I was talking with a friend recently about money and about the book I’m writing.

She shared how she and her siblings each related very differently to the wealth they inherited from their father.

One lost most of it, through generosity and investments that didn’t work out.

Two others spent it supporting family or causes: meaningful uses, but ones she wondered were also shaped by unresolved feelings about their father, not just their values.

For herself, she felt conflicted.
She described having “wasted” much of it — though from the outside, I could see that she’d also made some thoughtful, solid investments.

What struck me most wasn’t what they did with the money…
But how much emotion was wrapped around it.

The money wasn’t neutral.
It carried grief, loyalty, rebellion, guilt, and unspoken rules, even becoming a quiet taboo in her marriage because it was her wealth.

It reminded me why I’m finally writing this book.

I once heard an established author repeat some advice he’d been given:
Write the book because you need to, not because you expect it to make you rich. It won’t.

I understand that sentiment deeply.

I’m writing because it’s been sitting with me for nearly ten years.
Because I would be disappointed in myself if I didn’t.
And because if it helps even one woman feel more grounded, more confident, or less alone in her relationship with money…

…it will have been worth it.

We don’t just need better strategies around money.
We need more permission to talk about it honestly — with ourselves and with each other.