But Tamara, I’ve got huge debt, a job that doesn’t recognize my skills, no time to myself, and too much responsibility. I’m not quite sure you understand. 

One time many years ago I was walking back to my car, you know, hurrying, as I always did, because I had to get to a [potential] client's office. I was a salesperson, I was eager, hardworking, educated, I’d invested thousands into my business and… “Oh bugger!”—I whispered. Something huge, metallic, and neon was locked onto my car’s wheels—scratching the paint. Ah—look! A helpful slip on the windshield, informing me that my beloved car was getting repossessed by the bank. 

What I mean is yes—I get it. I’ve been through it, I’ve been broke. I’ve been bankrupt in fact. I’ve attended mandatory bankruptcy classes. I’ve felt the shame and confusion. I’ve seen my finances make me question who I am, and if I deserve. I’ve wondered if I shouldn’t just give up hope.

In some ways, those experiences are some of the most helpful in my entire life.

A few years later it was me teaching the same bankruptcy class I had been required to attend. A few years later it was me working at a nonprofit whose mission was to inform women about how to make money serve them. Yes—money serve women. (Not the reverse.) 

After filing for bankruptcy, reevaluating my internal beliefs and stories, attending the required financial trainings for anyone who’s filed for bankruptcy, a whole lot of soul searching, and moving from one state to another… 

I am a homeowner, a private business owner, a motorcycle rider (her name is Angel), a dog mother, and a money coach, and…your ticket to a profound transformation. What kind of transformation? The kind that makes reality and soul align: money. 

But Tamara, the money dysfunction goes so deep: my whole family is poor. We’ve been poor for generations. I don’t see how anything can change. 

Oh Lord, I understand that thought. And I know how it makes me feel. My financial heritage has been rough. I do not come from an affluent family; I also don’t come from the poorest. But I know what it’s like to be convinced that nothing can change. I know what it’s like to believe that money slips through the fingers if not slammed into a safe. I know what it’s like to think that there just isn’t enough money on earth for all of the people. I know what it’s like to be stuck between one parent who’s reliably tight-fisted, and another who is inconstant and impulsive. 

Here’s the truth: your story used to be mine. Your beliefs used to be mine, too. But I changed the story, and I found deeper, truer beliefs. And you can too.