Since I wrote two weeks ago pouring my anxieties and worries out onto this digital page, my energy has shifted slightly into a more relaxed state of being. Maybe relaxed isn’t quite accurate; more like acceptance, or maybe an allowing of things to unfold as they will. Taking my hands off the fake wheel because I’ve finally acknowledged that I’m not actually in control of everything that happens to me.

Letting go of control is still quite a scary place for me to reside, because my deluded-type-A-eldest daughter-perfectionist self just knows I’d knock it out of the park if I could organize and coordinate the shit out of every little aspect of life. Hello god/goddess/universe, do you happen to be hiring for a Chief of Staff? If so, I’m your human.

Old habits are hard to break, so of course my mind still wanders into thinking-ahead territory, trying to plan ahead as best I can. Anxiety still lingers. The hypervigilance is going nowhere. But, alongside all of that, I’m also having these little “here comes the sun” breakthrough moments of ease during the last stretch of time before we become a family of four.

Just this morning I stopped by a friend’s house, iced coffees in hand, for a quick catch-up and to get a little witchy with some Tarot cards. We’ve now done this for two consecutive weeks (!) and it has brought so much joy. It’s easy, a casual 90-ish minutes just to say hello and check in during our mutually busy seasons of adulting and parenting, and to have some fun.

If the cards are any indicators of energy shifting, a few weeks ago when I pulled from this deck I was getting some tougher messages like discontent, emotional overwhelm, and vulnerability.

This week, my spread looked a little different:

This time, I asked the cards for messages for before/during/after birth (left to right). The connected symbolism and themes when The Lovers, Nine of Pentacles, and The Sun showed up were a little mind-blowing. The birds, the feathers, the number four, the sunbursts of colors; I couldn’t have handpicked better cards if I tried. To me, it felt like a warm embrace, a soft nest, a guiding light to remind me that life can be hard, but it doesn’t automatically mean there’s no pleasure to be found. I can worry and laugh. I can feel so irritable I want to scream and also so grateful I want to sing. Yes/and. Coexistence, baby.

Three weeks to go. I’m excited/nervous, content/uncomfortable, peaceful/tense. Everything all at once.

//

CR

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I’m writing this at 9pm from a hospital bed in the triage wing of the labor & delivery floor. This is my second time here in two days. My 5th hospital appearance in the last two weeks.

I’m 29 weeks into a very high-risk pregnancy, so essentially anytime I feel any twinge of discomfort that could possibly indicate something amiss, I have to take it incredibly seriously. And I do. A gas cramp here or a backache there effectively kicks off a period of spiraling anxiety that I simply cannot escape from until I’ve been hooked up to hospital monitors for at least an hour to confirm that no perilous movement is occurring within my uterus or cervix.

My team of (incredible) doctors is scheduling me to deliver at 34 weeks, a little over a month from now. When I tell you that I am counting the days, maybe even hours, quite possibly the minutes, until I’m officially admitted into the hospital for this c-section, it is no exaggeration. Every morning I mentally clock how many days left until the week of August 24th. I cross off dates on our fridge calendar, sometimes as early as noon because it feels like it’ll bring me that much closer to the next day, and that much closer to being done with this pregnancy.

For someone who’s already generally anxious and usually worried and probably some mild degree of hypochondriac, needless to say this has been a rough ride for me.

Then there’s the weight of sadness for the way I just can’t seem to relax and enjoy any of this even one tiny bit, especially considering this is absolutely the last time I will ever be pregnant.

The first time around, I felt lucky to have a relatively uncomplicated, dare-I-say enjoyable pregnancy with my son—that is, until I went into pre-term labor and delivered at 34 weeks quite unexpectedly (apparently, my uterus has a strict rental term of 7.5 months instead of the standard 9).

This time around it’s been a rollercoaster nearly from day one: I experienced a bleed from a large hematoma at 5 weeks, and was on edge for the next month that I was going to miscarry. After a short stretch of relative calm, we learned at our 20-week anatomy scan about some serious placenta and cervix issues that landed me on immediate pelvic rest, along with an urgent MRI, new medication to take, and a guaranteed early delivery + likely hysterectomy to take place between 34-36 weeks. Then came the odd headache that triggered a preeclampsia scare, gestational diabetes confirmed (yet again), and an early morning gush of blood at 27 weeks that kept me on hospital observation for 3 days.

So yeah. It’s been a lot. In spite of all the recovery and transition ahead, all I can think about is getting to the postpartum phase already.

It’s hard for me to acknowledge these feelings, because at the very same time I am deeply aware of just how fortunate I’ve been to conceive twice spontaneously with no fertility interventions needed. Beyond blessed to have a stunning three-year-old who is the light of my life and melts my heart on a daily basis. And now what a privilege that we’ll soon get to welcome a new little human and experience the joys of discovering all of who he is and will become.

I know that I am so, so lucky.

And then…right now I’m floating day in and day out mostly consumed in a vortex of stress and tension and worry and doomsdaying and mentally just having a very tough time. I deeply wish I felt differently, but here I am.

All of the intended sentiments of comfort (this is just another phase, you’re almost there, just take it easy and rest) are lovely. I say them to myself regularly. Maybe the closer I get to the big day, they will actually land somewhere in my body and mind. For now, this is just the acknowledgment of my current residence: inside this thorny cocoon, waiting for relief.

//

CR

Now that I’m halfway through my second pregnancy and getting over yet another (3rd) cold this year, I’ve been struggling to find joy or beauty in ANYthing. All I want is to feel better, to stop blowing my nose, and for my cough to cease. I just want to be comfortable, damnit! Honestly, I’ve been a miserable, irritable mess most of the last two weeks, just the most impatient sick patient ever. Whenever I feel ill for more than 5 days that’s when I really start to lose my sh*t.

Yesterday, the last day in May, was spent entirely at home carrying around my latest appendage (box of tissues) and annoyingly coughing every 30 seconds. While I was willing myself to be magically better, I noticed something else happening: as if I were emerging from a gooey cocoon husk of illness and into the bright summer sun, I began to feel a sense of joy and lightness again. Like, wow life is still beautiful? and delightful? and lovely? Who knew?!

Here are a few small luxurious things brightening my life right now:

White hydrangeas from Trader Joe’s

IDK what magic beans this particular vendor has access to but these flowers last a ridiculously long time (sadly, only the white variety; I’ve tried the blue and pink ones and they wilt so quickly). I cut & plop the three stems in a vase filled with plain water (seriously, that’s it) on my bathroom sink, and as I long as I refresh the water and give them a little trim every 7 days or so, these babies last 3-4 weeks. I think last year one batch lasted 6 full weeks. Not kidding. I now find myself lingering at the sink just to be next to their vivacious and everlasting beauty.

Rebel Keto Ice Cream

How have I been sleeping on this ice cream brand for SO LONG?! I’ve been on a low-carb, low-sugar diet for years now after developing pre-diabetes postpartum, and I thought the ice cream ship had long sailed away for me. Lo & behold, this decadence in a pint cup was so unbelievably good, I had to triple-check the label to make sure my eyes were not deceiving me. Mint Chip is my OG flavor, but I also got the Peanut Butter Caramel Chip. Don’t mind me over here just swooning with my spoon.

The Size of Your Joy by Elise Powers and The Names by Florence Knapp

In the beginning of May I tore through books like it was my paying job (but seriously…can it be? Someone please hire me). I started and finished four books in less than a week (two novels, two memoirs, all very good! Ask me for recs.)

Since falling ill, I’ve been too irritated and uncomfortable to even think of holding a book up to my face, and instead resorted to scrolling and watching shows on my phone. But yesterday, I finally picked up two recently purchased books that I’ve been eager to read, set myself up in a lounge chair out in the backyard along with my tissues & tea, and intermittently (because, toddler, IYKYK) dipped into both books throughout the day.

The Size of Your Joy is a debut poetry collection by one of my favorite modern poets and there are already so many that I’d like to print and frame so I can re-read them all the time. Poems about girlhood, womanhood, motherhood, and more. More than once I had to pause to consider whether Elise was reading my own thoughts.

A month ago I picked up The Names at my local bookstore during one of their spring publisher events. It’s a debut novel (look at all these women debuting their brilliant work and just knocking it out of the park on their first go-round) about a mother charged with registering the name of her second child, a son. Told through three different timelines based on which name she decides to give him, it’s a heart-wrenching and thought-provoking read so far.

The sounds of love

What a joy to sit outside in the sun with a new book, while listening to my husband and son playing and laughing together in the living room as they built a castle and car wash(?) with Magnatiles. Even better: the clear rattle of the screen door opening and sneaky feet making their way toward the back of my chair to “surprise” me.

The tissues and tea and cough drops are still by my side today, and I’m doing okay.

Happy June.

//

CR

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I’ve been noticing changes in energy (within myself and others), decisions happening quicker, more information being exchanged, big emotions surfacing, impulsivity and action ramping up.

The debris has finally dislodged and the river is flowing at speed.

Ironically, February felt like such a long month for me, and March was similarly sluggish. It makes sense: we were still in winter mode, and nature’s new year (the astrological, ancient one) didn’t arrive until March 20th on the Spring Equinox. I was also very much concentrating on my health during these past two months, and I am happy to report that things are much more stable.

Now that it’s April, spring is arriving, and I can take a full breath again. For the first time in years, I’m also feeling a small sense of relief and stability that I’ve truly missed.

A lot of this has to do with life in general, but the main focus for me, is (surprise, surprise), money & finances.

The world today seems insane / on fire / calamitous at every turn. It’s so hard to be cheerful and hopeful at all about the future, whether it’s one year, ten years, or fifty years from now. It’s all very doom-and-gloom out there.

I’m not discounting that—the reality is we are bearing witness to systems and structures crumbling before our eyes and we’re left looking at the rubble like: wtf do we do with this?

I don’t have the answers, and I can’t predict the future, but what I can do is continuously remind myself (and maybe you, too) that meaningful progress is not an all-or-nothing, instantaneous event. It happens in the tiny moments of living, every day, one day at a time.

I’ve been slowly working to regain a sense of financial stability in my life, and truthfully, it’s often felt like one step forward, five steps back. It’s hard to see or celebrate any progress when the things I most want to achieve feel incredibly out of reach.

Last year I was feeling especially stressed and worried about money. I felt like I never had enough, I wasn’t able to properly save, and I was stuck in the credit card cycle trap. The one thing I knew was I had to rebuild from the ground up.

The foundation is the most important part of the house, right?

I went to work redoing my budget, switched from a very loose tracker to a zero-based budgeting system that helped me assign every dollar a job.

I set up a fully automated financial system that now transports my money to its various assignments (bill pay, debt payments, savings, investing, spending), all without me having to think or spend the time on it.

Then I prioritized rebuilding my Emergency savings first and foremost, and simultaneously contributing to a separate Sinking Fund to use as cushion for monthly or irregular spending (and to avoid relying on credit cards to bridge any gap).

So far, I’ve been able to replenish my Emergency Fund to $3,000 (up from $0 in the fall of 2025), and added $1,500 to the Sinking Fund.

I spent much of yesterday reflecting on the progress I’ve made in the last few months. I still want a robust emergency fund (6+ months) and to blast away the credit card debt (currently totaling $21,930, but down from $25,000!). Both of those things are going to take time, and my mantra right now is: I’m okay with that.

Although I’m still pretty far away from hitting all of my specific money goals, just seeing the savings balances, and knowing I’m about to pay off 1 of 3 credit cards in the next month, has me feeling giddy. I’m really doing it! I started where I was (which felt like rock bottom) and implemented realistic and meaningful changes. Little by little, I’m seeing and feeling the progress. Things are shifting, and I’m working hard to stay the course.

How are things feeling for you in this moment? Noticing any big shifts energetically, financially, or otherwise?

Reply to this email or leave a comment and let me know how you’re doing/feeling/dwelling in this new season.

xo,

CR

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I had a health scare on Monday night that left me traumatized and bone tired. Although I am now stable and doing ok, it makes sense that I might take the week off and not publish anything.

The reason you’re reading these words at this moment is because writing is, and always will be, a balm to my soul. Letting the words flow out is my process for understanding life, especially in times of great uncertainty.

Therein lies the question of the moment: what, if anything, can we be certain about?

The events of this week have thrown me into a liminal space in which I’ve had to pause my normal operating system of planning and plotting ahead. Call this tendency what you will (anxiety, eldest daughter syndrome, perfectionism) but I’m known to always have Plans A, B, C, and X, Y, Z at the ready for whatever comes my way. It’s long been a strange comfort for me to mentally map the course of how any situation might go, accounting for variables, charting out worst-case scenarios to make sure I am 110% prepared.

Truly bonkers, I know.

Years ago, I read an article about this “doomsday” type of over-planning where the author suggested a potential benefit: when shit really does hit the fan, people who tend to ruminate on worst-case scenarios tend to be much better equipped to deal with the obstacles at hand, simply by virtue of the practice of thinking through how they might handle any ordeal. Even if they encounter something they haven’t specifically considered, they are more likely to jump into action because they have a mental “guidebook” of sorts to help them take the next best step.

It’s probably no surprise that I enjoyed this take, purely because it felt like being handed a permission slip to merrily continue with my over-preparing ways. Don’t worry; I got everything covered and I’m worrying enough for all of us!

Now, a new fear has slipped into the driver’s seat and hit the brakes: what if there can be no plan?

Thinking of worst-case scenarios right now feels too emotionally devastating. Thinking of best-case scenarios feels entirely too delicate to hold.

What’s left is an uncomfortable void.

In this in-between, I must venture forth moving throughout my days, from one moment into another, without tethering myself to any future thinking. I’ll be honest: I don’t like it one bit. The tendrils of my mind are still grasping for something to latch onto, any wisps of what-ifs that could offer some semblance of support.

The problem is, the what-ifs aren’t real.

Making checklists and outlining scenarios and organizing to-dos based on potential outcomes is residing in a state of wanting so desperately to know, even when knowing is all but impossible. I’ve always thought this process brings me comfort but maybe all it actually creates is an inability to truly meet each moment as it arrives.

I joke that if I could choose one superpower, it wouldn’t be flying or invisibility; I would chose to be all-knowing: nothing kept a surprise or secret, understanding everything and everyone at all once. At heart, I am an information-seeker, I enjoy asking all the questions, absorbing any information I can get, and making plans and sub-plans based on whatever I can gather.

I’ve lived most of my life in this way, thinking I’ve been protecting myself and others with all of this intensive prep work when, in fact, I think it may have been protecting me from actually living.

This life is not about all-knowing. The human experience is this: we are standing in an ocean, sensing the continuous motion of the tides, without ever fully knowing the exact moment the water will arrive, or with what form or force it will take when it washes over us. All we can do is bear witness to each wave, feeling it fully and then responding to it with the best of our ability.

This shift feels like a vital change to how I’ve been operating, the antidote to a venomous cycle of overthinking and attempting to control every little moment of life. This not-knowing, in-between is a place I’ve long avoided, fearing it would be too much to bear. Actually, I’m realizing it’s been keeping me from being here now, experiencing the existence of it all.

Maybe this sounds akin to the concept of nonattachment, but I don’t think it’s quite that. It’s more like allowing for the full spectrum of human emotion to emerge, with the only “known” being that I won’t be able to protect myself or anyone else from pain, disappointment, or heartache. What I’m currently learning to accept: I can’t ever prepare or plan for exactly what’s going to happen; instead I can trust—and know—that within myself I have the ability to meet each moment with my full heart, and go from there.

//

CR

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I love a good system.

Give me order, give me structure, give me a seamless behind-the-scenes operation.

These days, anything that helps reduce my task load and mental burden is a win in my book. And if it also helps me to save more money? Even better.

I’m talking about one of the best upgrades I recently made to my budgeting system: automating my finances.

Essentially, the idea is to utilize available mechanisms like direct deposit, auto-pay, and automatic transfers to help save time—and money—each month.

Setting up a good automatic system can help eliminate the friction when it comes to saving, paying bills, and generally allocating every incoming dollar. It still involves budgeting to some extent (you’ve got to know your numbers: how much you earn and how much you cost each month), and takes a bit of time to set everything up, but once it’s all in place, your money can start moving and grooving for you.

Here’s how I’ve set up my own system:

• Direct deposit. I get paid twice monthly. Right off the top, I’ve directed a small amount from each paycheck to go into a savings account at one online bank, while the remainder goes into my checking at my primary bank.

  • I like to have my emergency savings in a totally separate place from where I manage the majority of my money. Just to add a little bit of friction / reminder of “don’t touch this unless it’s an SOS 🛟 situation”.

  • A percentage of each paycheck is also directly paid into an employer-sponsored 401k.

• Auto-pay. All monthly bills are set to auto-pay.

  • This includes: rent & utilities, subscriptions, insurance payments, credit card minimums, preschool tuition, and student loan payment.

• Automatic transfers: These are transfers created within my banking portal to pull money from my checking account into other checking and savings. These are scheduled for twice monthly, the day after each paycheck arrives.

  • For example: my portion of rent & utilities goes into a joint checking, and all of our auto-payments for those bills are set to pull from there.

  • I like to add a little extra to each expense category to accommodate any fluctuating amounts (e.g. utility bill) and to build up a cushion.

• Automatic investments/savings: I have set up external automatic contributions each month going into a personal taxable brokerage account for investing, plus a 529 contribution for my kiddo.

  • I also have auto-transfers going to a couple of savings accounts/sinking funds to ensure I’m saving properly for irregular expenses that pop up throughout the year.

Now my money flows where it needs to go, and precisely on time!

Before I went full automation, it felt like a huge chore to sit down with my budget and ensure everything was getting paid by the due date. (I’ve definitely been guilty of sending rent 2-3 days late, simply because the 1st of the month fell on a weekend!) Often I would even overshoot how much I had leftover to spend, which resulted in me whipping out a credit card or stealing from my own savings to cover the deficit. Not great, Bob!

This way, the guesswork and most of the manual work is gone, so I know exactly what is coming in and going out, and I barely have to lift a finger. The ways in which automated finances benefits me are plentiful. The best ones include:

• Paying myself first. The golden rule of personal finance! Saving is a bill I owe to me, and now it gets “paid out” via an automatic transfer into its designated account, just like the others.

• Never missing a payment. No more checking due dates or having a payment posted late. OR having a zillion calendar reminders yelling at me to pay things on time.

• Having guilt-free money to spend. This might be my favorite. The only money that doesn’t move on its own, is the money leftover from my paycheck after EVERYTHING is covered for the month, including all bills, savings, and debt payments. This means that the number I see in my checking account two days after my paycheck hits is the money I get to spend on what I need (or what I want!)

I still check in with my money each month. It’s important to review everything regularly, i.e. confirm correct bill amounts, review transactions, ensure all the automations are working as they should. It’s not quite a set-it-and-forget it system. It still requires a consistent check-in process.

Also, I recognize that this system works well for me, a 9-5 gal who knows exactly how much and when I’m getting paid each month. I recognize that this is not the case for everyone, but I still believe you can automate in a way that works for you.

• This might look like setting your automatic transfers to lower amounts, and then if you have a higher-earning month, you can manually move the extra money around as needed.

• Maybe you’d like to know all of your bills are getting paid on time, so you set everything you possibly can to auto-pay (often you can even choose or request to change a billing date to better accommodate your income schedule).

• It could look like setting a different cadence; maybe you know you can confidently setup transfers to flow every other month, or even on a quarterly basis.

• Maybe the one thing you focus on is automatically saving, setting up a minimum amount you’re able to put into a savings account, on your recurring cadence of choice, so you are taking care of yourself, first & foremost.

Keep in mind that personal finance is personal for a reason: there is no one-size-fits all! That’s why I believe it’s so important that we read, learn, share, ask about all of this stuff, together.

On that note, if you’d like to dive further into how money experts approach automation, here are a few of my favorite resources:

• Ramit Sethi / I Will Teach You To Be Rich

• Tori Dunlap / Her First $100K

• Katie Gatti Tassin / Money with Katie

Thanks for reading, as always,

CR

The best version. What even is that?

As a recovering people-pleaser and perfectionist, I’ve often had this impulse to correlate my accomplishments to my self-worth. There’s always an effort to do more, to go above and beyond, to make everything so flawless that no one can fault me for anything.

I think this started quite young for me: I’ve always hated the feeling of being in trouble, so when I learned that I could try extra hard to do everything “right” and then I’d likely receive praise instead of scolding, you can bet your bottom dollar that it quickly became second-nature to do everything in my power to do so. You know, real gold star energy. 🌟

These impulses are well-worn into the grooves of my brain now, relentlessly strong if I’m not very actively working to soften and redirect them. They’ve journeyed well past aiming for high praises from my parents and teachers into seeking whatever adult me can afford to buy in order to elevate me into my best self.

One of my favorite writers on Substack, Hanna Horvath, has an excellent piece out this week all about optimization culture: essentially how we’ve morphed into a society obsessed with perpetual self-improvement and will readily buy whatever product or experience is promised to make us better in some way.

This is the engine that makes consumer culture work: aspiration. The gap between who you are and who you want to be. The feeling that something is missing, that you’re not quite enough, that if you just bought the right thing or did the right routine or optimized the right variable, you’d finally arrive.

We’re literally buying into the belief that we’re not enough, so once we purchase [insert product], everything will be better!

I ask this: is perfectionism, at its root, not a capitalistic construct?

If perfection is the aim, but we can never actually be perfect, then we turn into something truly great (for capitalism, anyway): the perfect consumer. We just keep buying and spending on all the “problems” we need to fix. We’re constantly being told what ails us, then being sold the cure, an exhaustive and untenable loop in which the only thing really achieved is a profit turned.

For me, perfectionism is also good buddies with ambition and overachieving. They’re all keen on this idea of “more, more, more” which lies in direct opposition to "enough”. It’s hard to stop the train of wanting to be your best self, when it’s the story you’ve been told for so long, the goal that should be your ultimate aim in life.

All of this really got me thinking about why I even started this Substack in the first place, why I chose the name wild unambition as the container in which to write.

I’m tired of the never enough feeling.

I want more room for people and things to exist simply as they are, faults and all.

I want less reinvention, makeovers, rebrand (🤢), leveling up.

I want space for inviting growth that doesn’t involve buying a perfectly packaged product.

Consider this: without even trying (or buying), you are in fact already growing into a better version of yourself.

To paraphrase my favorite online yoga teacher: you are not the same person you were ten years ago, one year ago, one month ago, one week ago, one day ago, you are not the same person you were when you woke up today.

We are constantly shifting and growing and learning and changing, often in subtle and imperceptible ways. Sure, there are times when we can choose to work on the parts of ourselves that may need a little TLC, but we don’t have to force ourselves into brand-new identities or appearances. Certainly not in the name of being your “best” self, because—spoiler alert—you’re already there.

Look, I’m not immune to the consumer cycle and its promises of cure-alls. Over the years, I’ve bought my fair share of supplements and beauty tools, drank the Kool-aid green juices, slathered on the fancy face serums, bought the fitness class packs, read the self-improvement books.

For years I jumped on the wellness wagon, desperately seeking the ultimate version of myself in body/mind/spirit, buying into trends, thinking the next supplement or workout or beauty regimen held the key to getting me where I wanted to be.

Now, in my late thirties, I’ve been asking myself often: where do I want to be?

And I actually love that I don’t really have an answer. Or a plan.

Don’t get me wrong, it also absolutely terrifies me. No plan??? In this economy???

Monetarily speaking, I want to be consuming less (i.e. spending less/saving more money), and part of that includes being honest about what I actually need, or getting creative with what I already have.

More generally, I want to allow my life to unfold as I go without trying to make everything about it THE BEST. Some things are great, some things not so much, some things are just okay. Such is life. I don’t want optimization; I’d much rather chase curiosity.

I want to exist just as I am, while still taking care of my self, in body, mind, and spirit—in ways that feel nourishing, sustainable, and delightfully imperfect for me.

//
CR

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Well, I just did the opposite.

A few days ago, I decided to take a $660 chunk out of my savings to pay the balance on a lingering credit card whose 0% APR just recently expired last month. Impulsive? Yep. Irresponsible? Well, yes and no…

The $660 felt like such a small amount, so totally in reach of being gone quickly. It was really motivating for me to see a $0 balance and to then close out the card (bye!) making it one less debt to worry about. Paying debt means I’m being responsible!

That said, I’ve been trying to build up that savings balance, and I effectively just cut it in half by making that payment. I didn’t completely deplete my reserves, but I did allow my emotions to completely take over, and it could come back to bite me.

While I wouldn’t necessarily describe myself as impulsive (I’m typically quite thoughtful and rational), I do know my emotional side is STRONG. When something tugs at my heartstrings or gets me riled up, I can sometimes jump into action before fully thinking through the entire situation.

So it is with money.

When I think about how money makes me feel, this is what comes up:

worried, tense, stressed, burdened, ashamed, guilty, regretful, frustrated, annoyed, confused, overwhelmed, and also hopeful, interested, wishful, optimistic, excited, eager, curious

It’s a lot of things. Not necessarily all at once, but I do cycle through a lot of these whenever I think about my finances (which is, frankly, a lot of the time).

I’ve had a fraught relationship with this area of life for as long as I can remember, certainly since I entered college in 2006, and to a lesser degree as soon I started earning cash from babysitting around age 9.

As a kid and then teenager, I had some understanding of needing to earn money to pay for things I wanted. I grew up comfortably lower-to-middle class, and I didn’t really think or worry about money much as a kid, but I did sense that my parents had their own worries about it. Eventually I learned they struggled with debt and overspending (and under-earning) and likely made some highly emotional, possibly impulsive, financial decisions that didn’t turn out well.

I did have a savings account early on and I started contributing to it when I got my first on-paper job at a restaurant at age 16. I was told by my parents not to spend all of my money but to put some away “for a rainy day”. However, I’d say the overall financial education I received was mostly vague platitudes about money’s importance in life; unfortunately, I missed out on any practical how-tos of personal finance that would have been helpful in showing me the full picture in a way I could relate to, helping me to grasp exactly how much and why I should be saving.

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I’m sure you’ve heard money described as a variety of things. Money is a tool. Money is a resource. Money is energy. Money is essential.

I’ll add: Money is emotional. No matter how much or how little one has of it, no matter how expert or unaware one is in managing it, money is more often than not going to be tied to some pretty strong emotions and feelings. I’ve found that it then becomes pretty difficult to extricate oneself from the relationship patterns and habits that are driven by those emotional impulses, often learned & ingrained from an early age.

Hopefully at least some of the things we learn when we’re young are healthy & beneficial to managing our money once we reach adulthood. But it’s not always about spending too much; sometimes it can be about saving too much. Sometimes the root of a difficult pattern comes from a place of “never enough”.

An elder in my family grew up in poverty and worked their way to building their own profitable business that allowed them to live a comfortable life. However, the fear and stress and shame of early childhood experiences with money (or lack thereof) has led this person to lead a pauper’s life in their senior years, still worrying constantly about the prices of a cup of black coffee, refusing to move from a potentially dangerous living situation, and effectively shutting everyone out in order to spend as little as possible.

All I’m saying is: money + emotions encompasses a full spectrum of experiences. It’s not an easy thing to be in relationship with.

It’s not easy—and I’m still hopeful and willing to change my own personal finance habits to cultivate better feelings about money for my future self.

With that, let’s go back to my situation from the past week: I know that I’d like to wave a magic wand and disappear all of my debt right now, but that’s not possible. What is possible: I can give myself the information of when I can expect that debt to be gone, so I spent time breaking down each of my remaining debt balances into monthly payments, giving me a “payoff date” for each one.

I’ve also taken my monthly budget and broken it out even further into two pay cycles per month. This way, I can see in detail where every dollar is headed from each of those paychecks (first to pay bills and put into savings), then what’s earmarked for monthly spending via my debit card, and importantly, the exact amount I have leftover to pay toward my most immediate debt.

The idea is to curb the impulse to throw every liquid dollar I have at a credit card balance; I know exactly what I can afford to pay from each paycheck, while still saving money and setting myself up for future success.

On that note, allow me to rewrite my emotional script for the future.

When I think about money, I feel:

abundant, free, resourced, effortless, generous, delighted, excited, fascinated, lighthearted, benevolent, connected, secure, responsible, confident, peaceful

CR

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It’s Thursday and I’m back, just like I promised myself (and you, dear reader!)

This week was the first full week of January, the inevitable post-holiday slump, and a return to work after a two-week break. Even though it’s the start of a new year, we’re still very much wintering in this hemisphere, so I’ve had to remind myself to move slowly and drop the urgency around being super “productive” right now.

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That said, I did feel a bit of energy and motivation to sit down with my budget this week, so over the course of the last few days I’ve spent time making adjustments to various categories, double-checked automations (automatic transfers I’d previously set up to funnel into different savings or bill pay accounts, auto-pay for each of my 4 credit cards, etc.), and worked on some projections for debt payoff.

Ultimately, this exercise was helpful in that I have a very clear picture of my money: how much is coming in, how much is going out, and what’s leftover.

But therein lies the sticking point (for me): what do I DO with what’s leftover?

Each of my financial responsibilities right now feels like a Very Important Payment to make. Whether it’s paying myself first (i.e. savings) or paying a debt (credit card or student loan), the amount of money I have left after handling all of my financial responsibilities, isn’t enough to fully tackle everything. But everything feels like it’s on fire, and I have to somehow choose which one gets a bucketful of water.

Intellectually, I understand that savings is just as important (possibly more—at least at first) as repaying debt, because the truly vicious cycle of credit card debt is most often perpetuated by lack of access to available funds. If something unexpected comes up, or something costs more than anticipated, and I don’t have the liquidity to pull from a savings account to cover it, that’s when the credit card inevitably comes back into play and a balance can balloon up again quickly.

But psychologically, if I have a chunk of change sitting in a savings account and I see my multiple credit card balances, some of which may be accruing daily interest, all I want to do is dump every single available cent toward that, because it feels like a raging inferno that must be stopped at all costs.

One of my biggest financial struggles is sticking to a financial order of operations. It makes sense on paper: some actions simply have to happen first in order to reach other goals with money, e.g. I know I’ve got to stash away more in savings before aggressively paying off my debt. It’s just felt tough to actually make that happen when I get so emotionally wound up seeing how much debt I have hanging over me, and I just want it GONE.

Well—new year, new me, right?

This really is one of the habits I’m hoping to change this year, and beyond. It’s not about pretending the debt doesn’t exist or that it isn’t on fire; of course it really needs to be dealt with as swiftly as possible.

But in order to STOP the cycle, I need to infuse my savings first & foremost, so that I’m at least partially protected for a potential emergency, and also so that I don’t have to borrow money on credit for irregular or surprise daily life expenses. I need to pay myself first!

Speaking of getting paid, the other piece of the puzzle is I simply need to earn more. It’s taken me a while to recognize money for the tool that it is, and not something that defines who I am as a human. I’m not greedy or money-hungry to want more money to flow into my life (that’s me reminding myself; it’s taken me a while to get there). I don’t need billions (ick, NO individual does), but I know that earning more would not only help me to achieve my short-term financial goals, it would afford me opportunities to live more in alignment with my intrinsic values.

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That’s it for now; more to come soon.

Can I please just take a moment to gush at how much I appreciate you reading this, if you’ve made it this far? I’m so glad you’re here. Thank you.

I think next week I want to dig into the emotional/psychological side of money. Let me know if you have any thoughts or feelings on this aspect in your own relationship with money!

CR

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I realize how cliche it is to be starting something today, of all days. Technically, I started this Substack many months ago, but I only published two short posts in the year 2025, and I’ve felt pretty stuck on what I even want to write about. I was trying to keep it broad so I could write about anything I wanted, but in an effort to avoid going too niche, I ended up not writing anything.

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But today, after spending a few hours on a “money date” with my husband in an effort to kick off the new year in a good financial place, inspiration suddenly struck me: Why don’t I start writing about my complicated, rollercoaster-y, love/hate relationship with money, and see what comes of it?

So I’m just going to come out and say it: I’m in debt. (Mainly: credit card debt, but also an annoyingly clingy student loan as well.)

Want to know my number? $25,953.00 in credit card debt as of today, 01/01/26.

I feel a lot of shame and guilt about this. I know I’m not alone. (I actually have a theory that these days the majority of people carry around some debt, but I don’t really know/haven’t been able to test this, because not enough of us are talking about it!!!)

I’ve been taking concrete steps to pay off this debt, and to stop accumulating new debt. It’s been hard. I can get into the nitty gritty of why and how another day, because it’s not a secret to me: I know how I got to this place, and why I haven’t been able to dig myself out yet.

The reason I’m sharing this number right now—today—isn’t necessarily about “new year, new me” vibes of declaring this debt payoff a 2026 goal (which it totally, absolutely, 100% is, to be clear).

It’s more about the fact that I’m tired of pretending that everything is fine, when really everything isn’t.

Here’s the good: I am so very wonderfully fortunate to have a career of steady, seemingly stable work that provides me a decent salary and benefits. I am able to share many high costs of living with a partner. I am generally healthy and well. I enjoy my daily life.

Here’s the bad: I was underpaid for a number of years in a very high cost-of-living metropolis, and during that time I got pregnant and had our first child way more quickly and traumatically than expected. Between stagnating salaries, inflation, absurd medical & childcare costs in the U.S., and high emotional and mental stress over the span of 2-3 years, I got myself into a gnarly debt hole.

What now: Like I mentioned, today’s “money meeting” was helpful in several ways. As a household, we got caught up on end of year/holiday expenses, and audited some 2025 spending. I updated my numbers across multiple credit cards, savings accounts, and revisited my goals (both debt payment and saving).

And maybe it’s the spark of the New Year, but after going through all my numbers and spreadsheets, I started to feel this glowing ember of an idea: what if I start writing here about money—yes, about the goals part, but also about what lies deeper: the juicy and shadowy relationship-level stuff, like lifting the veil on emotional & impulse spending, getting granular on what I want to financially achieve and WHY (so important), and digging into how life really revolves around money (even though I wish it didn’t).

Thursdays are my favorite day of the week, and since it also coincided with today being January 1st, I'm going to make this my weekly writing day (I sincerely hope I can keep it going past the mid-February burnout, statistically when most New Year’s “resolutions” are dropped).

Thanks for reading if you’ve come this far.

CR

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in honor of my rediscovered love for this art form, today i am sharing something i just found in said Notes app yesterday:

a spark of a thought, at dinner
i see an infinite branching
of the largest tree
there’s just a million me’s
walking around on any given tendril of time—or
maybe not walking
maybe already gone
my heart jumps to think of it—
a joyful shiver at the thought
of how much i love this life
mine, me, with all i am
and all i have
what a wonder.

-CR

I’m doing a sort of unofficial intro for my very first post, to rip off the metaphorical bandaid and start exercising my writing muscle again.

All my life, I’ve wanted to be a writer. And all my life, I’ve been a deeply-rooted perfectionist. Two opposing forces, a set of parallel paths that can never cross.

Well, how does that old aphorism go—you have to dig through all the muck and dirt before you can find the gold? I do think you must be willing to make a bit of a mess before you can get to the good stuff. I’m not actually that willing to make a mess, so I will be forcing myself (in a loving way) to let go of my perfectionist tendencies and just do the damn thing: write. And then of course, click publish.

Anyway, let’s begin.

Hi, I’m Chloe Rian.

I’m a writer based in California, living with my husband and young son in the city ‘burbs. I’m outgoing when I have the energy, but I’m mainly introverted and feel most at home, well…at home.

I love pretty much anything to do with books. Libraries and bookstores are my happy places. I’m especially opinionated on kid’s books these days, now that I’m reading (and re-re-re-reading) a big stack of them at a time.

After I gave birth, I was flooded with bits and pieces of poems that would come to me at all hours of the day and night, so much so that I started creating a small collection of poetry centered around becoming a mother for the first time. Perhaps I’ll share some of it here with you soon.

There’s so much more, but let’s stop there for now.

If you’re reading these words, I love that you’re here, and I hope you’ll stick around for what’s to come.

Great to meet you,

CR