How your wounds affect your wallet
Scrooge, avoidance, and the ghosts that shape our financial decisions
Imagine if Ebenezer Scrooge spent the night before Christmas in bed, scrolling Instagram, instead of being dragged outside his content bubble by the ghosts of his past.
@humbug might’ve been blocking posts from his nephew’s joyous Christmas party and unsubscribing from Tiny Tim’s GoFundMe campaign. Scrooge could have laid in comfort in his nightgown, smashing the like button on a bunch of eviction videos.
Scrooge was where he “wanted” to be. Living his best life: sitting at his desk, running through the ledger, counting and recounting his money.
But is this really what he wanted?
Scrooge’s story unfolds in a series of hurts:
He was unloved by his father and left at boarding school over the Christmas holidays.
His fiancée, Belle, also left him, saying he loved money more than he loved her.
The way he was hurt in relationships was inseparable from the way he managed his money. All those years of isolation and nonstop grumpin’ had hardened his habits.
Scrooge was good at making money, but he sucked at spending it.
His problem was not financial literacy.
His problem was that in the absence of genuine human affection, he had withered. Closed up shop emotionally.
I always imagined myself more akin to the hard-working Bob Cratchit or the loyal nephew, Fred.
But maybe what thrills me about A Christmas Carol is imagining how I might feel to be as liberated as Scrooge at the end, after he realizes the errors of his ways. Barely dressed, he dashes into the street with a goodwill and generosity he can’t contain anymore.
Sometimes when I’m asked for money on the streets of New York City, I feel flustered and struggle to think straight.
Is this person actually unhoused?
Does it matter?
What will they do with it?
Oh leave me be, ghosts of my conscience!
I hate the feeling of being unsure how to spend my money, whether it’s deciding if I’m going to give two dollars to someone on the subway or what kind of car to buy.
But maybe we shouldn’t push away the discomfort.
We get set in our ways and forget we have choices about how we use money. Sometimes we want to forget we have choices because it’s easier than changing our behaviors.
Scrooge changed his spending because he discovered something more loving and free-flowing in himself.
The ghosts that haunted him are a reminder that sometimes the messages of change can be inconvenient, disorienting, and uncomfortable. But can we be open to where they might take us?
What’s one uncomfortable experience you’ve that ended up changing how you think about money? (For me, serious medical issues in my 20s made me realize how important it is to invest in my health.)
Thanks for reading and until next time,
Dan



I appreciate that the subtext here is that money is inherently emotional. Our life experiences shape our relationship with money, including our spending habits as well as how our nervous system reacts when we must confront our financial position.
For me, the relationship I have with money today is largely shaped by wanting to do the opposite of what I witnessed from my parents growing up. I was witness to mixed money messages, short-sighted decision making, and misaligned values. I decided I didn’t want that for myself and I transformed myself and my relationship with money to reflect consistency, calm, values-based planning, and strategy built on long term vision.