How Lesley made the switch from intuitive budgeting and found peace with her money.
In the fall of 2011, I was, like Beyoncé, expecting my first child– a daughter. I planned to stop working full-time after the baby was born. Facing these big changes, even I could admit it was a good time to seek guidance, despite my distaste for the topic of money.
For a variety of reasons, I felt averse to learning about personal finance. I had internalized the false belief that people who strategized about money were somehow greedy or materialistic. I had picked up that talking about money was taboo. Plus, I figured money was about numbers, and I was never a big math person. I wanted to feel free and unhindered, and figured those pesky, rigid numbers would only drag me down.
When my husband and I met with someone for money advice, the expert looked at our bank statements to review our spending. He said, “You guys are fine. You basically practice intuitive budgeting.”
This was music to my ears. Not only because we were, in practice, spending less than we earned. But because I interpreted this as validation of my avoid-numbers-and-stay-uninformed approach. This was all the justification I needed. I latched onto “intuitive budgeting” as my official excuse not to exert effort, understand, or plan. If an expert says it’s fine, I’m happy to keep avoiding financial education, conversation, and strategy altogether!
For years, I even told myself that my “intuitive budgeting” reflected a more advanced strategy. Perhaps I had an inner instinct, a higher sense. Even though I never looked at my checking account balance, what if my inner sense told me where it stood?
True– if I wanted to avoid a clear-minded, concrete approach to money, I had to make spending decisions some other way. That left me with nothing but the abstract to guide my choices. Was it a sophisticated instinct? Was my “intuitive budgeting” even a thing?
No. I was left with emotions. Emotions informed by assumptions, platitudes, past experiences, and peer influence. With a superb gut sense about money, wouldn’t I have felt pretty good? Yet my inner experience of dealing with money wasn’t pleasant.
In hindsight, my “intuitive budgeting” was just emotional spending. In my case, it was shame-laden spending. I knew that I didn’t know my numbers! An unceasing, semi-conscious imperative lived permanently in my mind: “Try not to spend!”
When I shopped, a shroud of uncertainty cloaked me. Every spending decision, no matter how big or small, became an arbitrary, feelings-based riddle to solve. To rely on my “intuition” meant turning to my inner feelings for answers they could never give me.
I warred with myself internally with impossible questions:
Is this too expensive?
My friends bought something like this— it’s probably fine!
But maybe it can wait.
Or should I DIY?
Well, it’s not like we’re poor! Right?
I shouldn’t feel deprived! Am I in a scarcity mindset? That would be bad.
I know we’re not poor.
But maybe that’s only because I keep making frugal choices.
So I should pass on this purchase, to keep the family finances strong.
Or maybe they’re not strong. If we had strong finances, why do I feel this way at the store?
In the early years of being home with my daughter (and her brother who followed the next year), “intuitive budgeting” seemed to match the survival mode of our life season– one full of diapers, tantrums, sleep disruption, cuteness, playtime, and snuggles.
But as Beyoncé’s Blue Ivy prepared to join her mom on stage, and as my daughter grew up, too, the pregnancy brain fog turned baby brain fog turned pandemic parent brain fog started to dissipate. These incredible, maturing, talented, invaluable members of my family deserved a financial foundation stronger than what my under-informed gut reactions could provide.
Staying ignorant didn’t feel carefree, but painful. As I was pushing 40, the pain of staying the same finally exceeded the pain of changing my view of money.
To my delight, I have discovered that what for years I called “intuitive budgeting” was just a cover-up for avoidance caused by fear caused by faulty assumptions. As I’ve addressed the fears and repaired the assumptions, I feel so much better than when I stayed stuck.
To get clear about my money is more refreshingly beautiful than I ever imagined. Budgeting, even the real way, involves less math and more art, vision, even intuition, than I would have expected.
Real budgeting isn’t one more thing to worry about, weighing me down, holding me back. Real budgeting expands my perspective. It offers me the steering wheel to my life. It disentangles my spending choices from the snare of shame. It presents me with a buffet of amazing options for spending, saving, giving, and investing.
Best of all, as I gain confidence and clarity through budgeting, I can empower others. In my financial coaching business, Tulip Tree Finance, I work with clients in their 20’s and 30’s, reaching them with the insight and guidance I missed out on in their life stage, injecting strength and hope into their journeys.
I ensure that the cloak of shame never gets near my kids. They will enter adulthood knowing how to direct their money with confidence, having watched Mom and Dad do it for years. Real budgeting has handed me the gift of empowerment. I never plan to give it back. And I’ll never stop sharing it with others!