Where money meets online leadership, I’ve got THEORIES.
Most of us really sucked at it at some point.
We attach our worth to our ability to make it and our ability to help others make it.
We’re terrified to admit when we feel scarcity around it.
We’re equally ashamed to celebrate when we earn an abundance of it.
We crave more industry transparency around it.
And right up ‘til the economy started crashing the fuck out, threatening to bury our businesses in the debris, it was pretty easy to get away with ignoring all of the above.
But suddenly, it’s not just our internal dialogue screaming about money — it’s the only thing we can hear on the outside, too.
I.
You already know I hate keeping secrets, so my financial history has been a pretty open book in the public eye. I’m a firm believer in the power of “same,” and am eager to expose myself in an effort to alleviate the shame of the collective.
I’ve publicly spoken about:
- My self-destructive party-phase (cough, cough: an entire decade) where I worked upwards of 14 hours a day but never saved a dime because all the non-working hours were benders
- Living in overdraft when I met my husband because I had zero financial skills, and him bailing me out so that I could start at baseline
- Taking out a large loan to float our agency team, only to realize we weren’t fulfilled by that path and dissolved that income stream before recouping it
- Moving to LA in a state of financial depletion, and making the decision to sell a property we’d spent the last two years planning our future around so that we could bail ourselves out and rebuild
The “same” has been resounding.
With every money mistake I pull back the curtain on, my DMs flood with confessions.
My comments fill with Ithoughtitwasjustmes.
We posted a podcast episode earlier this week going into gruelling detail around our dance with debt over the past decade of building our business, and no surprise, it’s been our most popular.
I won’t deny that it takes a level of gall to let it all hang out the way I have, but it’s also much easier to speak openly about financial-oopsies-past because it doesn’t break trust, it builds it.
I’m honest about how much money we make, spend, save, and invest, just as I have been about the money we’ve lost — and because I share about the challenges, the celebrations have an even brighter shine. It nets out as inspirational, the “started from the bottom” framed in the glow of “now we’re here.”
But what happens if it gets fucked up “here” too?
We’re all sitting with that question right now, reaching for our phones to type quippy Threads about the recession while unironically scanning for job postings at the coffee shop we co-work from on Tuesdays.
It’s one thing to open up through old anecdotes, but another to document our money stories as they’re unfolding right in front of us.
II.
We’re itching to bring up money because it’s been burning a hole in our brain, but how to talk dollars without being doomsday or delulu is becoming increasingly elusive.
Regardless of where you fall — stressing about a slower Q1 or exhaling because you emerged unscathed — it feels risky to be real, and wrong to be quiet.
To be the girlboss posting that your personal brand is “recession-proof” is absolutely not the vibe, but to be the one who hops on TikTok to weep about losing $50K in stock investments isn’t doing your business any favours either.
It’s been normalized to post videos of your luxury car and call it a sales strategy, but what may have been ~aspirational~ two years ago is completely out of touch.
You’ve been encouraged to build in public, but every Story admitting money’s tight is another count towards the “no one’s gonna make it” tally.
Now especially, lack is a trigger and excess is a bruise.
So how the fuck are we supposed to maintain our community’s confidence in our ability to lead them through this, and also, like… not lie?
I’m proposing something radical:
Telling the Neutral Truth.
III.
The problem with most money talk online is that it’s so goddamn loaded.
That video of your G-Wagon isn’t taunting ‘til it’s paired with a caption promising it’s just one course away. Having fewer inquiries isn’t spooky szn ‘til you’re peppering your platforms with blanket statements about a crumbling industry.
The theatrics of social media have made it impossible to just state something matter-of-factly, to let something simply just BE.
Not as-you-want-people-to-think-it-is.
Not as-you-know-will-get-better-engagement.
As it IS.
Or as it isn’t.
“I exceeded my Q1 revenue target by $10K.”
(Not “I had my most profitable quarter by using the strategies I sell in all my programs!!!!”)
“I set a launch target that I only reached half of.”
(Not “proof that no one is buying right now!!!!”)
“Our stock investments are down $15K.”
(Not “now is the time to start building your legacy through your reputation!!!!”)
“We saved enough to pay our taxes for the first time in seven years.”
(Not “the economy crashing isn’t an excuse not to reach your goals!!!”)
This concept is novel in the marketing world because engagement-driven algorithms make it in our best interest to control the narrative, to become our own brand’s spin doctor, to shape our stories to spark response.
Whether playing up the positive or catastrophizing the worst, as long as we’re influencing their conclusion, we can predict it.
When we over-embellish, we self-preserve.
The Neutral Truth asks us to abandon the armour.
To offer up our reality more bravely, more bare.
It’s “I love you,” without the “say it back.”
The Neutral Truth still elicits a reaction — we’re just giving back their right to decide what it’s going to be.
IV.
As challenging as the current ~state of things~ may be for all of us, leaders are the keepers of the collective.
Right now, the collective doesn’t just need “same” — they need hope.
But without facts, it’s the false kind.
The Neutral Truth allows us to share our reality without manipulating theirs.
𐄂𐄂
