#MoneyStory #2: The Early Years.

By Kate Phillips July 11 abundance and prosperity

(Continued from “#MoneyStory #1: Where it all begins.”)

In my teens and twenties, my money story could be summed up into one story:

“Money Isn’t Important.”

This was the baggage I carried around for YEARS and through which every interaction with money was interpreted. (In retrospect, it was also a story I was privileged to have, as my needs had been met.)

One piece of baggage was labeled “starving artist.” As a musician and later as someone who wrote about music, there was one unforgivable sin: “Selling out.”

“Sellout” was a slur reserved for musicians who had chosen money over artistic integrity. It was a nasty label that no one wanted.

And while actually “selling out” is, objectively, a negative thing, eventually I saw the Catch-22: If a band or artist became successful, they were automatically branded a sellout. Even if their art or music had remained true to their original vision or an authentic evolution.

In other words, financial success was equated to selling out and all true artists were doomed to struggle. (Yikes—what a STORY!)

Another piece of baggage was “religion major.” Yup—I had two strikes against me, I was a starving artist AND a “money monk!”

A money monk is someone who would prefer not to deal with money, seeing it as “beneath” more lofty, spiritual goals, perhaps even something undesirable or “dirty.”

A devout money monk, I felt appropriately guilty about my family’s status as middle class Americans with stocked kitchen cupboards.
While other teenagers were going to parties, I was reading Rich Christians in an Age of Hunger.

I memorized all the verses in the Bible about the dangers of money, such as, “It is harder for a rich man to get into heaven than for a camel to crawl through the eye of a needle.”

I nurtured unflattering opinions of business majors and anyone who seemed to think money was a goal worth pursuing. (Never mind the verse, “Judge not, lest ye be judged.”)

My “money isn’t important” story was all but confirmed as the gospel truth… until it wasn’t.

I remember when it started to unravel. The restaurant my ex and I owned at the time was struggling. Our marriage was struggling as well.
In the end, neither the restaurant nor the marriage survived. I became a single mother of a young daughter who wondered how I was going to pay my mortgage and bills. I couldn’t fathom working in “someone else’s” restaurant, but I had no idea what to do instead.

My low point was borrowing money from an ex-employee and a family friend to keep my lights on and a roof over my head. I had to start bringing in more money—pronto!

And the new story that dominated my thoughts was, “It would sure be nice to have some MONEY!”

At last, a door opened to a new way of seeing money.

(Continued here: #MoneyStory #3: The Floodgates Open.)