My whole life had been a lie. Well, not in the sense you may think. I’m not even sure how it happened, the sudden realization. I grew up in a family where everyone felt the world was against them. This is not a belief that is outwardly discussed. It’s a pattern that weaves itself in the way we perceive ourselves. Whether it is how we see ourselves in relation to our work, to people we casually know or our most intimate relationship. It colors the lens of how we intake information.

I did not live life with much intention. I didn’t understand that our days are a series of patterns played out in how we think, feel, and act. When I look at my life, I compare it to how I envisioned it when I was young—having financial flexibility, travel, travel, and more travel. Fast forward to now. I work from home, homeschool, and spend my summers in another state by the lake. Yet, I was feeling oppressed.

I will attempt to unravel this in a way that makes sense. I never envisioned being financially dependent on someone else, so when I find myself in a position where I am not “in control” of finances, I feel trapped. This is precisely why I write about “just existing.” Life happens, and you roll with the punches. Even when I made things happen, like summering by the lake, working remotely, and homeschooling, I couldn’t appreciate what I had done. I was comparing my life now to the vision I had. I made these things happen but wasn’t super intentional about doing them. My husband and I agreed on wanting our lives to be a certain way, and that was it. Well, not to minimize the fact that I took the risk when the opportunities came up. I went a year without pay. Figuring out how to pay my bills. Eventually, I demanded to be paid by my husband’s business for the work I had been doing for the past decade. Which, he had no problem with, I had never asked.

I’ve been in a season of backing off. Backing off the need to make money and backing off the need to help others. Asking why a lot (to myself). Indulging in the things I love. Challenging myself to daily practices. At some point, I got some clarity that I was viewing my life as being oppressed, but I am far from it. Look, if you believe you are, you definitely can be. I realized that this is a learned, observed perspective. It’s a point of connection for a lot of people. I think I felt trapped and suffocated because I didn’t have the financial autonomy that I thought I should have when I was a dreaming child. Here’s the thing: what you believe becomes reality. I probably have the financial resources, but I would miss spending unwillingly and unknowingly to keep that financially oppressed narrative afloat. All of this was unconscious.

I’m not sure I’ve uncovered everything to be discovered about this. I write this and feel like such a jerk—all the missed opportunities to live life. If I am being honest, I feel like there is a collective pressure to feel like a victim and not be happy. If you are happy or have money, it comes to you at someone else’s expense. Also, I have yet to sit down and have an intentional conversation with my husband about money and what we want out of our future. I think that makes me feel out of control. But out of control is not oppression. I’m sitting with it, noticing and feeling.