The Cost of Feeling Safe
The silent inheritance
It started with an innocent email from school:
"Pajama Day is Monday!"
Adorable.
Fun.
Wholesome.
Until I opened my daughter’s pajama drawer and my soul left my body.
There they were. Her “best” pair.
Green and red snug fit. Long sleeves. Dancing Santa hats.
It’s May.
In Texas.
85 degrees.
My brain immediately spiraled:
How am I supposed to send her to school in these?
She’s going to look like we don’t have it together.
Other moms will have their kids in freshly bought, on-theme, pajama sets.
I opened the Target app like it was a medical emergency.
Pastel unicorns.
Glow-in-the-dark stars.
Matching sets with eye masks.
The dopamine hit harder than my morning coffee.
“She’s growing.”
“They’re on sale.”
“She’ll be SO excited!”
I could already see her squealing.
We were going to have a moment.
Then mid-scroll, mid-fantasy, the Holy Spirit tapped in:
“Didn’t you pray about this exact thing yesterday?”
RUDE.
But fair.
So I stepped away from the unicorns.
Because here’s the truth:
I wasn’t buying pajamas.
I was buying relief.
From my own discomfort.
From invisible judgment.
From the lie that my kid has to look perfect to be okay.
Fast forward to Pajama Day:
I show up for lunch.
And there she is in all her Christmas glory walking into that cafeteria like she invented pajamas.
Kids waving.
Hugging her.
Her smile? Blinding.
Her confidence? Unshakable.
Her awareness of being undeniably off-season in May? Zero.
And me?
Realizing I almost paid $14.99 to protect myself from a feeling she wasn’t even having.
Here’s the twist:
This wasn’t a parenting win.
This was my 9 year old teaching me a life lesson disguised as pajama drama.
Because every time I buy relief instead of sitting with discomfort, I’m training my brain to solve problems with money instead of wisdom.
Watching her walk into that cafeteria completely unbothered, radiating confidence in Christmas pajamas, I realized something wild:
Money decisions and parenting decisions flow from the same source: your values.
When I almost hit Buy Now,
I was operating from scarcity.
Fear.
The belief that what we have isn’t enough.
But my daughter?
She was operating from abundance.
Joy.
The belief that she’s enough exactly as she is.
I thought I needed to protect her from judgment.
She taught me something better:
Confidence doesn’t come from having the “right” stuff.
It comes from knowing who you are.
The real lesson:
Your relationship with money reflects your relationship with yourself.
Get clear on your values, and both your bank account (and your kids) will thank you.
Journal Prompt:
Where are you calling something a “need” that might actually be a performance and what feeling are you really trying to fix with that purchase?
Wellthy Wisdom of the Week:
Try the 48-Hour Cart Rule.
When you feel the urge to buy something emotionally,
leave it in your cart for two days.
If it’s still a yes, with a clear reason, buy it.
If not?
Congrats: you just broke a pattern.