Let’s talk about something that hits close to home. Because when someone you love asks for money, it’s rarely just about the money. It’s layered. It comes with history. With expectations. With the unspoken weight of “Don’t forget where you came from.”

If your mom was always stressed about bills… If your grandma always said, “hold onto every penny”… If every holiday came with quiet tension about “who’s gonna cover what”… Then you probably learned without anyone saying it out loud that money equals fear, scarcity, or obligation. That’s not a curse. That’s modeling. That’s repetition.

I’ll never forget the first time a debt collector called me at work. My hands started shaking so badly I could barely hold the phone. My throat tightened. I wasn’t just embarrassed. I was triggered. It felt like proof that I was failing, that no matter how hard I worked, I’d never catch up. But here’s what I eventually learned: their job is intimidation. Your job is protection. You don’t have to let their tactics decide your worth. You get to reclaim your power.

It’s the knot in your stomach when the phone rings because you’re scared it’s a bill collector. It’s the panic when your card gets declined at checkout. . . even if it’s just a glitch. It’s sitting in your car in the Target parking lot, crying, because you spent money you promised yourself you wouldn’t.