Money Talks (And It's Saying Weird Shit)
Your Bank Account at 2:31am: U Up?
If you’d like to listen to this essay:
“I’m doing all the right things. So why does it still feel like not enough?”
It’s the question that echoes in the spaces between invoices and affirmations. The moment you open Stripe and feel the dopamine hit—but then the emptiness underneath. The moment the high of a sold-out launch fades faster than you expected. The moment the absence of sales triggers an identity crisis that feels out of proportion to your Notion tracker.
If you’ve run a business, you’ve felt it: that dissonance between what you’re doing and what you’re seeing. The nagging feeling that something is off. That worry, that dread—even if things ‘are going good’ on paper.
It’s not something you can fix by changing your email sequence.
And if you’re someone who’s spent years doing the work—the journaling, the somatics, the strategy, the healing—that moment hits even harder. Because when you're self-aware, when you’re honest, when you’re trying to lead with integrity and alignment… the question becomes: What else is there to look at?
What if it’s not about what you’re doing?
What if it’s about what your income is trying to show you?
It Isn’t Moral—It’s Information
Most of us have been taught to treat money like a verdict—it’s a measure of our goodness, our talent, our deservingness. A reflection of whether or not we’ve done enough or if we’re good enough.
But what if money doesn’t mean anything about you?
What if it’s not a moral scorecard, a badge of honor, or a condemnation—but a mirror?
A reflection. A response. A feedback loop.
One that shows you not how hard you’ve worked, but how deeply you’re resourced. Not how worthy you are, but how open. How safe. How congruent. How internally aligned your energy and actions actually feel.
The dominant narrative is that we earn money through effort. And while that’s not entirely untrue, it creates this idea that if we just try harder—if we push, hustle, optimize—it will finally click.
And at a point that isn’t true—that can’t be true—or else, we’d all be millionaires.
What I’ve found is that money doesn’t care if you posted five times this week.
It’s asking: Did you mean it?
Did you say what you really wanted to say?
Did you hold the energy of that post long enough to let people come closer—or did you shrink before it had time to land?
When we start relating to money as feedback instead of fact, things begin to shift. Not because we unlock a new tactic—but because we stop arguing with what’s true. We stop forcing a season of expansion when we’re actually in a season of healing. We stop shaming ourselves for slow months when our nervous system couldn’t have handled a flood of clients anyway. We stop equating “not enough” with I’m not enough.
And instead, we start listening.
If you treat it as a mirror, you can start to decode the patterns—not from a place of judgment or panic, but from curiosity. Money doesn’t speak in words. It speaks in rhythms, reactions, thresholds, and sensations.
These aren’t just financial patterns. They’re energetic signatures. And when you zoom out, they often carry clues about your identity, your nervous system, your belief system—your whole internal world.
Here are a few of the most common ones I see and address in my work:
1. The Cap: What feels safe becomes the ceiling.
You’ve stabilized at a certain income level. Maybe it’s $5k months. Maybe $15k. Maybe $50k. But no matter what you do, you can’t seem to sustainably break past it. It’s not a capacity issue—not exactly. You can do more. But every time you do, something short-circuits. A launch tanks. You get sick. You suddenly crave a month off.
It’s easy to call it sabotage. But often, it’s actually protection.
At some point, your nervous system decided this number is safe. That more than this is risky. Unfamiliar. Lonely. Overwhelming. Bad. You don’t just fear failure—you fear success that changes things. Makes you more visible. Makes people expect more. Makes you have to maintain something you’re not sure you can hold.
In human design, this often shows up in undefined centers—especially the undefined heart. You keep trying to prove you’re worthy of more, while secretly fearing what “more” might cost. So you circle the same income again and again, hoping it feels different this time. Hoping to earn safety, instead of learning to feel it first.
2. The Leak: Money flows in—but can’t stay.
You land a big client. Your course sells out. You finally raise your rates. But the moment money arrives, it starts disappearing. You buy something you don’t need. You overdeliver so hard that your hourly rate basically goes back to below minimum wage. You discount the next offer out of guilt. You feel like you have to “invest it back in the business” immediately—even though there’s no real plan for the investment.
There’s a fear here—not of not receiving, but of having. Of holding. Of becoming someone who’s no longer struggling, no longer relatable, no longer “the underdog.” Sometimes we unconsciously recreate chaos because stillness feels too vulnerable. Because if you’re in overflow, there’s no one to blame anymore. No struggle to distract you. Just you—and the reckoning that comes with owning your power.
This is where ancestral and collective money wounds live. If you come from a lineage of women who weren’t allowed to have more than they needed—who were told it was selfish, dangerous, or wrong—your body may still believe that holding abundance is safe.
3. The Plateau: The old identity is expiring, but the new one hasn’t landed yet.
You’ve grown. You’ve healed. Your business works. You’ve helped people, made sales, made an impact. But now… everything feels flat. You’re showing up, but not with fire. You’re getting results, but they feel lackluster. You’re selling offers that still make sense—but no longer make your soul light up.
This is the liminal space. The void between who you’ve been and who you’re becoming.
It’s not a strategy problem—it’s an identity one. You’ve outgrown your old business, but you haven’t fully claimed the next version yet. And income tends to stall in this space—not as punishment, but as permission. It’s a pause, a reset, a shedding. A chance to get honest about what’s no longer aligned before the next evolution rushes in.
4. The Feast/Famine Cycle: When adrenaline replaces alignment.
You launch and it works—until you collapse. You take on five clients in a week—then need a week to recover. You have $20k months that require 60-hour weeks, followed by months of hiding and self-doubt. It’s easy to call this seasonal or cyclical (and sometimes it is). But often, this is a deeper issue of dysregulation.
You’re not actually creating from overflow. You’re creating from urgency. From proving. From “I need to make this work or else.”
It’s not that you don’t know how to succeed—it’s that you don’t yet know how to sustain success without overextending yourself to earn it.
The body doesn’t lie. When you build a business that only works when you’re in overdrive, it won’t last. Not because you’re lazy or broken—but because that strategy was never built for longevity and your body will force rest and recalibration.
5. The Guilt Loop: When receiving still feels wrong.
You want to charge more—but something stops you. You could work less—but you feel selfish when you try. You hold strong boundaries in your head—but in practice, you’re still saying yes to things you resent. You speak about money online—but a part of you still feels like a cringe-girl-boss, like you have to apologize for it.
This one’s subtle. It’s not that you don’t believe you’re worthy. It’s that you still associate money with guilt. You feel bad for having what others don’t. You worry your pricing makes you inaccessible. You wonder if making “too much” makes you greedy, privileged, problematic. You water down your success so people won’t think you’ve changed.
But you have changed. That’s what growth does. That’s what expansion is for. You’re not responsible for making everyone comfortable—you’re responsible for telling the truth. And if the truth is that you want to be paid well for work that changes lives, there’s nothing wrong with that.
There’s a reason so many spiritual entrepreneurs struggle here. This is the witch wound or the healer wound. The memory that being powerful meant punishment. That being resourced meant exile. That being fully expressed made you unsafe. Healing that wound is a reclamation—not just of your income, but of your voice, your body, your presence. This is the work a lot of my private clients need support with—because they’re incredible in their impact, and afraid to fully own it.
Money Isn’t the Point—It’s the Portal
What’s beautiful about all of this is that it’s not a problem to fix—it’s an invitation to respond to.
When you stop treating money like a scoreboard and start treating it like a mirror, you get access to something deeper than income growth. You get access to yourself. Your edges. Your longings. Your truth.
Money becomes a tool for self-inquiry. For energetic attunement. For healing the parts of you that believed you had to perform, hustle, shrink, or prove.
It becomes a place to practice self-trust in real time.
A place where you no longer need to chase a number to feel whole. Because you already are.
This is where overflow can happen—not from chasing or optimizing—but from becoming.
If you're reading this and realizing that one (or all!!) of these mirrors hit a little too close to home, you're not alone. This is tender, but common territory. It's also the threshold—because naming the pattern is what lets you begin to shift it.
That’s what Open to Overflow was built for. Not just to grow your income, but to change your relationship with it. To untangle what no longer fits. To hold more—without abandoning yourself in the process.
It’s not for the version of you chasing another formula. It’s for the version of you ready to receive more without abandoning yourself. This is a space for deep energetic recalibration—for unraveling the narratives, patterns, and identities that have capped your capacity. This is a space that allows business to feel good—not just profitable. This is a space for learning how to hold, spend, save, and circulate money from a place of pleasure and power.
Inside Open to Overflow, we unravel the patterns, anchor into self-trust, and expand your capacity to hold what you truly desire—in your business, your body, and your bank account. You can explore more here.
omg the title / subtitle of this is epic