I have to be honest. I have to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God: I still, to this day, find myself struggling with believing that people will actually pay me my worth.
Now, don’t get me wrong—I’m not where I used to be. Those days of scraping every dollar, stretching meals, and negotiating with bills just to make it to the next month, those days are behind me. I’ve moved past that space of constant survival.
But I also want to be real with you: I’m not where I desire to be either. I’m still growing. I’m still building. I’m still walking this path toward the kind of wealth that not only sustains me but sets me free. So while I’m doing better than I used to, I am still very much in process. And sometimes, that process is messy.
The Battle with Believing in My Worth
Even now, with contracts that are bigger, invoices with more zeros, and projects that are reaching levels I used to pray for, I still sometimes wonder: Will they really pay me for this? Will they actually send that wire? Will the deposit come through?
And it’s not because I don’t know I’m good at what I do.
Because I know.
I know I’m amazing at what I do. I transform businesses. I create strategies that work. I design systems that change the game. I’ve always had the talent. I’ve always had the ability.
The difference is that now…I’m getting paid for it.
But here’s the truth I don’t often say out loud:
There are still moments when I hesitate before sending an invoice.
Moments when I feel a tiny knot in my stomach right before I quote my price.
Moments when I want to cut my own rate before they even have the chance to question it.
And it’s not because I don’t believe in the work. It’s not because I don’t know my value. It’s because for so long, I watched myself—and the women around me—do good work for little pay.
We didn’t know how to ask for more.
We didn’t know we could ask for more.
Where My Money Wounds Came From
I grew up watching people hustle—really hustle. I watched my parents and the people around me wake up before the sun and come home long after it had set. I watched them work jobs they didn’t love for money that barely covered the bills. That was the model. That was the blueprint.
I was raised with the idea that if you worked hard, you’d have enough. And I believed that. I believed that money came from grit, from sacrifice, from long hours and late nights. I didn’t grow up seeing people negotiate salaries. I didn’t grow up hearing people talk about how much they made. Money was this quiet, secret thing.
And so, I took that into my own life. I worked hard. I over-delivered. I showed up early, stayed late, and made sure I was the best. But when it came to money? I would shrink. I would soften my voice. I would second-guess the numbers I knew I deserved.
I would say yes to rates I knew were too low.
I would over-deliver just to feel worthy of the check I was getting.
I would hold my breath after sending an invoice, half-expecting them to say, Actually, that’s too much.
The Work of Rewriting My Narrative
And listen, I have done the work. I have sat in workshops and listened to money mindset coaches talk about value and worth and knowing your numbers. I have read the books. I have journaled the affirmations. I have unlearned, relearned, and affirmed my own value.
But the thing about money wounds is that they don’t just disappear because you learned something new. You have to walk it out. You have to confront it every time it shows up.
I still find myself in negotiation meetings sometimes, and I can feel that old part of me rising up, the part that wants to say, “I can lower it if that’s too much.” I have to catch myself. I have to silence that voice and replace it with the truth:
My work is valuable.
My expertise is transformative.
My rate is not up for debate.
And it’s hard. Because I still remember when I was doing the very same work for a lot less. Not because I didn’t have the skills back then—but because I didn’t know how to ask for more.
I’m Still Walking This Out
I want to be clear: I’m still learning.
I’m still growing.
I’m still having those moments where I look at the number on the invoice and I have to breathe deep before I send it. I still sometimes wonder if I should cut my rate, soften my ask, make it easier for them to say yes.
But I’m learning that my rate is my rate.
I’m learning that I don’t have to justify it.
I’m learning that my value doesn’t decrease just because someone else can’t see it.
I’m still on the journey to my ideal financial self.
I’m still walking this out every single day.
And while I’m not where I used to be, I’m still moving forward to where I want to be.
Let’s Talk About It
I want to know—do you still hesitate when you name your worth? Do you still get that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you ask for what you deserve? Tell me your story in the comments.
Because Sis, it’s time to stop being afraid of the money that’s meant for you.
Continue this conversation with women just like you in Wealthy Women Conversations on Facebook. Join us, share your story, and discover how slowing down can create space for more.
Slower, Wealthier, Happier 
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