Fast forward to the beginning of 2016, having just given birth to my fourth child, already struggling for months with the autoimmune disorder that soon took over my life for the next year. My husband was in the thick of his darkest period of life: checked out of life, in intense pain, couch-ridden, and depressed.
We had just moved to San Diego, and our rent was exactly double what it was in Los Angeles...and it was up to me to provide financially.
The stress of taking care of our four kids, managing an autoimmune disorder that was ravaging my body from the inside out, and caretaking my checked-out husband, the stress of financial hardship was more than I could handle. We'd already declared bankruptcy before moving to L.A., and I knew that doing it again wouldn't solve any of our problems.
So I got on unemployment as much as I could while I figured out my next business launch, and our family survived on food stamps. When I'd see an influx of money, there was always worry of the next influx not coming.
In fact, I distinctly remember the feelings of shame, guilt, and hopelessness as I stood outside my car in tears, about to pump gas into our vehicle that wasn't even big enough for our family, with $7 to my name. In that moment, I had to decide whether to spend those seven dollars on food or gas.
Scarcity. Fear. Survival.
Those words described my feelings around money. And I knew deep down that for my external reality to shift - in my body, my marriage, my family, and my finances - my internal reality would need an overhaul.