It's Better to Face Reality—Yep, Even Your Finances
The book "Overcoming Underearning" has broken it all open for me.
I’ve spent the last week reading (well, listening to the audiobook of) Overcoming Underearning: A Five-Step Plan to a Richer Life, by Barbara Stanny. The book encourages readers to examine our lifelong beliefs around money—sometimes drawing from Internal Family Systems and inviting us to have conversations with the child versions of ourselves so that we can better understand where and how our money mindsets were formed—and rebuild a new, expansive framework.
The bottom line is that people who underestimate themselves skew toward being underearners. Like many books on cognitive reframing, this book makes the point that when we change the way we think about something (which frequently involves intervening with our toxic thoughts), our behavior changes.
Stanny believes self-awareness is a vital part of the work here, “the missing link for anyone who’s ever had trouble applying skills they’ve tried to learn, or doing the things they know they should to get ahead.” Each chapter ends with a workbook exercise, and—since I was listening and not reading—I jotted down several of my thoughts, but (starting today) plan on going back through the physical book/workbook and take myself through the whole process.
Judging a book by its cover
When I initially was gifted this book, I wasn’t sure it was for me. Based on just the title, I wondered if it was more geared toward people who make very little money, have a ton of debt, or don’t possess much self-worth. I don’t fit into any of those categories—but by the end of the first chapter, I realized that I had been judging it based on the very surface view of what it might mean to be an underearner.
As it turned out, the whole concept behind the book went so much deeper than that. It became clear early on in my listening that I was limiting myself, undermining my goals with a deep-seated belief that I don’t have many choices. Historically, when things have become chaotic for me—either personally or financially—I have doubled down and made every excuse in the world for why I just had to grin and bear it. I was staving off the necessary discomfort of reexamining those deep-seated belief systems—not to mention the discomfort of being fully transparent with myself about my spending and saving habits—in favor of continuing the chaos.
Only, it wasn’t really that chaotic. I am privileged enough to mostly live just above that chaos line, just sane enough so that I could trick myself into believing that since my earnings have consistently inched upwards in the past few years, I must be fine. And in many ways, I am fine, and I probably could putter along this way for the rest of my life. But I don’t want to just putter along.
A little bit toxic, a little bit rock-and-roll
Sometimes, I feel like my issues are like whack-a-mole. Just when I’d mostly confronted negative body image and reframed the way I talk to and see myself, other areas of my life became a little bit toxic. Looking back over the years, maybe that toxicity took the shape of a relationship, job, or—yes—financial situation. The common denominator has always been me.
And while, in my lifetime, I’ve done enough therapy for all the Jews in New York City, my own process of lifelong learning has presented me with endless chances to examine my mindset and behavior as they relate to any number of ways I show up for myself: in relationships, in professional settings, in my creative outlets, and in my financial life.
When I was a kid, it was entirely off the table to talk about money. I had no idea what my parents made or what any adult made (or didn’t make). It was the ultimate most private subject, and so by the time I became an adult, I had literally no idea how to “adult” (verb!) in that way. When I got to college, my mother taught me how to budget with the cash-and-envelope system: you write your budget for the week on the back of several envelopes (labeled “groceries,” “discretionary,” etc.), you put that amount of cash in those envelopes, you hope you don’t get robbed, and then you go about your life.
Money makes the world go round
In many ways, I’m grateful for having learned that way. It gave me the basics of what I needed to know. But the world of earning and of debt were mysteries to me, even though I have been working in some capacity since I was 11 when I was the go-to mother’s helper or babysitter on my street.
In my early twenties, I lived with many roommates (some of whom were mice) in Upper Manhattan and cobbled together a living by way of acting, nannying, casting assistant work, Off-Broadway crew work, and working at a small health food store where I made people expensive smoothies that would have taken me two hours of work to afford to buy myself.
My first full-time job in animal protection paid less than thirty-thousand dollars, so I had a wall built in my living room and got another roommate. I was also lucky enough to get regular help here and there from my mother and step-father, both of them middle-class. (The amount that my late step-father did to quietly but consistently support me and my dreams—all while asking for nothing in return—is a whole other story.)
Get honest or get complacent
I used the word “privileged” earlier, and I’ll reiterate it here again; I know that I have been extremely lucky to have never been confronted with poverty, even when I was living paycheck-to-paycheck. Having that cushion—a family who will save you if you need to be saved—made all the difference for me, giving me so many opportunities that helped form who I am today. I am, in the truest sense, eternally grateful.
But, in some twisted way, that also delayed the process of me being forced to confront my attitude about (and behavior around) money—namely earning and saving—as well as the foundational belief that kept me in that aforementioned chaos. And while it hasn’t been all bad—and in many ways, I’m proud of all that I’ve accomplished—I see that I’m at a precipice now: Get honest or get complacent. Rise to the challenge or remain at the threshold of comfort, constantly teetering on the edge.
At some point while listening to this book, I researched the best-reviewed budgeting apps and ultimately landed on Simplifi by Quicken. After downloading Simplifi and attaching my banks to it, I basically started spiraling as I was face to face with the reality of my situation. I kept wondering: Is this the discomfort Stanney keeps speaking of—discomfort we need to walk through in order to get to the other side? Turns out: yes it was.
Yes it is. I’m still uncomfortable.
Me and the pursuit: a toxic love story
I am a big dreamer and a giant goal-setter. There is so much I want to accomplish this year, and in my life, and—as I’ve talked about here, time and time again—I am fastidious when it comes to my goal-setting and tracking. Arguably, I should slow down the dial and be a bit more slow-rolling when it comes to my professional ambitions and big creative pursuits.
Taking a look at what is right in front of me has never been my strong suit; I tend to get too wrapped up in the future and in how to get there. I like the pursuit—or, rather, I am most comfortable when I am pursuing.
But sitting down with my finances as they are today—the good, the bad, and the ugly—is a very clear exercise in being firmly planted in the moment. And, sure, from there we can scheme and plan and devise and schedule. But it is, I’m realizing, going to be much harder to get from here to there if we don’t have a firm grasp on what we’re working with.
This is not easy, and I’m writing this to you only a few days in—so forgive me as I weep copiously onto my keyboard. Perhaps one of the reasons I’ve strayed so much from being in the moment is because the moment, when gazed upon openly and honestly, can be a tough pill to swallow. That goes far beyond just finances.
It is my hope that this is an atheist Jew’s come-to-Jesus moment. A reckoning of sorts. I haven’t even gotten very far into the workbook part of Overcoming Underearning, and yet—partly due to that goddamn stupid financial app (which is actually quite useful and easy to navigate, even though I hate its guts)—I think I’ve already started confronting reality in a new, albeit deeply uncomfortable, way.
Forgive me if this sounds cliche, but every single time I’ve made a change for the better in my life, it started with great discomfort. So I can only hope this is an indicator of what’s to come.
Maybe the present is really a present.
xo,
jazz
P.S. Yesterday was the six-year anniversary of my first book, my memoir—Always Too Much and Never Enough—coming out. I wrote about it on my Instagram account (just click on that photo just below if you want to see it). And if you want to buy the book and you live in the US (and have Venmo), email me (jasmin@jasminsinger.com) and I’ll send you a signed copy for $15 (which includes shipping and handling).
P.P.S. Last week, I was featured in an article on Yahoo about how the world is going to hell thanks to cows burping. I hope you check it out.
You’re a brave one~ facing reality and delving in deeper is a challenge, especially when it requires doing things differently. Best wishes in your quest 💗