A few years ago, I stormed into my apartment, where my sister was lounging on my couch, watching TV. As she paused RuPaul’s Drag Race to say hi, I breezed past her and into my room.
“You okay?” she asked.
“I just need to cry,” I said, as I shut my door.
“Oh no! About what?”
The truth was that I was breaking down about money. Again. Even thinking about money made me nervous. I’ve always worked multiple jobs but somehow barely scraped by. I never budgeted. I never checked my bank account balance unless I got an overdraft notice. I never anticipated taxes or paid down my student loan or credit card debts. I only ever confronted my finances when I was in crisis mode. And once I’d somehow barely escape total doom, I repeated the process.
I considered lying to my sister, but I was too exhausted.
“Money,” I finally admitted. Then I sobbed for hours.
Crying more than three times a month about the same thing would seem to indicate a problem worth bringing up in therapy. But every week, my therapist and I talked about relationship doubts, family trauma, career jealousy — all the classic issues — without…
