How can I have as much fun making money as I do spending money?

Giving myself permission to be abundantly creative

I have a white board in my living room that’s full of affirmations and reminders to motivate myself while I’m job-hunting. The top line reads “Everything will be O.K.” and below that is “I live in trust and abundance.” Right in the center is this idea: “Have as much fun making money as spending money.”

Throughout my life, spending money always felt easier than making it. My family didn't prioritize monetary accumulation and the skill of making money was never explicitly taught to me. We lived a good life, but were never wealth-focused above time well spent, leisure, etc. We avoided flashy displays.

Nevertheless, I learned how to spend money just fine. I’m a good researcher and can find just about anything I need or want online. I zero in on tasteful options, and know the best spots to surface unique finds. Over the years I’ve spent hundreds of hours building my dream Mercedes and Porsche virtual configurations, browsing real estate on Sotheby’s, and perusing the antiques and collectibles on 1stdibs.com. This might be one reason I have $18,000 in credit card debt hanging around.

One thing about technology—it has lowered the barrier to entry for sellers to sell things on the internet, and for consumers to buy them. The virtual world is an incredible tool for consumption, but it also begs the question: Do we really need that much choice? Several studies have shown that having fewer choices can actually contribute to overall happiness.

From an early age, I enjoyed the process of shopping—browsing and choosing, trying on, and finding something that fit perfectly. First it was Hyde Park Village, then the International Plaza mall in Tampa that were home to some of my best memories, like purchasing my first bottle of fancy perfume from Carlton at Neiman Marcus.

To this day, offline shopping is still a favorite pastime of mine. Los Angeles is a treasure chest of vintage clothing and furniture stores, art galleries, book shops, and almost every brand and designer has a storefront. Once I get a new job, my reward will be a stop by The Row and Marni stores on Melrose Place to peruse; leather bags are my weakness.

And yet, I’ve realized that in order to operate in the positive, to accumulate wealth so that I don’t have to work my entire life, so that I don’t have debts and bills hanging over me forever, it’s imperative that I learn how to enjoy making money even more than I enjoy spending it. 

Anyway, I don’t really need anything anymore. There are still beautiful things I covet, but from a purely efficient perspective, based on my lifestyle and current space, few new things are true necessities. There are places I’d like to visit, but I’ve done a lot of that already too.

So this is good. Now I can focus on deriving enjoyment from creating wealth rather than expending it. I can find validation in providing value to others.

But it’s not simply that there’s nothing left to buy or trips to take. It’s a broader reorientation toward creative and expansive activities, ones that are valuable to others, rather than self-centered, consumptive ones. This evolution is part of a wholesale shift I feel within myself toward an inner abundance and inner power and away from fear, from a sense of lack, and from the ingrained belief that I’m only good at spending money and shopping.

Yesterday I had what some would call a breakthrough with my therapist. I explained to him that I often dream about a childhood friend’s family, the token rich friend and rich family I was exposed to from a young age. Why they appear in my dreams over and over had me befuddled, but in talking through it with him, we realized together that it might be because I was always in awe of their world, of their abundant and maximal lifestyle, while at the same time, I feared their strict rules, their tempers, and judged their taste. 

I found myself constantly thinking (1) that I had to behave a certain way around them, that my true self was not acceptable, and (2) that if I had their resources, I would do it totally differently. There was a duality between their generosity and hospitality—I received gifts, enjoyed many free meals and parties, and drove their expensive cars—and the strings attached to them. It was fun to be a part of their life, but I also felt like an interloper.

That friend and I love each other and are still close, but I never wanted to trade places with her. I appreciated coming home to my parents and my life, while a part of me was nevertheless fascinated and appalled by how her family lived. Perhaps I felt that my innate qualities were not compatible with wealth and abundance. My sensitivity, warmth, and deference were at odds with the qualities that were necessary for “material success.”

The process of learning how to meditate, voraciously reading, reflecting, and examining my unconscious beliefs to determine if they serve or hinder me, has revealed a fundamental miscalculation. Wealth appears in many forms, and monetary resources are but one out of many. There is no single archetype for personal success, neither is there an inherent badness or goodness to material abundance. 

What matters is that you uncover your valuable talents, put them to honest use, and deploy your abundance in ways that are thoughtful, responsible, and conscientious. 

Money isn’t intrinsically a curse or a lever for control, but it can be a conduit to doing good in the world, enjoying one's life, and passing on the wisdom and resources you’ve gained to those around you—and beyond, ideally.

While I’m excited at the prospect of a new job and renewed stream of abundance, which will facilitate more shopping, I’m even more excited at the prospect of being a valued creator, facilitating wins for others, and deriving purpose from creation over consumption.

I want my wealth creation to outpace my wealth consumption. As Jen Sincero would say, I give myself permission to be rich.