And now, to bare my soul...
For me, I think it stems from family and religion and depression and a whole mix of other things. My family loves me of course and did the best they could, but we all have those deep-seeded thoughts our parents passed along. Money issues were a big thing for my family. Never enough. Always struggling. Making ends meet. So of course I grew up thinking along those lines. No one can make money doing anything they love. You have to go through the daily grind to survive. Put in your time. Just keep your head above water.
I know now that's not true. Money is only evil if you allow it to be. Money can only control you if you're willing to let it. Work doesn't have to be hard. Life doesn't have to be hard. Money is an exchange of energy and it's okay to make an abundance of it. But when you put up this block that says you don't deserve to make the kind of money to support the life you want, you sabotage your ability to bring in that abundance.
Deep, deep down I thought I had to struggle and make ends meet like my parents did. Even when my spirit was aching to take a different path I thought, no, this is how it has to be. You grow up, get a job (whatever you can find) and pay bills. That's it. But then, three years ago I met my wise boyfriend and came in contact with a lot of other wise, free thinkers who peeled open my eyes and said, that's not it. Money isn't the drive - purpose and passion is. Being happy is.
My dad gave me a little sailboat one year with Jeremiah 29:11 engraved on it:
"For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."
My thinking shifted a little then, but I still had a hard time accepting happiness. I thought, I don't blame God for the bad stuff that happens to me. I'm a horrible person. And I was so afraid to be happy because God would see it and take something away to teach me a lesson. Crazy thinking, I know. And the deep depression that started at age 17 didn't help matters. Who did I think I was? No use being happy when only sadness would follow.
I haven't been to church in a long time. Not because I believe it's a bad place, but because I've never felt comfortable in any that I've tried. It's always the same message and I don't feel lifted up, inspired, or loved once I leave the pew. Jesus wasn't about organized religion or church or formalities. He was about living life and giving all the love he could give. How could a person like that not want happiness for me? When I studied Jesus more, the thoughts I once believed slowly faded. So maybe I mess up now and then, but I deserve happiness and love and God wants that for me too. Why? Because he loves me. And why would someone who loves me want me to be miserable?
We deserve to live a beautiful life. Let's go get it.