In August 2024, I had VSG surgery. Vertical sleeve gastrectomy. A major procedure that permanently changed the size of my stomach, and with it, my entire relationship with food.

The recovery was hard. Not primarily because of the physical pain, although it was certainly uncomfortable. It was hard because for the first time in my life, I could not use food for comfort. Not even a little. While my stomach healed, food as a coping mechanism was completely off the table. And that meant I had to sit with every uncomfortable emotion I had been numbing for years.

That experience cracked something open in me. Because I had spent years sitting across from clients who were doing the exact same thing with their money.

Not facing their numbers. Not opening the statements. Spending in ways that felt good in the moment and terrible afterward. Using money the way I had been using food. As a way to avoid feeling something they did not want to feel.

When you cannot run from the hard thing anymore, ...

A few years ago, I was sitting across from a client who had done everything "right." She had a solid income. She was contributing to her 401k. She had no credit card debt. On paper, her finances were in great shape.

And she was miserable.

Not because of the numbers. The numbers were fine. She was miserable because none of it felt like hers. Her financial plan had been built by a previous advisor who never asked her what she actually wanted from her life. He asked about her risk tolerance and her time horizon and her tax bracket. He never asked what kept her up at night. He never asked what she would do with her life if money were not a factor. He never asked what mattered to her beyond the spreadsheet.

So she had a plan that looked good on paper and felt hollow in practice. She was saving for a retirement she could not picture. She was investing in a strategy she did not understand. She was following a financial path that someone else had drawn for her.

That conversation, and dozen...

The first thing I learned about money had nothing to do with a bank account.

I was about ten years old. My mom was a single mom, and she had hurt her back badly enough that she could not go grocery shopping. So she sent my brother and me to the store with a list and a set amount of cash. I remember standing in the aisle doing math in my head, trying to figure out if we had enough for everything on the list. We did not. We had to make choices about what to put back.

That experience taught me something I carry to this day: money is about choices. It is about trade-offs. And your feelings about those trade-offs start forming long before you ever earn a paycheck.

I share this because when I sit down with a new client and we start talking about money, the conversation almost always goes deeper than numbers. It goes to a place that feels more like identity. She will say something like, "I have always been bad with money." Or, "I do not deserve to have more than I need." Or, "Money just st...

I remember the full range of emotions I felt when I bought my first house in 2007. Pride that I was doing something so significant. Worry that I was making the wrong decision. Excitement to finally have a place of my own. And overwhelming anxiety about all the new expenses and responsibilities ahead of me.

What I didn't realize at the time was that I was doing exactly what it takes to build financial confidence. I was taking intentional action, even in the face of fear.

Building financial confidence is a journey, not a destination. With each financial decision, we get an opportunity to flex our confidence muscles. Yet so many women shy away from these moments due to fear, self-doubt, or the belief that they don't know enough yet. What if the very act of making decisions, imperfect, uncertain, sometimes scary decisions, is exactly what builds the confidence we're waiting to feel?

Clarity and Values Come First

Before you can take confident financial action, you need two things: cla...