Why Resist Money
#Pray Tell_Why Would Anyone Resist Money?
Bragging Rights? What an odd thing to come first to mind. Or is it?
Don’t we all have stories about how money-less we’ve been. Can’t we remember, sometimes only yesterday, hearing someone else’s story about not having any, or certainly enough, money? We humans find a way to brag about literally anything, right? And get ourselves addicted to anything, too.
The only thing that is interesting me right now, though, is why might I resist money? And, it interests me because I want to stop it! For “reals” and for sure, I want to stop it! I want to stop it because I’ve found the property I want to begin my beloved business idea with, the property where I want to live the rest of my Arizona years at, the place where I desire to bring my sweet good man partner and love, love, love at!
I resist money, though, because it terrifies a man for me to have some, right? Really? That’s the best I can come up with? Well, I imagine dad didn’t want me to really become a big girl and leave home for good. He never did want me to wear make-up. Why? And, if that was really true, how did I get away with doing it all the time I did? I admit I sound delusional even to me. So, who was I really scaring when I had a little money?
Let’s look at the possibility I was afraid of growing up and becoming a “woman”, for just a moment, eh?
You know, I don’t remember ever thinking about this before, but I did have an example of a woman in my life, and I did not want to be like that at all. I realize I may be the only one of four children (I was the oldest) who saw mom like this (my sister didn’t) but in my memory mom was always depressed. The biggest characteristic of that, in my mind, was an inability to make even the tiniest decision. (To be fair, this was only a portion of the picture and she more than made up for it, later.)
What’s the point of being a big person, an adult, if you can’t make decisions? Seriously!
Whoa! That’s pretty wild! I had pocketed away in my mind to come out later in my life that I wasn’t to surpass my father and, even more deeply secreted away that I had no desire to be like my mother. So, who then to take financial direction from? My paternal grandmother was essentially retirement age when I was born, and had no income; and my mother’s parents were, and still are, in some kind of a murky soup that remains pretty formless as far as any real memories are concerned. I had no idea I was so rootless, to speak of a financial backdrop.
This revelation is a real long way from my determination to at the earliest possible nanosecond, and well in advance of my 73rd birthday, celebrate my being a billionaire with all those I love most. It does remain doable, however, and even more so now that I’ve realized all that precedes this.
I have to take a hard look now at my first marriage and the mess I made at programming myself (with the help of my interpretations with that and aided by the help of the Church). Am I talking about a huge snarl in a giant ball of yarn? Here we have a Church on a constant rampage of men (take that to be husbands) are to provide for their wives and children, and in that era with a near constant directing of the wives are not to work but to rather stay home with their children and an admixture of a man with a long held conviction to NOT be sole provider. My mouth still puckers as though I’m holding a lemon inside it to write about this.
Just thinking about you sticking it through to the end of this post seems unlikely to me; but if you have and the reason for that being, you can relate in some way, there will be considerable more unsnarling of that yarn in posts to come. I AM a woman on a mission and shall see this through to the end.
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