Uncomfortable With Money? Let's Talk About It.
- Ames Gersten MSW
- Mar 27
- 6 min read
Updated: Apr 1
As Instagram influencers and financial experts flood our feeds, calling for us to freeze our credit scores, download our student loan data, and watch the stock market—all the while repeating the phrase “economic recession”—I’ve decided to start talking about money more.
Money & Stories
As we navigate this current wave of social messaging around money, many of us are also untangling our own complex experiences and histories with money. We all hold personal, familial, and even intergenerational stories around money that we retell ourselves in moments of stress or uncertainty. These stories can be written by parents, grandparents, and even ancestors who experienced financial hardships or periods of abundance, or who simply found financial stability in their lives. They can be stories we have written ourselves, starting in unstable or opulent childhoods, or financial changes that come with adulthood.
For thousands of years, stories have been a practice of “meaning-making” as we encounter strange people, places, and things. Whether they are mythological, historical, or stories retold and retold at family gatherings, we continue to use stories as a way to create meaning for ourselves and understand the world around us. Some even believe that each individual is constantly crafting their own internal narrative to make sense of the day to day.
Narrative Therapy
Developed in the 1970s by Michael White and David Epston, Narrative Therapy seeks to uncover and engage with the internal narrative. For many of us, this narrative remains a subconscious process throughout our entire lives, taking shape beneath the surface of our conscious thought. Narrative therapy challenges us to pull this process into conscious action and to begin interacting with our narratives directly. Our internal narrative often makes connections between our experiences, seeking to understand why certain things happen. We might remain largely unaware of these connections, but they can continue to shape our actions and perceptions going forward.
If I grew up in a household where our finances were never openly discussed, and the topic of money was actively discouraged in everyday conversation, I might draw the conclusion that it is rude and inappropriate to talk about money. The stronger the reaction from my parents, the greater my desire to avoid the topic. I might go through my childhood and adolescence feeling deeply uncomfortable whenever my friends or peers bring up money, and I might feel angry that they broached the topic at all. As I avoid the topic in my interpersonal relationships, I might even become uncomfortable with thinking about money, which can impact my ability to budget, plan, or save. As I enter adulthood and begin to explore my independence, all sorts of questions may come up, but without a clear outlet for seeking advice or support—all while the discomfort around the topic remains.
This story begins with the connection I made between my initial interest in money and my parents’ reaction. It continues to shape my perception of the world around me as I go through childhood and adolescence with this story influencing how I interact with others and interpret their actions. All the while, I remain largely unaware of these processes occurring just beneath the surface of my conscious thought. Narrative therapy would seek to learn more about the stories I grew up with, creating space for new perspectives that empower me and help me find a path forward.
One session might explore the intergenerational stories that informed my parents, from the ways they were raised to the role money played in their lives and the lives of their parents. I might reframe those early childhood connections to recognize that my parents were anxious about making ends meet and that conversations about money often triggered that anxiety. I might rewrite my narrative to recognize that my parents felt deeply uncomfortable when money was brought up, and reframe my perspective to place money in a more neutral space.
Societal Stories
One important note is that our family stories do not exist in vacuums. We often experience external pressures from our communities and cultures that inform our individual stories. In the U.S., capitalism is deeply embedded in societal norms around money. We grow up hearing things like “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” and “hard work pays off,” internalizing the idea that wealth comes from a dedicated work ethic and innovative ideas—supposedly the two very things that capitalism naturally generates. Therefore, we want to believe that the wealthy have earned their status and that we can achieve the same by working hard. This hides a deeper, insidious belief that poverty is a moral failing of the individual. If hard work pays off, then you must not have worked hard enough.
However, we know that there is no equal playing field. We know that we do not have the same “24 hours” as celebrities and billionaires. We know that our small business did not receive a “small loan” from wealthy parents. We know that we could work our asses off and still be unable to hoard the wealth we see in the top 1%. BUT that knowledge is deeply discomforting for many of us because that promise of the American meritocracy has been a beacon of hope in our familial and personal stories.
While we (and our stories) exist within this larger context, we can intentionally choose to write stories that offer us more than the societal narrative. We can pause and ask ourselves if we agree with the norms that inform these societal stories. Do you? If not, what are the other ways we can tell this story without these norms?
Our Own Stories
Now, after a short dive into narrative work, can you pinpoint any specific stories you hold about money? Whether they come from your personal experiences, your family, your community, or society at large—what do they tell you? Do they push you into obsessive engagement with your finances? Do they pull you away from confronting your financial stressors and needs? Do they draw moral lines around the money we do or do not have?
Can we pause here, and ask ourselves, “How has this thinking served me thus far?” Sometimes our stories, or the thoughts and feelings associated with them, can offer us comfort in the face of stress and uncertainty. Sometimes they involve protective measures, such as avoidance or numbness. We can recognize the ways these patterns have served us and ask for more.
Acceptance and Commitment Therapy is a bit unorthodox in that I will not fight your thoughts. I will not try to convince you that things always turn out for the best or that there’s no need to worry—because we have found that any attempt to fight our thoughts often leads to a subconscious “doubling down” on the original thought. For example, if I tell you NOT to think of the number between 1 and 3, the first thing your brain does is think of the very thing I told it not to. So, I will not fight your thoughts. Instead, I will ask what we can do while having these thoughts. Can we find meaningful and sustainable paths forward even in moments of anxiety and discomfort? Can we start rewriting our narrative?
We can start small and create space for learning in our discomfort. We can start asking questions, whether it’s Google, Reddit, or one of the “Finances for Dummies” books, we can build new knowledge on the topic. Personally, I went through some of these same spaces when figuring out what savings account to use or what credit card to apply for.
While financial influences may be a dime a dozen, it can be hard to find someone that shares your values and offers useful information. One financial educator I follow is Parween Mander on Instagram. She shares her experiences as the eldest daughter of South Asian immigrant parents and acknowledges the cultural differences in how we approach money and the stories we exist within. She speaks about financial resilience and the ability to continue working towards our financial goals even when things don’t go as planned. She is a great example of someone who works with money and stories, bringing marginalized narratives into conversation.
We can also incorporate our values into our finances. Take a month to track your spending, including information on each item and its cost. It might help to wait a week or two before returning to this list, to ensure that any dopamine bursts from your later purchases have fully passed. Now, go through each item and rank it on a scale of 1-10 on how well that purchase aligns with your values and how good you feel about the purchase. How can this inform your future spending and financial decisions?
Overall, find people who acknowledge your story! Money has never, and will never exist within an emotional vacuum. This journey starts with discomfort and a deep desire to find more.
Supervisee in social work
Providing individual therapy in Virginia
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