Before the Soft Life, There Was $1

So, you’ve found yourself on my little corner of the internet, huh? Welcome, friend.

Somewhere along the way, I realized that I am the creative director of my own life. And while I certainly can’t control everything that happens to me, I have a hell of a lot more say over what happens next than I once believed.

Did I have this grand epiphany one morning, change my mindset, drink some green juice, and wake up living the life of my dreams?

Girl. I wish it were that easy.

The woman you see today is the product of years of pain, strength, resilience, discipline, questionable decisions, better decisions, and a whole lot of growth. There was no overnight transformation. No vision board magically deposited money into my bank account. And unfortunately, I have yet to manifest a wealthy long-lost aunt who leaves me her estate.

This took work.

But before I tell you about the life I’ve designed, I should probably tell you why I decided to start designing one in the first place.

When did I realize the life I wanted was something I would have to create for myself?

Let me take you back to 2018.

I didn’t quite know myself yet. I wasn’t necessarily responsible. And I drank bad liquor because, quite frankly, that was what the budget allowed.

I was between a rock and a hard place financially and barely had enough money to cover my bills. Somehow, though, I could always scrape together enough pennies for some cheap malt liquor to drown my sorrows in.

Priorities, apparently.

Between the early hungover mornings, my 600-square-foot condo, and a mentally taxing job, I started asking myself a question that I couldn’t shake:

When did life get so damn depressing—and why had I started believing this was what I deserved?

Was this really it?

Work until you’re dog tired. Eat crappy food because you’re exhausted. Get drunk on the weekend because you’re exhausted. Recover just in time to go back to the job that made you exhausted in the first place.

Rinse. Repeat. Direct deposit.

I couldn’t accept that this was all adulthood had to offer.

So I started searching.

I wanted to understand what real happiness looked like. What was out there beyond the little world I had created for myself? What did genuine joy feel like? And, maybe most importantly, how could I create my own little slice of heaven here on earth?

That question became the beginning of my spiritual journey.

But apparently the universe decided enlightenment wasn’t enough.

She wanted to discuss my finances too.

And then came the $1.

We’ve all had that moment. You pay the bills like the responsible adult you’re pretending to have completely figured out. The house is taken care of. You’re taken care of. Everything that absolutely had to be paid has been paid.

Then you open your bank account.

And disrespectfully, there is almost nothing looking back at you.

Or maybe that’s just my story.

Because at one point, after paying all of my bills, I had exactly $1 left to my name.

One.

Not $100.

Not $10.

One American dollar.

And strangely enough, that little dollar became one of the most valuable dollars I’ve ever had.

Because I looked at my situation and made myself a promise:

I will never be here again.

I didn’t know exactly how I was going to change my life yet. I didn’t have some perfectly optimized five-year plan. But I knew that whatever I needed to learn, whatever habits I needed to change, and whatever temporary sacrifices I needed to make—I was willing to do it.

So I did something revolutionary.

I sat my ass down.

I stopped shopping.

I stopped eating out.

I stopped going out.

And for a while, I stopped trying to buy little moments of happiness while wondering why I wasn’t actually happy.

It wasn’t glamorous. Nobody would’ve watched that season of my life on Instagram and thought, Wow, goals.

But removing all of those distractions did something I wasn’t expecting.

It got quiet.

And in that quiet, I finally had enough space to start paying attention—to my money, my habits, my choices, my unhappiness, and eventually, to myself.

I started to grow.

And looking back now, I think that was the beginning of everything.