How Money Management Became My Love Language

When we think of saving, budgeting, and finances it can be hard to think that it would become a love language, but I realized if there’s such a thing as financial abuse from a partner, then was it possible that my lack of money management was my own version of financial abuse towards myself? And if so, how could I show myself more love by taking it upon myself to clean up my money mindset?

When I was younger, I was fantastic at saving up my pennies and nickles to buy myself whatever item I desired - whether it was a 3 tier CD player, a handful of books + activity set from the Scholastics Book Fair, or the newest copy of TeenBop Magazine. I had my Fisher Price pig securely taking care of my money and I would look for ample opportunities to make money, like helping my family with the market garden, submitting crafts to the Rodeo Fair for judging, being the kid who was the quietest the longest in the car ride, or doing laundry so I could grab whatever money was left in the pockets (this was the rule!). I think I was watching my mom working hard at multiple jobs and scrounging pennies to make them last long while my dad toiled away at bringing in money from the fields - what I didn’t see was the bill collectors calling, the stressed out conversations between mom and dad about him spending money on cases of beer when they were behind on the credit cards, or the reality of the money situation my family was in. But just because I don’t remember seeing it, doesn’t mean I didn’t FEEL it. As I got older and my dad moved away to take a job in the city, I realized my own money habits began to change.

Looking back, perhaps it was in an effort to feel like I was closer to my dad since he physically moved away, I began to adopt his money style: poo-pooing wealthy folks, never seeing possibility or abundance, always seeing what wasn’t there, being so uncomfortable with money that it would get spent as soon as it came in. This isn’t to blame him, but rather to give myself context for my own money mismanagement.

And when he died - the ultimate distancing of our relationship - I think I felt that if I could mimic his behaviors, I could keep him with me. But he was a good dad and I know he wouldn’t actually want that for me, so why did I want that for myself?

Well, probably because that version of my money mindset occurred during my most formative years (16-27) and during a traumatic experience. Shortly after my Dad died, I ran away to Scotland with less that $800 in my bank account and a dream to make money while abroad as a nanny. It was here that the credit card that I had signed up for in University came to haunt me (those recruiters know exactly what they are doing - make sure you talk to your kids about the predatory nature of credit cards on campus!!) - I thought it was my ticket to freedom, to escape feeling grief. And in some ways….it was.

I had the right idea: Money = Freedom
I was just going about it the wrong way.

After another 13+ years of living paycheck to paycheck (regardless of how big those paychecks were), I was always just scraping by, spending money on shit I didn’t need to impress folks I didn’t like, as they say. I was buying things that weren’t in alignment with who I was.

The way I financially abused myself, was keeping myself poor so I could continue to have something in common with my dad and with the folks that I spent time with. As soon as I began to make more, I was told by a friend that I was becoming someone she didn’t even recognize and that I was acting like I was “better than everyone else”. And I believed her, so because I didn’t want her to abandon me either, I had to get rid of my money as soon as it came in. Lack of money = Love in my eyes.

Keeping myself poor kept me safe emotionally.

Then about 5 years ago I realized that if I wanted to run an actual business I would need to see where my money was leaking, so to speak.
EVERYWHERE.
I was spending money at a faster rate than I was making it, trying to create an illusion because I didn’t think that I was enough.

Spending my money kept me safe in 2 ways - or at least that’s what my subconscious thought:

1)It made sure that my friends/family wouldn’t think I was trying to be better than them and therefore, they wouldn’t leave
and
2)It made sure that people would like me more if I had just the right stuff, the right amount of stuff, or could buy things for them

These are the stories I told myself to stay “safe”
But then I realized that this wasn’t actual safety - this was stuckness. This was discomfort.
I could see other folks making money and living the lives of their dreams - this time seeing that money truly was freedom.
But it wasn’t borrowed money.
It was money that flowed to them easily.
It was money that they saved easily.
It was money that belonged to them.
Because they knew that they deserved it.
They knew that safety was important for surviving - but safety rarely gives us the opportunity for thriving.

I realized that I was now in a space where I was using money as a form of punishment. Keeping myself poor was keeping me from being my true self. Spending money on shit that had no value or wasn’t in alignment with me was keeping me hidden, keeping me covered, keeping me “safe” in some aspects (I didn’t need to get new friends, piss off my family members, or be called greedy), etc.

I realized if I true unconditional love for myself I would give myself the actual gift of freedom.
I would support myself in being wealthy, just as I had supported myself through being poor.
I would allow myself the opportunity to have abundance and provide for myself.
I would encourage myself to have more, be more, and do more - not to say that I was better than others - but so that I could take care of myself in the event that something, anything, happened.
So that I could provide ACTUAL security and allow myself to live this beautiful life and be the creative, multipassionate human I am and not stress about my bills.

Money and love are heavily intertwined and when it is being a form of punishment or safety, there are 2 ways that I see this manifest:

Both financial health and love health are in the pits together OR one is doing great at the sacrifice of the other.

In my case, when I had strong relationships, I had poor financial health because I thought finances would take away my relationships - so when I DID improve my financial situation, my relationships began to suffer because that was the story I believed. I didn’t think I was deserving of BOTH. I thought you either had love OR you had money. This was the story I had since I was young. Some folks have a different story - one where they don’t believe they are deserving of love OR financial security and therefore, they tend to reject both things. They tend to have a hard time receiving love AND money and will settle for the bare minimum.

BUT, what we don’t realize is that there are always more than just 2 stories. Multiple things can be true at the same time and so I worked hard over the last 2-3 years to rework the story that I could have one or the other and created a new story that says: I can be wealthy and I can have strong relationships - this new story has helped me seek out friendships and relationships that aren’t predicated on my bank account (just like they aren’t predicated on how my body looks!).

I know that regardless of how much money I make or don’t make, I will be loved unconditionally - at the very least - by myself.


And this is how I started to look at money management as a love language. Not something I do once every now and then - but rather, something I get to do DAILY to remind myself that I am worth it all:

LOVE & MONEY & FREEDOM

And so are you.