Money, Our Relationship Feels Different Now.

Money, Fear Has Been Running This Relationship.

I think one of the hardest things for many of us to admit is that our relationship with money has been shaped much more by fear than by understanding. Fear of not having enough.Of losing what we have.Of looking at the truth of where we are.Of knowing our numbers.Of discovering we’ve already made “too many” mistakes. And fear has a way of making us pull away from relationships that actually require care and attention. It’s so easy to respond to this “pulling away” with judgment. To decide that we’re in financial trouble because we’re lazy or because we don’t care. But the truth is simply that fear creates avoidance. I think that’s why so many of us carry the feeling that we’ve ignored money, abandoned it, mistreated it, or just plain failed at it. Underneath so much of this is usually just someone who never learned how to feel safe inside the relationship. And there’s a difference between blaming ourselves… and beginning to understand ourselves. A difference between:“What is wrong with me?”and“Oh… fear has been shaping this relationship for a very long time.” Naming that isn’t about avoiding responsibility. It’s about bringing clarity to the relationship. Because clarity creates the possibility for something different moving forward. Something built less on panic and shame…and more on honesty.Care.Attention.Partnership.Trust. It is incredibly vulnerable to decide to begin again with money. To admit we need new habits.New ways of relating.New forms of support.New levels of honesty. Especially after years of avoidance or fear. But maybe healing with money is not about suddenly becoming perfectly disciplined or fearless. Maybe it’s about becoming willing to stay in a relationship with money without running from it. Even while we’re still learning.Even while we stumble.Even while trust is being rebuilt. _________________ If something in this brought up your own relationship with money… here’s: A prompt, if you want it Write a letter to money that begins with: “Money, I think fear first entered our relationship when…” or “Money, the ways I avoid you look like…” Let yourself notice the fears, habits, and protective behaviors that have shaped the relationship over time. Please try not to judge yourself. Just tell the truth about what fear taught you to do. ____________________ Today’s reflection came from a letter that was anonymously shared with me. I’ll read it to you now. Dear Money— Thank you for not abandoning me and my child all these years. Forgive me for not paying attention to you, for not taking care of you. I understand now what an important part of my life you are and how necessary it is for me to take care of you, nurture you, love you, and be proud of you. I know now that if I protect and guard you, the quality of my life and work will be greatly enriched. I will be better able to manage and navigate the ups and downs of my precarious life and feel an ease and calm around my finances that I have never felt before. Commitment, planning, and education will be important tools for me moving forward in my relationship with you. Please be patient with me as I stumble along learning how to create and live within this new relationship. I have spent most of my adult life ignoring, abusing, and mistreating you. I will need time to develop the habits and practices I need to live with you as my friend and ally. I hope to be emboldened by my newfound awareness and appreciation of you. I hope to step out of the shadows of shame, confusion, ignorance, and fear, which have been my default way of relating to you until now. I understand now that my primary relationship with you has been fear. I am trusting that the road toward this new relationship is opening for me, beckoning me forward, and I am committed to moving with you in partnership, honesty, and trust. Thank you for your patience. ______________________ 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.If you find yourself holding a truth you haven’t named yet, I hope you’ll consider writing your own letter to money [https://forms.gle/foinKU6Z6QGbagGL7]. It would be an honor to reflect on your words—and a gift for all of us to recognize a little more clearly how not alone we are in this relationship. 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, Our Relationship Feels Different Now.

I think one of the most powerful parts of this Dear Money practice is realizing that our relationship with money is not fixed. That the way we feel about money today is not necessarily the way we will feel forever. Because many of us assume that whatever fear, shame, chaos, scarcity, confusion, avoidance, or anxiety we currently experience around money is simply “who we are.” As though our relationship with money arrived fully formed and permanent. But relationships change. And sometimes one of the most beautiful experiences is looking back and seeing that change happening inside YOU. Realizing there was a time when money felt frightening. Or shameful. Or impossible to hold onto. And recognizing that something in the relationship has softened. That maybe fear has become stewardship...more of just a feeling of responsibility.Maybe avoidance has shifted into care.Maybe shame has transformed into something that looks more like gratitude. And none of this happens because life suddenly becomes easy or because we stop making mistakes. We just start relating to money differently. I also think many of us are waiting to feel “finished” before we allow ourselves to acknowledge growth. But growth doesn’t work like that. Sometimes… most of the time… it sounds like: “I still get scared sometimes.”“I still notice old behaviors.”“I still have work to do.” And yet… something is undeniably different. Because there is such a difference between struggling inside a relationship you believe is hopeless… and struggling inside one you believe is worth caring for. Maybe that’s part of what healing looks like for many of us. It doesn’t look like perfection. It looks like becoming more honest. More peaceful. More responsible. More trusting of our own capacity to care for what we’ve built. And one day realizing: “This relationship feels different than it used to.” And allowing yourself to feel really good about that. _________________ If something in this brought up your own relationship with money… here’s: A prompt, if you want it Write a letter to money that begins with: “Money, the way I relate to you now is different because…” or “Money, I didn’t realize our relationship had changed until…” Let yourself notice what has softened, what has strengthened, and what still feels tender. You don’t need to prove transformation. Just tell the truth about what feels different now. ____________________ Today’s reflection came from a letter that was anonymously shared with me. I’ll read it to you now. Dear Money— I truly do love you. Not in a miserly way, but in a grateful way, because you have given me and my family such an amazing life. We were not always friends, but I think over the last few years I have grown to love and appreciate you. I am no longer afraid of you, and I do feel like I understand that I am worthy of having you in my life. I am not always the best caretaker, though. I am still learning to manage our relationship better, and sometimes it is easier to fall back on past behaviors that I know draw us apart instead of together. I am making those changes now, and I will continue trying to be a better caretaker and steward of you. I want our relationship to grow and flourish, and I am committed to working toward that. Our past is in the past. I have forgiven and let go of past mistakes, and I will not go back to where we were before. I only want to move forward toward becoming a better partner in this relationship. I love that you allow me to be generous with my friends and family. I want you to grow so I can continue being generous to more and more people. I would like us to create a place that helps tens of thousands of people. I love that you help bring me peace. We have a beautiful home and life because of you. Every month I am so grateful to live where I do, to have food in the kitchen, a car to drive, places to go and have fun, clothes on my body, and both career and personal needs taken care of. I love that you have given us the freedom to pursue our interests and support our kids in theirs. I love how you give me permission to follow my passions and support my efforts by continuing to grow. I love that you have given us security. A place of our own. Equity to grow from. A place in the world and generational wealth to pass on. I am so grateful that I can write this letter. It would have been a very different one years ago, but I have so much gratitude that our relationship has grown into a more positive and loving one. I still get scared sometimes, and I still have lots of work to do. But I know I can build on what we have and continue growing into a healthier and closer relationship with you. ______________________ 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.If you find yourself holding a truth you haven’t named yet, I hope you’ll consider writing your own letter to money [https://forms.gle/foinKU6Z6QGbagGL7]. It would be an honor to reflect on your words—and a gift for all of us to recognize a little more clearly how not alone we are in this relationship. 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 Stopped Chasing Money—and Everything Changed.

There’s a version of the relationship with money that is built entirely around pursuit. Chasing it. Trying to catch up to it. Trying to secure it before it disappears again. For many of us, that’s where the relationship begins: With urgency instead of choice or strategy. You learn early that money doesn’t stick around. That it’s something you have to fight for and that requires constant attention just to keep your life together. And over time, that creates a certain kind of identity: You are the one who pushes… who figures it out… who survives. It can look like resilience. But it’s exhausting. Because when your entire relationship with money is built on pursuit, it’s like there’s no one place… no firm ground to stand on. You literally almost never feel safe. And still, as humans, we become remarkably attached to our identities… even the ones that are not serving us. So making different choices feels risky. Can we choose stability over intensity? Consistency over possibility? Something that works… over something that, right now, just isn’t? For some of us, that choice feels like giving up. Like stepping away from our dreams. Like becoming less of who we are. But what if it’s the opposite? Sometimes, stepping out of the chase is what finally creates space for your life to expand. You have a little more room. A little more energy. A little more capacity to think beyond the immediate moment. And from that place… something new becomes possible. I would call it participation instead of just survival or recovery. You can make decisions from a place that isn’t panic. You can invest in yourself without risking everything. You can begin to trust that what you’re building will still be there tomorrow. And that trust changes the relationship. Because money is no longer something you’re hunting. It’s something you’re learning to hold, to care for, and to work with. It may not look like what you imagined. It absolutely may not match the timeline you thought you’d be on. But there’s something powerful about this stage. This moment where things are… ENOUGH. Sure… they may not be perfect. But they’re enough to stand on and build from. They’re enough to breathe. And for many people, that’s the turning point — when things finally stabilize…and you realize you don’t have to chase the same way anymore. 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 way I’ve been chasing you is…” or “What it would feel like to stop chasing you is…” You don’t need to judge what comes up. Just notice it. The anonymous letter that shaped today’s reflection Letters may be lightly edited for privacy and clarity. Dear Money— For a long time I thought you were threatening or elusive, like a wild animal in the woods. I grew up believing I would have to hunt for you. In my 20s, I pushed myself so hard and still ended up in desperate situations: I’ve sold my favorite possessions to pay rent… Sold my car to pay rent… Gone into debt to pay rent… Only to end up being evicted a few years later. I used to have little energy to be an artist because my entire life was about finding you. I’ve done a lot of reflection and healing work to change our relationship. I’ve looked at choices I’ve made and patterns I inherited from my family. It’s taken a few years to feel safe enough in my body to strive for financial abundance, because the rises and falls can take a toll on the nerves! Two years ago, I risked “failing” as an artist by committing to a full time supporting job that I thought would prevent me from being an artist. No longer chasing the illusion of the starving artist, I focused on staying solvent and stable. Surprisingly, my artist self has been expanding over the past few months. I can afford to take classes and pay collaborators. I have a month of expenses saved in case everything goes wrong. It’s a humble existence, but one I am grateful for. I will continue to work on my relationship with you. I hope to better handle the grief of unexpected setbacks and face my fears of success. I will take it a day at a time. I hope I treat you so well that you feel cherished in my possession and important when you are spent. Because my relationship to money is a reflection of my relationship to myself. And so I thank you for all you have taught me and continue to teach me. I will continue to respect you and treat you as a priority, but with the faith that it will always work out. I don’t need to obsess or hold tight. I’m learning to view earning money as an opportunity to be of service to others. Spending money is a way to honor my needs and make life better. Saving money allows me to dream and envision a meaningful future. You help me so much! I hope you know how valuable you are. Thank you for being in my life. Thank you to the writer for trusting me with this letter. Dear Money is a space for honesty, not answers. 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] 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 Money Was Meant for Other People

Some beliefs don’t arrive all at once. They form quietly. In small moments. In things we notice but don’t question. In patterns we don’t yet have language for. You see how money shows up in other people’s lives. You notice who seems to have access to it… who moves easily around it… who doesn’t have to think about it the same way you do. And without anyone saying it directly, something begins to take shape: That’s for them. Not for me. It’s not dramatic. It’s not even conscious at first. But it settles in. And once it does, it starts to organize everything. What you expect. What you reach for. What you assume is possible. Because when something doesn’t feel like it belongs to you… you don’t go after it. You adjust. You become realistic. You become responsible. You learn how to live within what feels available. And from the outside, it can look like discipline. But underneath it… is a belief. A belief that says: This isn’t mine. And the hardest part about beliefs like this is that they feel like truth. They don’t feel optional. They feel like an accurate reading of the world. But every once in a while, something interrupts that pattern. You see someone who came from a similar place BUT who learned something you didn’t learn… who made different decisions and expanded what was possible in their own life. And it creates a crack. Not enough to undo the belief. But just enough to question it. Enough to ask: Wait… is this actually true? That question is super valuable, because you don’t break out of beliefs like this by forcing yourself to think differently. You break out of them by getting curious. By noticing where they came from and seeing how they’ve shaped your choices. By allowing yourself to consider—even briefly—that these beliefs might not be fixed and written in stone. AND, that there might be more room here than you thought. Not because something suddenly, magically changed about money. But because something is starting to change about what you believe is available to you. And it’s with that smallest shift that a different relationship with money begins. Maybe this isn’t just for other people. Maybe there’s something here for me too. 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 learned that you were meant for other people when…” or “The reason I don’t feel like I can have you is…” Let yourself go back to the first moments you noticed and to the conclusions you drew. You don’t need to fix anything. Just see it clearly. The anonymous letter that shaped today’s reflection Letters may be lightly edited for privacy and clarity. Dear Money— You’ve always felt just out of reach. I’ve seen what you can do. I’ve seen the kind of life you can create. But I’ve never felt like you were really available to me. I noticed that early. I remember cleaning houses with my mom — beautiful homes, more than I could imagine — and knowing they belonged to people who had more of you than we ever did. We worked hard. Really hard. And still… it never felt like enough. I saw it again when I applied to college as a first-generation student. The numbers attached to tuition scared me. They felt impossible. For others, they didn’t seem to mean much at all. That stayed with me. So did everything I saw once I got there. Families paying for housing, food, supplies — things that felt so far out of reach. I couldn’t escape the comparison. And I didn’t like what it brought out in me. I felt jealous. Angry. Like I didn’t belong in the same spaces as people who had more of you. Sometimes I even thought something was wrong with me — like I wasn’t smart enough, or capable enough, to have you. That belief has been hard to shake. Even now, I find myself just trying to get through each month. Staying up at night, wondering how I’m going to cover everything. It’s exhausting. I’m tired of feeling like I’m always behind. Tired of feeling like I’m just surviving. But something is starting to shift. I’m beginning to see that you’re not just something I’m supposed to chase or hope for. You’re something I can learn. Something I can understand. For a long time, I didn’t see you that way. You were just numbers in a bank account… something that came and went. And when I did have you, I didn’t know how to manage you. No one ever taught me how. But I don’t want to stay there. I want to learn how to keep you.How [http://you.How] to use you.How [http://you.How] to build something with you. Because I’ve seen what’s possible when you’re there. Education. Stability. Freedom. And I want that too. Not just to survive… but to actually have a life that feels open. So I’m here. Still learning. Still figuring it out. But no longer willing to believe that you’re only meant for other people. Thank you to the writer for trusting me with this letter. Dear Money is a space for honesty, not answers. 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] 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 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 [http://myself.To] support the people I love.To [http://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] 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]