I Thought I Was Bad with Money, But I Just Didn't Have Enough - Part 2

When I first started writing about my struggles with money, I was terrified.

It felt like opening my closet and letting the world see all the mess I'd tried so hard to hide. The overdraft notices, the late bills, the panic attacks at the grocery store. I worried people would think I was careless or lazy. I worried they'd judge me the way I had judged myself for years.

But instead, something beautiful happened.

People started reaching out. Old friends, strangers online, even coworkers pulled me aside to whisper, "I thought I was the only one."

We've All Been There (But No One Talks About It)

It turns out, most people have some version of this story.

Most of us have lived through that moment where we weren't sure how we'd pay rent, or when an unexpected $200 bill felt like the end of the world.

But because money is such a taboo topic, we stay quiet. We'd rather pretend everything is fine than admit we're struggling. We scroll past posts about lavish vacations, new cars, or paid-off mortgages and wonder, Why can't I get it together?

Meanwhile, so many of us are just trying to keep the lights on.

It's a silent epidemic - this shame we carry. And I'm tired of it.

I Started Talking - And Everything Changed

Not long after my first essay went live, I found myself at a dinner with two friends. Both have steady jobs. Both seemed, from the outside, to be doing fine.

Nervously, I brought it up. "Hey, did you read that piece I wrote? About money?"

They both nodded. Then, one by one, they confessed their own financial anxieties.

One had maxed out two credit cards covering medical bills.

The other was quietly sending half her paycheck back home every month and living off instant noodles to make it work.

We sat there for hours, swapping stories. By the end, I realized that money - this thing had isolated me for so long - was actually something connecting us. We were all in it together, just too embarassed to admit it.

Reframing "Poor Choices"

For years, I'd mentally flog myself over every so-called mistake.

• That time I took a road trip I couldn't quiet afford.
• The birthday dinner where I picked up the tab even though my account was almost empty.
• The brand-new boots I bought on impulse because I was tired of patching the old ones.

Were they irresponsible? Maybe. But they were also deeply human.

Sometimes we spend because we want to feel normal. Because we're tired of telling ourselves "no." Because we're trying to create memories, or joy, or simply buy a moment of relief of relentless stress.

And sometimes, we spend on the wrong things because no one ever taught us differently.

That doesn't make us bad with money. It makes us people living under systems that rarely equip us with the tools to thrive.

What Healing Looks Like Now

These days, healing my relationship with money doesn't mean I suddenly have more of it. (Trust me - I'm still not rolling in cash.)

It looks more like this:

• Being honest with friends about what I can or can't afford. Instead of pretending, I say, "Hey, that's out of my budget right now - could we do something cheaper?"

• Treating myself gently after setbacks. When I have to dip into savings or I overspend, I remind myself that beating myself up never help before. I just regroup and start again.
• Celebrating small wins. Like putting $10 in my emergency fund. Or paying off a little extra on my credit card. Or simply tracking my spending for the month without lying to myself.
• Continuing to learn. I read articles that make sense for my reality, not ones that shame me for not already being wealthy.

Healing also means forgiving past me. The one who tried her best with what little she had. Who navigated student loans, underemployment, medical costs, and still found ways to smile.

Yes, the System Is Rigged - But That Doesn't Mean You're Powerless

I used to think it was entirely my fault I couldn't get ahead.

Now, I know better.

Wages have stagnated. Rent has skyrocketed. Healthcare is obscenely expensive. A single emergency can derail anyone - especially if they're starting from zero.

But here's the tension I hold:

• The system is unfair, yes.
• And also, I still want to protect myself as much as I can.

So I learn the rules not because it's my fault the game is rigged, but because I deserve to give myself the best shot at stability.

I keep saving tiny amounts. I look got better-paying opportunities. I advocate myself at work. I try, over and over.

Not out of shame. But out of love - for me, and the future me who will one day be so grateful I kept trying.

An Invitation to Anyone Reading

If you're ever sat up late doing mental math, trying to figure out how to stretch your last $50, I see you.

If you've ever felt like a failure because everyone else seems to have it together, please know: appearances lie. Many of them are struggling too.

If you're tired, if you're scared, if you're ashamed - know that none of this is your moral failing.

It's okay to start small. It's okay to go slow. It's okay to be proud of a $5 savings transfer because that was what you could do this week.

What matters is you keep showing up for yourself.

A Final Word From My Heart

I once thought financial security was out of reach for me forever.

Now I know that building it isn't always about big leaps. Sometimes it's about inching forward, a single careful step at a time.

It's about community, honesty, and refusing to let shame win.

So here's to us - the people learning, trying, stumbling, and getting back up again.

We may not have it all figured out. But we're doing the best we can.

And, truly, that's enough.