Growing up, I never thought about money.

My dad earned it. My mum ran the home. When my brother and I went overseas to study, my dad paid for all of it.

Money was just there when we needed it.

So without knowing it, I grew up with a story. No matter what happens, someone will take care of me.

I never questioned it. I didn’t even know it was there.

Until life put it to the test.

What I believed in no longer made sense

My husband and I quit our jobs to start a café. It didn’t work out. We closed it with debt to repay.

I went back to HR first. I took a smaller job than the one I’d left. With two young kids, the priority was simple. Get money coming in.

So I became the sole provider. Then the main earner. And then I lost that job.

Everything I believed about my role shifted at once. I’d always seen my salary as secondary. Extra. Nobody was counting on it.

Now everybody was relying on me.

I had no idea how to manage money. Let alone my feelings about money.

There was shame. You’re educated. You look successful. You came from a comfortable family. Why is your money like this?

There was resentment I didn’t want to admit. And there was secrecy. When people asked if I was stressed, I said everything was fine. Meanwhile I wasn’t sleeping and my temper was short.

What it made me realise

I’d always been a very logical person. If I can’t see it, it doesn’t exist.

But I couldn’t see my money story. And it was driving my decisions anyway.

So I started writing about it. Quietly, on Medium. No face, no social media. I could still hide.

People responded. In the process, I realised there were women who were main earners, sole providers, like me, carrying the money pressure and the caregiving pressure at the same time.

I wasn’t the only one. I’d just thought I was.

The lesson

You can know exactly what to do with your money and still not do it. You can see the number on the screen. You can see the plan. And something still gets in the way.

Often, that something is a story you’ve carried since childhood. It isn’t about dollars and cents. It’s about what money means to you.

What you can do this week

If you haven’t yet, work out your number. Where you are now, what the life you want costs, and the gap between them.

But this time, notice how you feel while you do it.

Ask yourself:

• Who handled money in my home growing up?
• What do I expect other people to do for me around money?
• When I look at the gap, what comes up?

You don’t need to fix anything yet. Looking at your number doesn’t mean you’ve done something wrong. And it doesn’t mean you have to give up the things you care about.

The first step is just noticing.

For me, that meant learning to sit with the discomfort. Five minutes. Ten minutes. Long enough to calm down and think about the next small step instead of running from it.

That’s how I started. One small step at a time.

Get the worksheet

I made a simple one-page worksheet to help you do this. It walks you through your numbers and gives you clues to the stories underneath them.

Get it HERE.

And if you’d rather listen, the full episode is HERE.

If any of this felt familiar, reply and tell me. Who handled money in your house growing up?

I read every reply.

Sharon

I’m not a financial advisor. These are my own experiences and opinions.