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Life comes from Death

Updated: Feb 8

& so does the Worthiness of Money

For several weeks, I've been urging myself to make a change. Over the past year, I've felt like I've been pushing myself too hard in a way that just didn't feel right. It's become clear to me that my focus should be on my studies. Letting go of my old business, Beyor Bookkeeper, LLC, at the end of 2023, marked a significant shift for me. Money has always been a source of tension, but it took on a new significance when I started to move away from my previous venture and pursue something that truly resonated with me.

Money has always been a secret in my family. My dad was a silent man. If you asked him a question he wanted to say no to he'd just pretend he didn't hear you. This was usually the case with money. He had a history of taking care of his family, from his parents on up to his children, with money and belongings. At his funeral, one after another described him as, "A good provider".

It's no wonder I feel trapped when it comes to money. With my father's passing, it feels like not only did I lose him, but I also lost a certain way of dealing with finances. It's heartbreaking but true. My Dad was a sweet man in many ways. He was silly and kind. He was the one person who had the right thing to say when I came out. But damn - when it came to being there for me in other ways he left me short of words and actions that showed that he believed in my value to make and keep money of my own.


A week before my father's passing, I chose to tap into my savings to sustain myself while I focused on my studies and refrain from pursuing an income for the next 10 months. I aimed to prioritize endeavors that align with my goals and avoid allowing financial concerns to dictate decisions that may not serve my best interests.


Weeks following my father's passing, I transferred the funds from my savings to a more accessible account for living expenses. The next day, I stumbled upon the exact amount of cash tucked away. It felt like a silent reassurance from my dad, as if he were saying, "I've got your back—again." Had he been alive, I would have grappled with feelings of guilt and indebtedness. It's disheartening how death can alter perceptions and dynamics so profoundly. It's sad how death can change everything. Why is it that my worthiness has to come from death?

After leaving my bookkeeping business, I started to feel aimless. That business had provided a semblance of validation, adhering to my father's notion of a conventional profession. However, it never quite satisfied his expectations, as he persistently inquired about my pursuit of a CPA license. Despite my explanations that I chose bookkeeping to leverage my existing skills for personal freedom, I got the hunch that he thought I was lazy or not "smart" enough.

Back when I applied to RISD (Rhode Island School of Design), someone mentioned to me years later that my dad had this idea that he wouldn't need to worry about footing the bill because RISD was too competitive, and I probably wouldn't make the cut anyway. But you know me, when I set my mind on something, I'm determined to make it happen. It's funny, I inherited that stubborn streak from my dad, even though he may not have realized it. Still, knowing that he harbored doubts about my abilities stung, and it's something that lingers in my thoughts to this day. I try to counter that narrative by reminding myself that I'm capable of achieving anything I set my mind to, even if those closest to me underestimate my potential. But let's be real, his silence and the possibility that he didn't fully believe in me can't help but cast a shadow over my aspirations, making it harder to pursue my dreams with unwavering confidence.

That being said, the secret cash in the drawer, changed the script. It made me think that maybe what I believed or thought I knew about my dad was all wrong. That all he wanted was what he said to me that day when I came out to him about being Polyamorous in his office.

"All I want is for you to be happy, are you happy?"

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