The real reason I don’t save
Reflections from an amazing money course this weekend with Cleona Lira and Charles Davies.
I have a confession.
Until about 3 months ago I had no savings.
It’s not that I have never saved. I have built up some lovely amounts over the years — but I always ended up spending the money again. I told myself it’s because I loved living in the present. But the thing is, it’s really really stressful to not have any financial plans for the future.
This weekend I went on a course about how to get clearer with money — to continue a four year curiosity and exploration on the topic. When you run your own business you can’t help but look at your relationship with money head on. It shows up every day — in deciding how much you charge, how much you feel worthy of receiving, or whether you constantly do things for free because you believe others need the money more than you.
As we discovered this weekend — it’s never actually about the money. Money is just a lovely mirror of what we are going through anyway — our fears about being enough or deserving enough. Our fears about being disorganised or irresponsible. Our fears about security, reliance on others, trust and faith: it all shows up in money. We think it’s inherent to money, but physical money is just paper and digital money is just numbers on a screen. It’s not our bank balance that freaks us out, it’s what it represents.
In the workshop we had to revisit an early memory of money. I remembered being 4 years old and going on a school trip to a farm. I was given a whole £1 for the gift shop (yes, the 90s). I remember going around desperately trying to find something that cost £1 exactly, because I thought that was how money worked! I saw things for 40p, 20p… and was sad I wouldn’t be able to buy them. I asked the shopkeeper if there was anything for £1. She said ‘there’s something for 99p’ and pulled out this poster with baby chicks on it. I didn’t really want it, but it seemed like there was nothing else. Also I was a bit confused about the 99p thing — wasn’t that more?
Back on the school minibus and everyone was sharing all these cool things they’d bought — bubbles, stickers, magnets. They’d all been in the 20p section. And then it hit me — I could have bought LOTS of things for £1. And I still feel it now — the humiliation of having misunderstood. I felt so stupid but also had the feeling that I should have known. And I still had this massive chick poster.
And now in my 30s and I’ve noticed I can’t hold on to money. I can make it, but I don’t want to keep it. And this morning it all clicked: looking at money makes me feel stupid. And I don’t like feeling stupid. I’m a Cambridge grad, I can hold my own in a debate or a conversation — I like to think I’m pretty intelligent, but in money I’m bottom set. So rather than try and change this, over the years I have made an unconscious commitment to being utterly useless around money — a quirky identity perhaps. The same way I know lots of people do with maths: ‘I’m so shit with numbers’, or creativity: ‘I am the least musical person in the world,’: I’ve just always declared myself a nightmare. I sing songs about how I am so all over the place with my finances as a freelancer. It’s so much easier to own that identity than to vulnerably try and do something about it.
Of course I don’t want to keep money: looking at money triggers a feeling of insecurity that I am going to make a bad decision. So I spend the money as quickly as possible and, um, make many bad decisions. I then feel really guilty about how I’ve spent it and look around at my metaphorical bus loads of mates and how they’re making such good purchases: buying houses, saving up for things they REALLY want, having a buffer rather than living on the edge every month.
One of the things I teach in my money workshop for entrepreneurs is to imagine that we were actually in a personal relationship with money. If money was your friend, would they want to stick around?
I was trying to imagine this morning having a friend who made me feel stupid the whole time. I’d probably not want to spend time with them, I’d be super defensive and stressed around them. I’d feel like I was not enough. What I definitely wouldn’t do is fill my diary with possible days I could see them. I’d probably do my best to fill my time up so I didn’t have to see them at all (the equivalent of spending all my money).
So what would I do if this was an actual friendship to shift things? I would choose again. Choose to see them as a loving friend, who maybe at times was giving me ideas of how to do things differently. Or I would embrace the fact that I was a bit clueless with money and ask for their help. Because that’s the thing I realised too (through an amazing process we did called identity yoga) — it’s ok to be stupid sometimes — to not know. If I feel it’s okay to be stupid I will ask questions and learn. But if I’m convinced it’s not ok to be stupid I won’t ask questions. I will shy away from finding out more. I will stay stupid.
I teach Growth Mindset to allow people to rewrite their stories about being musical. So how can I apply this to feeling more intelligent with money?
I have a 3 step process for developing a Growth Mindset.
- The first is to celebrate the small wins.
Before you think about taking the next step, you have to have a strong, confident foundation. So what is there already to celebrate about on my journey to feeling clever with money?
I have managed to keep a LTD company afloat for nearly 5 years.
I am seeking help by working with coaches, reading books and going on courses.
I run courses to help entrepreneurs price their services better and regularly support my coaching clients to work through money conundrums.
Ok, so not a complete disaster then…
2. What has been the opportunity that has come from the mistakes you’ve made?
Because I’ve not saved I have been quite carefree and maybe taken more risks towards living a creative and fun life. I’ve travelled, learned new skills, taken time off to write and walk the camino.
Also because I’ve struggled so much, I am a much better teacher when helping people with their money — I empathise, am compassionate and all the skills and tools I have developed came from a desire to feel better about money. If I’d got it all back in the 90s, I wouldn’t be teaching it.
3. Finally, how can I have a growth mindset about feeling clever with money?
I can accept there is more to learn but ask myself what is the single next step I can make towards this? And I am going to meet a financial adviser (the lovely Cleona Lira) who ran the course this weekend. Amazing. And you know what, I actually feel excited about it! It’s like I’ve signed up for a new evening course and I am going to learn. I am embracing my new relationship with money the way I would learning a new language. And I am so excited to be able to speak it fluently soon and all the new travels it’s going to enable.
I am ready to be a financial linguist.
