When “I Can’t Afford This” Isn’t Just About Money

When it comes to Get Right with Money, this is a sentence I hear often — and I want to begin by saying that I understand.

When a woman says, “I don’t have the money for this,” it’s rarely a simple statement of fact. More often, it carries an entire story beneath it — one woven through years of conditioning, lived experience, and the quiet, constant hum of fear that there will never be enough.

For many women, this thought arrives in the same breath as curiosity or longing. There is a flicker of recognition that something about Get Right with Money feels like what they truly want — a program that doesn’t push or shame, that invites healing instead of perfection.

And almost immediately, that flicker is met with contraction.

The body tightens, and the belly churns as the familiar voice says: No. You can’t afford it.

This moment matters

This moment matters because it reveals so much.

It tells us how deeply the scarcity wound runs — not just as an idea, but as a physical and emotional imprint that shapes our decisions before we have a conscious thought.

Many of us were taught, directly or indirectly, that money is for the essentials. That healing, spiritual growth, and a felt sense of safety are luxuries we can tend to later — once everything else is handled.

We were taught that being responsible means prioritizing everyone and everything else first. That investing in something that nurtures your inner world is indulgent, even reckless.

Of course this belief lives in you.
It lives in our culture.

Scarcity is the water we swim in.

It’s reinforced in systems that equate worth with productivity and security with accumulation. It’s reinforced in messages that say rest is laziness, slowing down is failure, and tending to your nervous system is secondary to getting things done.

You didn’t make this up. You absorbed it.

What I hear when a woman says she can’t afford this

When a woman tells me she doesn’t have money for this kind of work, I hear more than a budget concern.

I hear family and cultural conditioning. I hear generational fear and silence around money. I also hear the nervous system instinctively moving into protective mode.

I’ve also noticed that this reflexive “no” often shows up alongside other, less conscious yeses — subscriptions renewed without much thought, programs purchased in moments of hope or urgency, small comforts and distractions that help us cope. This isn’t a character flaw. It’s often a nervous system choosing what feels familiar or immediately soothing, even if it doesn’t create lasting change.

When deeper work asks us to slow down, to be seen, or to relate differently, protection can tighten — even as money continues to flow elsewhere.

The pause that changes us

What I also know is this: when you pause with that instinctive, protective no — just pause, without forcing a decision or trying to reason your way through it — something new can come into view.

If you can notice what’s happening in your body, and really feel the tug-of-war between longing and fear, you are already doing the work.

In that pause, you may begin to sense that the voice saying “I can’t afford this” isn’t always telling the whole story. Sometimes it’s not about the numbers at all. Sometimes it’s about safety — the familiar settling into mild numbness that protects us from touching old narratives, old wounds, and old fears.

Why this work starts where it does

This is why we begin with regulation and awareness inside Get Right with Money.

Because until your body feels safe, every new possibility — even one that could bring relief — feels threatening.

The Yoga Nidra, the somatic practices, and the trauma-informed approach we use are not luxuries. They are the foundation that allows you to meet money — and yourself — from a grounded place rather than a reactive one.

Discernment is part of Get Right with Money

None of this is about pushing you to invest when it truly isn’t possible. I know that there are seasons when resources are genuinely tight, and that reality deserves respect.

But there are also times when “I don’t have the money” is a reflex rather than a reality — a well-practiced response that protects the very patterns that keep you stuck.

I’ve seen women realize, after a few moments of gentle inquiry, that what they don’t have money for is more of the same: more striving, more fear, more shame. But they realize that what they do have money for is a real chance to relate to money differently.

My Invitation to You

If you find yourself in that familiar tension between wanting and fearing, I invite you to slow down.

Notice what’s happening — not just in your thoughts, but in your body.
Where does the fear live?
What would it mean to approach this decision from a place of enoughness rather than scarcity?

Just begin to notice - because the noticing is the beginning of healing.

And if, after that, the answer is still no, trust it. Because sister, I do. There is wisdom in your timing, and this work will be here when you’re ready.

But if something in you opens — if there is even the smallest yes that feels rooted and true — perhaps this is the moment to step toward it as an act of faith in yourself and the future you want to create.

Learn More About Get Right with Money

Get Right with Money was created for this moment — for the woman standing at the edge of change but unsure whether she can afford to take the next step.

Let’s untangle the stories that make money feel like a source of fear, and practice a new way of being with it — one that honors your nervous system, your values, and your humanity.

You will begin to experience money not as a threat to manage, but as a relationship to nurture.

You can learn more about the program here: Get Right with Money®