What If Money Isn’t Proof — or Prison?
Rethinking value, fear, and meaning at work.
One of the most interesting tensions I’ve noticed and experienced myself, is between valuing your work and asking for money.
For years, money surrounded every conversation I heard: promotions, bonuses, new titles, market comparisons. There was always someone earning more, and with that, the comparison with others and the quiet sting of “not enough”.
And yet, when women asked for more, when they negotiated salaries or raises, it was treated as extravagant. There were always comments like “she doesn’t have so much experience” or “she is not so good at what she is doing”. I felt it too.
That tightness in the chest before saying a number.
That voice in my head, “Who do you think you are to ask for that?”
The early story
In one of my first jobs, I was offered a significant salary increase to move to another company. It felt exciting, almost unreal. Until a female business partner intervened, convincing decision-makers that my profile didn’t justify the number.
They lowered the offer.
And here’s the strange part: I felt relieved.
A smaller salary meant lower stakes, lower expectations, less risk of being exposed as “not enough.”
Looking back now, I see how confusing that moment was: fear of failure dressed as humility, relief disguised as self-knowledge.
That pattern stayed with me for years.
I used money as a mirror for worth; proof that I was doing well, or a reminder that I wasn’t.
And when that became too uncomfortable, I avoided the topic altogether.
Money was either validation or a trap and nothing in between.
The false binary
We’ve built a culture that treats money and meaning as opposites.
You can choose fulfillment, or you can choose success, but rarely both.
I don’t buy that dichotomy.
The most meaningful work I’ve ever done required real structure — contracts, budgets, agreements. The most practical work I’ve done only mattered because it served a larger purpose.
Purpose that ignores money burns out.
Money that ignores purpose corrodes trust.
The answer isn’t choosing sides; it’s learning to lead from both.
What money really reveals
I no longer see money as a measure of worth. I see it as a mirror; one that reflects our relationship with fear, permission, and value.
When we underprice or stay quiet, it’s rarely about ignorance or humility. It’s about safety.
When we overvalue money, chasing it as proof of our worth, it’s often about belonging.
We want to feel recognised, seen, secure.
But the truth is: money can’t give us those things. It simply shows us where we’ve stopped believing in our own value.
Relearning value
For women, especially those who have lived in performance-driven environments, this relearning takes time.
It’s not about confidence workshops or “money mindset” tricks.
It’s about self-trust.
To ask for what reflects our effort without shrinking.
To accept reward without shame.
To separate self-worth from market worth and still care about both.
A question for reflection
What would change if money stopped being proof, or prison, and became partnership instead?
A way to sustain your purpose, not replace it.
A structure that supports your energy, not drains it.
That’s the conversation I’m interested in; not how to make more, but how to make peace with what money reveals about how we see ourselves.
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If this resonates, you’re probably in that quiet in-between; no longer buying into old success scripts, but still figuring out what “enough” looks like.
That’s the real work: rewriting how we define value.
Book an Alignment Call to explore what alignment looks like when purpose and practicality finally sit at the same table.