourself holding a truth you haven’t named yet, you’re welcome to write your own letter to money [https://forms.gle/foinKU6Z6QGbagGL7]. I’ll be here. New episodes are published every Thursday. Until next time. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit miataedoga.substack.com [https://miataedoga.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

I Want a Partnership with Money, Not Dependence.

Most of us don’t realize we have a relationship with money… until we’re the ones responsible for it. Transcript Hi. I’m Miata.This is Dear Money. Here, we tell the truth about our relationship with money—the parts we usually keep private. No fixing. No pressure to change anything. Just to see what’s there. Let’s begin. Reflection I want to start with a few thoughts that came up for me while sitting with today’s letter. For many of us, our first relationship with money doesn’t feel like a relationship at all. It feels more like an environment. Something that’s just… there. It’s handled by someone else and structured in ways we don’t see. We don’t ask where it comes from. We don’t think about what it requires. We don’t have to. And because of that, it can feel like money belongs to us… before we’ve ever had to understand it. But at some point, for almost all of us, that changes. Sometimes gradually. Sometimes all at once. We step into a version of life where we’re expected to meet money directly. To earn it and manage it and make decisions about it. And that’s often the moment when the relationship becomes visible because the distance is gone. And what we see in that moment can be pretty confronting. We see how much we don’t understand, how much we’ve avoided, and how much we’ve relied on systems or people we didn’t have to question before. That realization can bring a lot with it: Anxiety. Guilt. Maybe a sense that we should already know how to do this. And for many people, the instinct in that moment is to pull away. To avoid looking too closely and hope that things will somehow continue to work without changing how we engage. But eventually, pretty much always, that stops working. And when it does, though it can be painful at first, something important becomes possible. We begin to see that money isn’t something we can stay disconnected from and still expect it to support our lives. That it asks something from us: Attention. Care. Participation. And at first, that shift can feel like a loss of ease… of innocence even. It feels like a loss of the version of life where we didn’t have to think about it. But it’s also an opening. Because for the first time, we’re actually directly in the relationship. It stops being a relationship of avoidance, or one that really only exists through someone else. And from there, something different… something more mutual… can begin. We start to understand what money requires… and also what we need from it. We start to take responsibility… without staying in guilt. We allow ourselves to learn… instead of pretending we already should know. For many of us, this is where the relationship really starts. Not when money first shows up in our lives—but when we finally begin to meet it ourselves. If something in this brings up your own relationship with money here’s… A prompt, if you want it Write a letter to money that begins with: “The version of money I grew up with was…” or “The first time I realized I didn’t understand money was…” Let it be simple. Just notice what comes up. The anonymous letter that shaped today’s reflection Letters may be lightly edited for privacy and clarity. Dear Money— I’ve known you my entire life… and I still feel like a stranger to you. When I was a kid, you were always there. I didn’t have to ask. My parents made sure I had everything I needed. And I didn’t think about you at all. I didn’t have to. Looking back, I can see how much I took that for granted. You were never really mine… but I acted like you were. When I left home, that didn’t change right away. A credit card meant one swipe could solve almost anything. I stayed comfortable… and disconnected from you. It wasn’t until I started working that something shifted. For the first time, I saw how hard it actually is to get close to you. I chose a path I cared about, but it demanded more than I expected. I was overworked, underpaid, and too exhausted to really face what was happening. So instead, I leaned back on what I knew. I asked my parents to step in again. And for a while, that worked. I kept moving forward with my life… but not with you. I was avoiding you. Avoiding the conversation I needed to have. Avoiding the responsibility that came with truly understanding you. But eventually, that stopped working. My parents reached a point where they could no longer carry me the same way. The support I had always relied on… wasn’t unlimited. And for the first time, I really felt that. The anxiety.The guilt.The realization that I had been living in a relationship with you that I didn’t understand—and hadn’t taken responsibility for. That was hard to face. But something started to change. I began to see that you have limits. That you require something from me — attention, structure, care. And slowly, I started to meet you there. I began paying attention to how I spend you.I started asking for more when I work.I became more aware of what it actually takes to keep you. And for the first time… I felt a different kind of connection. Not dependency. Partnership. I’m still learning. There’s a lot I don’t know. But I don’t want to stay in guilt. I don’t want to keep apologizing to you for who I used to be. I want to grow into someone who can meet you differently. Someone who understands you.Who respects you.Who can build something real with you. Not just for me… but for the people who supported me when I couldn’t support myself. So this is where I am. Not perfect. But paying attention. And finally willing to take responsibility for the relationship we’re in. Thank you to the writer for trusting me with this letter.And thank you for listening. Dear Money is a space for honesty, not answers.You don’t need to do anything with what came up today. If you find yourself holding a truth you haven’t named yet, you’re welcome to write your own letter to money [https://forms.gle/foinKU6Z6QGbagGL7]. I’ll be here. New episodes are published every Thursday. Until next time. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit miataedoga.substack.com [https://miataedoga.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

I Thought I Didn’t Need Money.

An anonymous writer reflects on the belief that they didn’t need money—and the realization that the life they want to build requires a different kind of relationship. This episode sits with honesty, avoidance, and what it means to finally turn toward money as something we work with, not against. Transcript Hi. I’m Miata.This is Dear Money. Here, we tell the truth about our relationship with money—the parts we usually keep private. Each episode, I read and respond to a real letter to money that has been shared anonymously.The goal (for all of us) is never to judge. It also isn’t to fix or to advise.Just to listen, reflect, and try to open some things that’ve been tight or hidden. Let’s begin. Letters may be lightly edited for privacy and clarity. Dear Money— I’ve always told myself I didn’t need you. That I was happy on the inside. Content with who I am. And that “happiness” was enough. But I don’t think that’s true anymore. Because the life I say I want… requires you. If I don’t have you, I can’t build the creative business I keep dreaming about. I can’t travel, see the world, or meet the people I want to meet. And I can’t create the family life I imagine. So if I’m honest… I think I’ve been lying to myself. Or just avoiding something I didn’t want to face. I do need you. And I don’t really understand you. When I think about where that started, I go back to my childhood. My parents were always “struggling” with you — at least that’s how it felt. And yet… we always had what we needed. I don’t fully understand that contradiction. But I wonder if I learned something from it. Because now, when you come into my life, it feels the same. You come in. You go out. And I don’t really know where you went. I don’t know if I’ve been careless with you… or if I’ve been repeating something deeper. Something about scarcity.Or not feeling like I get to keep you.Or not believing I can actually build something stable with you. Whatever it is, I feel stuck in it. Like I’m running in circles, but not moving forward. And I don’t want that anymore. I have ideas. I have vision. I have things I want to build with my life. But I can’t keep pretending that I can do that without you. So I need to understand this. I need to understand how to keep you.And grow you.And actually use you to build something real. Because right now, I’m not doing that. Right now, I’m avoiding you… and hoping things will somehow change. They won’t. So this is me being honest. I don’t want to stay in this cycle. I want something different. And I think that starts with finally being willing to face you — instead of pretending I don’t need you at all. Let’s pause and just sit with that for a moment. Just breathe and let yourself notice anything this letter brings up for you. As I read your letter, what stands out to me is your honesty about yourself. You say, “I’ve always told myself I didn’t need you.” And there’s something very familiar in that. A lot of us have learned that wanting, or even needing money somehow makes us… less good… pure… generous. So we distance ourselves from it. We say things like:Money isn’t what matters. That’s not why I do what I do. And there’s truth in all of that. But sometimes those ideas become a way of avoiding something deeper. The truth is—the life you’re describing…the business, the travel, the relationships, the family… That life does require money. Not because money is the point. But because money is part of how things get built in the world we live in. And I hear how clearly you’re starting to see that. You say, “I think I’ve been lying to myself.” That’s not easy to admit. It means letting go of an identity that may have felt very important. The identity of being someone who doesn’t “need” money. But I don’t hear someone becoming selfish. You’re just becoming more honest. And that is what allows a stronger relationship to actually begin. You also describe this pattern of money coming in… and then going out. Not really knowing where it went or feeling like you get to keep it. And I notice how gently you approach that. You don’t immediately blame yourself. You wonder. Is this something I learned?Is this something I’m repeating? That kind of curiosity opens the door to understanding… instead of shame. And what you’re seeing is that this relationship didn’t start with you. You grew up watching money feel unstable. Struggle was present… even if your needs were met. That creates a kind of contradiction that’s hard for a kid to make sense of. We’re okay… but we’re not okay.We have enough… but it doesn’t feel like enough. Those mixed signals can absolutely turn into patterns later. Money comes in… and it goes out.There’s no clear sense of what “keeping” looks like. So when you say, “I don’t know if I’ve been careless… or if I’m repeating something deeper”… That’s an important question. Because it moves the conversation away from What’s wrong with me?and toward What am I working with here? And then you say, “The life I want requires you.” That sentence changes everything. Because now money isn’t something you’re trying to distance yourself from. It becomes something you’re willing to engage with, and understand. Something you’re willing to work with. And there’s a big difference between: I need money so I can be okay… versus I’m willing to work with money to build something meaningful. One is driven by urgency. The other is rooted in intention. I hear movement toward intention. You have ideas.You have vision.You have things you want to create. And instead of pretending money isn’t part of that… you’re turning toward it. Not with all the answers. But with willingness. This relationship starts to change the minute avoidance is replaced with engagement. We don’t have to wait for when everything is figured out. You say that things won’t change just because you keep hoping. That clarity? It’s a real starting point. The avoidance has been part of the story.But so is your willingness to face it directly now. And that willingness allows you to start building the life you’ve been imagining—with money as a partner, not something you have to push away. Thank you to the writer for trusting me with this letter.And thank you for listening. Dear Money is a space for honesty, not answers.You don’t need to do anything with what came up today. If you find yourself holding a truth you haven’t named yet, you’re welcome to write your own letter to money [https://forms.gle/foinKU6Z6QGbagGL7]. I’ll be here. New episodes are published every Thursday. Until next time. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit miataedoga.substack.com [https://miataedoga.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

Money Doesn't Have to Be Temporary.

An anonymous writer traces a pattern she's carried for most of her life — spending out of fear, then feeling the absence, then fearing again. This episode sits with the moment she turns the lens around, and what becomes possible when someone realizes the relationship with money was never really about money at all. Transcript Hi. I’m Miata.This is Dear Money. Here, we tell the truth about our relationship with money—the parts we usually keep private. Each episode, I read and respond to a real letter to money that has been shared anonymously.The goal (for all of us) is never to judge. It also isn’t to fix or to advise.Just to listen, reflect, and try to open some things that’ve been tight or hidden. Let’s begin. Letters may be lightly edited for privacy and clarity. Dear Money— We’ve had a complicated relationship for as long as I can remember. Growing up, I didn’t have clear examples of how to manage you. I saw you as something to spend quickly — without thinking, without planning. When you were around, I acted impulsively, afraid you wouldn’t stay. When you weren’t, I felt your absence deeply. As though I’d lost something essential. The tension between us is real. When you’re here, I feel the urge to spend — as if you’ll disappear if I don’t use you fast enough. And when you’re gone, anxiety creeps in. I feel like I’ve failed. But I’m starting to understand that this isn’t really about you. It’s about how I’ve related to you for so long. I’ve let fear drive our relationship. A scarcity mindset. The belief that you were always about to leave. I’m also starting to understand that my joy and purpose don’t come from you. They never did. What you offer me is security. A foundation. With you, I feel grounded enough to take risks and pursue what actually matters to me. Without you, life feels uncertain. That’s not nothing — but it’s also not everything. You aren’t a measure of my worth. You don’t define my success or my happiness. But you allow me the stability to chase what does. I recognize that I’ve been shaped by what I didn’t know — how to plan, how to save, how to see you as something more than temporary. But I’m learning. I’m also grateful. You’ve given me the ability to invest in myself, care for others, move toward the life I want. I see now that when treated with respect, you can be a partner. I want to break the habits of impulsivity and replace them with intention. You don’t have to be temporary. I want to believe you’ll stay — when I treat you with care. Here’s to starting fresh. Let’s pause and just sit with that for a moment. Just breathe and let yourself notice anything this letter brings up for you. There’s a moment in this letter that I want to go back to. You describe it almost in passing — but I think it might be the whole thing. You write about the urge to spend when money arrives. The fear that it won’t stay. And then the absence that follows. And then the anxiety that sets in — the feeling of having failed. And you share this as something that happens over and over. It’s a loop. And you see it. What I want to point out is how rare that is. Most of us live inside our patterns for years — sometimes our whole lives — without being able to name them clearly enough to examine them. We feel the anxiety. We feel the urge. We feel the relief and then the absence. But we don’t see the shape of it. We don’t see that one thing is feeding the next. You see the shape of it. And then you do something even more important. You turn the lens around. You write: this isn’t about you. It’s about how I’ve related to you for so long. I want to sit with that for a moment. Because so many of us — and I mean so many — spend years believing that money is both the problem and the solution. That if we just had more of it, or managed it better, or finally figured out the right system, everything would settle. The anxiety would lift. The fear would go quiet. But you’ve found something here that a lot of people never find. The pattern isn’t in the money. The pattern is in you. And that means — and this is the part that matters — you are the one with the power to change it. That’s not a small discovery. That’s enormous. You also name something I think deserves to be celebrated. You’ve realized that joy and purpose don’t come from money. They never did. What money offers you is security. A foundation stable enough to pursue what actually matters. That distinction — between money as the destination vs money as the ground beneath your feet — that is something so many people never quite land on. We conflate the two. We mistake the foundation for the building. And then we wonder why having more of it doesn’t make us feel the way we thought it would. You’re not making that mistake. You’re saying: this is what you are to me. Not everything. But not nothing. A partner. A resource. The thing that makes the other things possible. That’s a relationship worth tending. And here’s what I believe about this work you’re already doing — the seeing, the naming, the willingness to look clearly at the loop you’ve been in. That work is not separate from the change. It is the change. The moment you can see the pattern is the moment it begins to loosen its hold. You gave yourself a gift in writing this letter. And honestly — you gave the rest of us one too. Thank you to the writer for trusting me with this letter.And thank you for listening. Dear Money is a space for honesty, not answers.You don’t need to do anything with what came up today. If you find yourself holding a truth you haven’t named yet, you’re welcome to write your own letter to money [https://forms.gle/foinKU6Z6QGbagGL7]. I’ll be here. New episodes are published every Thursday. Until next time. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit miataedoga.substack.com [https://miataedoga.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]

I’m Ready for a New Chapter with Money.

An anonymous writer reflects on a relationship with money that has always felt complicated — elusive, charged with both possibility and fear. This episode sits with what it means to name that honestly, and the courage it takes to make a commitment before you know exactly how to keep it. Transcript Hi. I’m Miata.This is Dear Money. Here, we tell the truth about our relationship with money—the parts we usually keep private. Each episode, I read and respond to a real letter to money that has been shared anonymously.The goal (for all of us) is never to judge. It also isn’t to fix or to advise.Just to listen, reflect, and try to open some things that’ve been tight or hidden. Let’s begin. Letters may be lightly edited for privacy and clarity. Dear Money— I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately. Not just in passing moments or fleeting worries — but in a deeper, more reflective way. Our relationship has always felt complicated. Like a dance I’m still learning the steps to. Sometimes I chase you, hoping to catch up. Other times you feel just out of reach, slipping through my fingers before I can fully understand what it means to have you. To trust you. To feel secure with you. Growing up, I learned that you were both a necessity and a mystery. You could open doors — but just as easily close them. You could offer comfort, but also create tension. I’ve felt your presence as a symbol of both freedom and constraint. And honestly, there are days I wonder if I’ll ever truly figure out how to live alongside you. Peacefully. Without fear. I know I haven’t always treated you with the respect you deserve. I’ve been reckless with you at times — unsure of how to hold onto you when you came into my life, and just as unsure of how to manage your absence when you were scarce. But I’ve also tried. Tried to understand your language. Tried to build a life that respects your power without letting it define my every choice. In this new phase, I want to build something different with you. I want to see you as more than a resource or a means to an end. I want to stop running after you in fear and start walking alongside you in trust. I’m ready to shift. To invite abundance rather than scarcity. I know it will take time, patience, and a lot of honesty between us. But I’m willing to do the work. I see your value — not just in the practical sense, but in the way you can shape my sense of freedom, my ability to create, my capacity to give. This letter is my promise to myself: that I will do better. Not because I want to chase you endlessly. But because I want to build something lasting. I’m ready for this new chapter. Let’s pause and just sit with that for a moment. Just breathe and let yourself notice anything this letter brings up for you. I want to say first, before anything else, that this letter is an act of courage. It is hard to sit with something you haven’t figured out yet — and choose to write it down anyway. To send it. To let someone else witness it. You describe your relationship with money as complicated. Like a dance you’re still learning the steps to. And I notice that you don’t rush past that. You don’t immediately pivot to solutions or plans or promises to do better. Complicated. Elusive. Slipping through your fingers. Those are your words. And they’re worth sitting with. Because before we can build something new, we have to be honest about what we’re actually working with. Not the version we wish we had. Not the version we think we should have by now. The real one. And you’re doing that. You also name the fact that money has been multiple things for you. A door that opens and a door that closes. A source of comfort and a source of tension. Freedom and constraint, sometimes at the same time. That’s an accurate description of a complicated relationship. You’re not misreading it. You’re seeing it clearly. Another thing that stands out to me is that you don’t dismiss the fact that when it comes to your relationship with money - you have tried to strengthen it. A lot of us are really quick to blow past any positives. We catalogue our missteps and leave out our effort. But you hold both. The recklessness and the trying. The uncertainty and the intention. That balance is not easy to hold. And then you make a commitment. Not a plan. Not a set of steps. A commitment. A promise to yourself to keep showing up to this relationship even when it’s hard, even when you don’t have all the answers, even when the path isn’t clear yet. I want you to hear how significant that is. Because the answers come later. The clarity comes later. The concrete steps come later. But the willingness to take a stand — to say, I’m ready for something different — that has to come first. And here’s what I’ve seen, again and again: when someone points themselves in a direction — genuinely, honestly, the way you have in this letter — the path has a way of revealing itself. Not all at once. But in small moments. A conversation you’re willing to have now that you weren’t before. A choice that feels different because you’re looking at it differently. A door you notice, because you’ve decided to start looking for doors. That’s how it tends to work. So keep showing up. In the big ways, yes. But also in the small ones. The small ones count. They accumulate. They become the thing you look back on and call a turning point. You wrote this letter. That’s where everything else begins. Thank you to the writer for trusting me with this letter.And thank you for listening. Dear Money is a space for honesty, not answers.You don’t need to do anything with what came up today. If you find yourself holding a truth you haven’t named yet, you’re welcome to write your own letter to money [https://forms.gle/foinKU6Z6QGbagGL7]. I’ll be here. New episodes are published every Thursday. Until next time. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit miataedoga.substack.com [https://miataedoga.substack.com?utm_medium=podcast&utm_campaign=CTA_1]