Most of the Pain You Grew Up With Could Have Been Prevented — By Money

"Money isn't everything." "Love is more important than money."

We've all heard these lines. Maybe we've even said them ourselves.

But I want to ask an honest question : is any of that actually true?

Because in my experience, the people who say it most confidently are often the ones who grew up without enough — the ones who learned early on that wanting more was somehow greedy, shameful, or naive. A coping mechanism dressed up as wisdom.

In Japan, where I grew up, there's a deeply ingrained cultural belief that wealthy people are somehow morally suspect. That wanting money is vulgar. That the noble path is to need less. Values ​​have been gradually changing with the times, but... — that conditioning runs deep. And I don't think Japan is alone in this.

Family troubles, constant parental arguments, hardships during childhood—

And if that was your experience, the effects don't disappear when you become an adult. They travel with you — quietly shaping the way you see yourself, relationships, and what you believe you deserve.

But here's what I want you to consider:

How many of those difficult moments — the arguments, the tension, the fear, the chaos — would never have happened if there had been enough money?

On the surface, a lot of family conflict looks like it's about personality, or love, or incompatibility. But underneath, financial stress is one of the most common triggers of all of it. The arguments between partners. The frustration taken out on children. The slow erosion of a person's sense of self-worth.

Even many of the mental health struggles that people carry for years — anxiety, depression, a persistent sense of hopelessness — are conditions that money, and the freedom it creates, would have prevented or significantly reduced.

This isn't a comfortable thought. But I think it's an important one.

Earning money is not something to be ashamed of. It is not shallow, materialistic, or a distraction from what really matters.

Money is what allows you to live as yourself. To protect your own dignity. To protect the dignity of the people you love.

Think about what financial limitation has actually cost you.

Dreams you couldn't pursue. People you couldn't reach. Places you couldn't go. Choices that were never really choices at all.

You came into this world with a life to live. How much of it has been spent constrained by what you couldn't afford?

And it's not just about you. Money directly affects the quality of your closest relationships. When you are financially stressed, you become a depleted version of yourself — shorter, more reactive, less generous, less present. The people closest to you feel that.

You cannot pour from an empty cup. If an entire country is starving and there is only one loaf of bread left, no one shares peacefully. That's not a character flaw — that's what scarcity does to human beings.

But when you are genuinely full — when your own needs are met — giving becomes natural. Generosity flows without effort.

It's time to let go of the scarcity mindset. The poverty mindset. The belief — absorbed somewhere along the way — that suffering is noble, that wanting is selfish, that you should be grateful for less.

You are someone who deserves abundance. Not as a reward. Not because you've earned it through enough struggle. Simply because you're here.

Recognize that first. In yourself.

And then go build a life full enough that you have something real to give.