$pent Millennial

Dear Reader,

What does security look like to you?

For many of us — especially women — security is what we’re really chasing when we think about money. Not wealth. Not luxury. Just the ability to breathe a little easier and trust that we will have what we need when we need it.

Security looks different for everyone.

For some, it’s a paid-off house. (Something I can still only dream of at this stage of life.)

For others, it’s as simple as a new pair of shoes — or even a spare set of shoelaces tucked in the closet. A backup plan for the day your carefully glued soles finally give out.

Security can also live in our mindsets. The quiet mantras we repeat to ourselves.

For years, mine has been the steady reminder: 

I’ve been broke before. I’m not afraid to be broke. I know how to live broke.

And it was true. I’ve lived off a sack of potatoes. I’ve opened cabinets and a fridge that held more hope than food. I learned how to stretch, substitute, and survive.

I’ve worn that experience like a badge of pride. Proof that I was resilient. Capable. Tough.

But beneath that pride was something else: control. Knowing I could survive with very little made me feel safe — even when I no longer needed to live that way.

Frugality became my security blanket. Spending only what was absolutely necessary. Saving whatever I could. And there’s nothing inherently wrong with that — especially when it doesn’t feel restrictive or deprived, and when it allows you to meet real needs without guilt. 

But over time, frugality can quietly turn into a rigid set of rules instead of a flexible tool. The goal shifts from making thoughtful choices to simply avoiding spending at all costs.

The challenge comes when the habits that once protected you stop evolving with your circumstances. You’ve lost the plot, as they say.

Saving for a “rainy day” quietly turns into stacking money for the sake of stacking it. 

Watching account balances grow shifts from building security to hoarding it — losing sight of the purpose those savings were meant to serve in the first place.

That’s when we have to remind ourselves: sometimes spending some money is actually the most financially responsible choice, even if it’s uncomfortable in the moment.

Yet, even when we understand this in theory, it’s still complicated in practice.

Because once you’ve built systems that work — savings that exist, bills that get paid, emergencies that don’t spiral — it’s easy to start confusing stability with permanence.

The urgency that once shaped every decision softens. And yet, the instinct doesn’t disappear. Because scarcity has a long memory, and it doesn’t take much to wake it back up.

It flares when income slows. When expenses spike. This is when you need to be reminded that these systems are meant to be used — not just admired from a distance.

I’m finding myself here now in the slow, raw, intentional process of recalibrating what security looks like in this season — learning how to live in the middle.

Where the work becomes re-writing intention – not through the lens of scarcity, but from a place of awareness, alignment, and choice.

Because the truth is: it’s easy to get comfortable being… comfortable. When systems are in place,, and the money does what it’s supposed to do, the problem is no longer survival — it’s comfort. The edges soften. And without noticing, spending decisions can drift away from intention.

But when that comfort gets disrupted — by a change in income, an increase in expenses, or an unexpected reminder of uncertainty — the old urgency can rush back in fast.

This is when we have to remind ourselves: you’ve got this. You have the tools, the resources, the skills. You’ve done this before — and this time, you’re doing it from a place of stability, not scarcity.

So, what does this look like in practice? 

Well, last week, a routine oil change turned into an unexpected car expense. And while I didn’t love it, I felt something else alongside the frustration: gratitude. The sinking fund I started at the beginning of the year was there. The money covered it.

Yes, it meant dipping into savings. But that’s the point. The funds were doing exactly what they were designed to do — providing security.

And I had the chance to, once again, remind myself that the security we work so hard to build should not become a prison.

The resources we build are meant to be used, not hoarded, and security isn’t about never spending the money. It’s about knowing it’s there when you need it. 

As we close out a year filled with uncertainty, anxiety, and more than a few moments that left us feeling spent — emotionally, financially, all of it — and as we look ahead to new goals and fresh starts, I’m coming back to this question:

What does security look like to you?

Maybe it’s a $5 pair of backup shoelaces.

Maybe it’s an extra $100 in the bank for a car repair.

Maybe it’s the privilege of a paid-off home.

Or maybe it’s somewhere in between.

Wherever you are — that’s okay. The work begins with defining what security means for you and then taking one small step toward it.

May you close out this year with gentleness toward yourself, gratitude for what you’ve built, and trust in the systems — and strengths — you’ve put in place.

Until next year- take care,

Everett