I spent most of my adult life desperately trying to figure out money. I had to. My husband was gambling it away at a rapid pace. So I dutifully went to classes, read books, talked to advisors. Nothing helped.
Then, something miraculous happened. When I began journaling about my frustration, I began to breakthrough my blocks.
As I’d write, I’d hear a familiar voice in my head telling me how stupid I was. Up until then, I just assumed that voice was right and there was nothing I could do.
But, this time, instead of letting that voice hold sway, as I always did, I decided to get to know it better. I asked the voice where it came from and what it wanted.