I leased a new car about a month or so ago. I set everything up, the first payment is on its way – I’m a van mom now. But yesterday I received a shocking piece of mail. It was a letter from the dealership, stating that based on my credit report, my financing application had been denied. I am not prone to anxiety, but I thought I was going to succumb to a panic attack.

I flipped out. I texted the saleswoman at the dealership I had worked with. She gave me the number for the finance department – I called and left a voicemail – It felt like screaming into the void. I got online, went to annualcreditreport.com and checked all 3 of my credit reports in rapid succession, and while waiting on those sites to load, logged into my Honda Finance account, called the customer service number, and sat on hold while poring over the details of my last 25 years of credit history.

I felt so much anxiety, right up until Honda Finance returned my call and assured me that everything was on the up and up, likely the dealer had “accidentally” submitted two financing requests in rapid succession, causing the second one to be denied. I felt all this anxiety, even though I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that my credit is clean and strong. Long history, no late payments, solid debt to income ratios. I know to check my credit regularly. There is literally no reason this letter could be anything other than a clerical error. None of these facts stopped my heart from dropping into my shoes. The truth is – I’m a little scared of money – at least of the lack of it.

Today I’ve been playing with what if scenarios in my head. What if that letter had been real? What would I have done? The truth is that I have the incredible privilege of knowing that it wasn’t, so it’s difficult to imagine. But I can absolutely imagine not knowing how I’m going to make the next payment on the car. I can easily summon the memory of times in my life where the budget exercise was a game of “robbing Peter to pay Paul.” Long before my retail addictions came into light, I used credit to make every month work. I can look back now and say that I probably went out too much – didn’t say no to dinners out with friends or suggest less expensive bars and restaurants when I should have. And when it came to the billing cycle, there were months of hard choices. I’ve never liked having debt. I’ve struggled with tolerating it (again I acknowledge that this comes from a place of privilege, knowing that I’m employable due to my education, certifications and frankly, my race), even knowing that it’s a temporary situation. It can still keep me up at night. It can keep me worried and it keep me in a cycle of feeling that I am not good enough. That I’d never make it out of debt, and that my negative net worth equaled negative self worth.

I think money is scary for exactly that reason – because we believe deep down that the having or the not having of whatever is “enough” defines our value as human.

That’s a lie, a story we’ve been sold somewhere along the way. Probably around the same time we decided that we don’t need extended families or communities but should each be able to thrive individually and independently of others. It’s one thing I still believe the church gets right sometimes – community is key. Family and friends who love us unconditionally are what make

life worth living, and when there are needs, financial or otherwise, it is up to the community to fulfill them, without shame or judgement to any individual.

We live such isolated lives, many of us. And even though no one knows us well enough to have any idea how much money we do or don’t have, we know that there are signs and signals, ways to figure it out. Like a scarlet A, your job, your car, your clothes, your house – they all signal something about money you do or don’t have. To a bunch of people who are thinking far more about themselves than they are about you. And we let it matter to us. We let it impact our mental health. We allow it to push us into living from a place of fear.

Money doesn’t need to be this way. It’s not really even about the money. It’s about following the feelings to get to what really matters.

Would it matter if I needed to go find a used van instead of the new one I just got? Nope. Would it matter if I decided to downsize my house and live in a smaller, more affordable one? Not really – not to anyone in my life that loves me. Money really, really, really doesn’t have that power. It’s just that our emotions are incredibly powerful things, and we were socialized to listen to them. But we can do better. I’m committed to doing better, to knowing that my money doesn’t define me as a person, as a woman, as a mom or a wife or a daughter.

If you’re struggling with strong emotions around money, I’d love to have a conversation. I love talking with other women about how money can cause us to feel, and how we cope with it and rise above. If that’s you, please reach out and say hi. Let me know how money feels for you. The only way to heal is often to shine a bright light on our fears. I’m right here to do that with you.