How Childhood Experiences Affect Your Money Mindset, Self-Worth, Financial Anxiety, and the Way You Invest in Yourself
By QueenB.Divine | Don't Crypto on My Mental Health
Notice this. By the time I was in Grade Three, I had already started positioning myself for a life I didn't even understand yet. And I'm not talking about sitting up straight in class, although, good grief, we'll get to posture because some of us are sitting in front of these computers looking like a question mark. I'm talking about the position I believed I held in my family, in the world, and eventually in my own mind. The position that quietly taught me what I deserved, what I didn't deserve, and how much I thought I was worth.
Now, before you start wondering what the hell Grade Three has to do with investing, money, cryptocurrency, or financial success, stay with me. Because I'm learning that sometimes the biggest investment mistakes don't begin when you open a trading account. They begin years earlier, when you're a little kid trying to figure out where you belong.
But first, how are you? Seriously. How's your mental health? How's your body? Have you had a moment to yourself lately? I was going to ask how your weekend was, but with so many people working from home, working different shifts, or staring at screens all day, who even knows what day it is anymore? One thing I do know is that if you're investing all your energy into making money while neglecting your physical and mental health, you might eventually find yourself with something you worked hard to achieve and very little energy left to enjoy it.
And that brings me back to Grade Three.
I was a little girl growing up in Ontario Housing in Scarborough, Ontario. My life was changing faster than I could understand it. I had been introduced to siblings I was still getting to know, and suddenly I wasn't just figuring out school anymore. I was figuring out family. I was figuring out who I could trust, who liked me, who didn't, and where the hell I fit into this new arrangement.
I was the youngest, the only Canadian-born child among my siblings, and I had a completely different understanding of family life from some of the people I was now sharing a home with. They had their experiences, their language, their way of seeing the world. I had mine. Sometimes I didn't understand what they were saying. Sometimes I didn't understand what was happening around me. But children learn quickly when they feel they have to.
And somewhere in all that confusion, I started learning something else: how to make myself smaller.
Here's a question people ask when they're trying to understand themselves: Can childhood experiences affect your relationship with money as an adult? From where I'm sitting, absolutely. Not because every financial decision can be blamed on childhood, but because the beliefs we pick up when we're young can follow us into places we never expected. We can carry those beliefs into relationships, jobs, businesses, investments, and even the way we respond when something good finally happens.
I didn't know any of that in Grade Three. I was too busy trying to survive being in Grade Three.
I remember my friend Samantha. We had some good times together. And then, just like that, another transition. I left the comfort I had started to build around Prindle Gardens and moved to the Corvette Avenue area, where I attended another school. New surroundings, new classmates, new expectations. And there I was again, trying to find my position.
Have you ever noticed how exhausting it is to constantly feel like you have to prove you belong somewhere? Now imagine doing that before you've even figured out your multiplication tables.
I was still living in Ontario Housing, so it wasn't as though I'd suddenly moved into some fancy neighbourhood where everybody had more money than me. But kids have a remarkable ability to find something to make another kid feel uncomfortable about. Clothes, shoes, the way you speak, where you live. Good grief, children can turn a perfectly ordinary Tuesday into an emotional obstacle course.
And while all of this was happening at school, I was still trying to understand my position at home.
I had imagined family life looking a little more like Leave It to Beaver. You know, the television version where everybody has a place, the house makes sense, and somebody probably solves the day's problems before bedtime. Well, let me tell you, my childhood wasn't exactly delivering that particular television package.
There was yelling. Fighting. Chaos. Arguments. Socks and batteries flying around in memories that still make me shake my head. And somewhere in the middle of it all was a little girl who didn't feel she had much of a voice.
I was the youngest. I didn't feel particularly powerful. I didn't feel particularly important. And looking back, I can see how easily I began confusing my position in the household with my actual worth.
That's a dangerous little misunderstanding to carry into adulthood.
Because when you grow up believing your voice doesn't matter, you can become an adult who struggles to speak up. When you grow up feeling like you don't belong, you might spend years trying to earn a place at tables where you should never have had to audition. And when you begin believing you aren't worth much, money can start looking like the thing that's finally going to prove otherwise.
Which brings me to another question: Why do some people chase money even when making more of it doesn't make them feel better?
I can't speak for everybody. I'm not a psychologist, and I'm certainly not sitting here pretending I've figured out every corner of the human mind. But I can tell you what I recognize in my own story. Somewhere around Grade Three, I began associating my circumstances with a feeling of lack. Not just lacking money. Lacking importance. Lacking confidence. Lacking that comfortable feeling of knowing I belonged.
And when I began recognizing that we were poor, something shifted. Money started looking like more than money. It started looking like an escape route.
Maybe if I had enough, I could feel secure. Maybe if I earned enough, I could feel successful. Maybe if I became successful, I could finally feel worthy.
Notice how quickly a dollar can become responsible for a whole lot of emotional work it was never designed to do.
Now, years later, here I am learning about investing, looking at financial platforms, trying to understand digital assets, cryptocurrency, and the whole complicated world of growing money. And do you know what's fascinating? I'm discovering that before I can understand my financial position, I need to understand the emotional position I'm making decisions from.
Am I investing because I've researched something and understand the risks? Or am I investing because I'm terrified of missing out? Am I being patient because I have a plan? Or am I waiting for some magical windfall to rescue me from a feeling I've been carrying since childhood?
Those are two very different conversations.
Can a scarcity mindset affect investing decisions? I believe it can, and it's something I'm learning to watch in myself. When you're used to feeling like there isn't enough, every opportunity can start looking urgent. You might chase something because you're afraid it will disappear. You might panic when an investment drops. You might take risks you don't fully understand because you're desperate to get ahead. Or you might be so afraid of losing money that you never give yourself the chance to learn how to manage it.
That doesn't mean people who grew up poor are destined to make poor financial decisions. Absolutely not. It means our personal histories are worth examining before we let our emotions make expensive choices.
My mother used to say something that stayed with me: How you do little things is how you do everything.
And the older I get, the more I think about that sentence.
How do I speak to myself when I make a mistake? How do I respond when something takes longer than expected? How do I handle disappointment? Do I celebrate small progress, or do I dismiss it because it isn't some great big success story?
Because that's another thing I've been learning about investing. Everybody wants to talk about the big wins. The money. The freedom. The lifestyle. The moment when everything finally pays off. But not enough people talk about the waiting, the uncertainty, the research, the mistakes, and the mental energy involved in trying to build something.
Dreams can be expensive. Not just financially, but emotionally.
When you're working from home, sitting in front of a computer, trying to build a business or understand investments, it's easy to convince yourself that every waking moment should be productive. You sit longer. You worry more. You check the screen again. You compare your progress to somebody else's. And before you know it, you've invested your entire day into something while forgetting to invest five minutes into yourself.
Good grief. What kind of return on investment is that?
And yes, I'm going to bring up your actual posture now.
Sit up straight. Move your shoulders. Get up from the chair once in a while. Give your eyes a break. Take a drink of water. I'm serious. Your body is carrying you through this entire financial journey, and it deserves some attention too.
There's something almost funny about the word position. As a child, I was trying to find my position in the family. At school, I was trying to find my position among other children. As an adult, I'm trying to understand my financial position. And while I'm doing all of that, I sometimes have to remind myself to check the position of my actual body.
Life really does have a sense of humour.
But underneath that humour is something I want you to consider.
How do you rebuild self-worth after growing up feeling like you weren't enough?
I don't think it happens by waking up one morning, looking in the mirror, and shouting that you're a millionaire until your reflection believes you. Affirmations can be meaningful, but they aren't a replacement for understanding what you're actually feeling.
For me, rebuilding starts with noticing. Noticing when I'm making a decision out of fear. Noticing when I'm comparing myself to somebody else. Noticing when I dismiss something I've accomplished because it seems too small to count. Noticing when the little girl who felt powerless is still trying to run the show.
And instead of getting angry with that part of myself, I'm learning to understand her.
She didn't know about investing. She didn't know about emotional patterns or money mindsets. She didn't know she would grow up and have conversations about cryptocurrency, self-love, and mental health on the internet.
She was just trying to get through Grade Three.
And you know what? She did.
That deserves something.
Sometimes I think we get so busy chasing the next achievement that we forget to acknowledge the person who carried us this far. The child who survived the confusion. The teenager who kept going. The adult who made mistakes and still found the courage to try again.
Maybe your story isn't about growing up in Ontario Housing. Maybe you had a comfortable childhood but constantly felt criticized. Maybe money was never discussed in your house. Maybe you grew up hearing that wealthy people were greedy, that poor people were lazy, or that wanting more for yourself was somehow selfish.
Whatever your experience, it's worth asking whether the beliefs you inherited still deserve a place in the life you're building.
And here's something else. What if investing in yourself has nothing to do with spending money today?
What if your investment is finally having an honest conversation with yourself? What if it's learning one new financial term instead of pretending you understand an entire market? What if it's deciding you won't make financial decisions while panicking? What if it's resting, stretching, setting a boundary, or recognizing that your worth doesn't rise and fall with the value of your investments?
Because I don't believe financial success should require us to abandon our emotional well-being.
And I certainly don't believe a difficult childhood gets to decide the ending of our story.
Grade Three was tough. Grade Four? Oh, good grief, that's another conversation altogether. But looking back, I can see that those early years helped shape how I understood belonging, money, confidence, and self-worth. They didn't write my entire future, but they left questions I've spent a lifetime learning how to answer.
So here's what I want to leave you with today.
Before you position yourself for your next investment, your next business idea, your next financial goal, or even your next relationship, ask yourself one question: Am I making this decision from a place of courage and self-respect, or am I still trying to prove I'm worth something?
There's no shame in discovering that some old beliefs are still hanging around. But there is an opportunity in recognizing them.
You can learn something new. You can change your approach. You can give yourself time. You can celebrate progress without demanding that every little step become a spectacular victory.
And please, for the love of your back, sit up straight while you're doing it.
I'm QueenB.Divine, and this is part of my journey of learning about investing, money, mental health, and the childhood experiences that quietly shaped the way I see all three. I'm not here to give you financial advice. I'm here to share what I'm discovering, ask questions, and hopefully encourage a few honest conversations along the way.
Now I want to hear from you. Did something happen in your childhood that still affects the way you think about money, success, or your own worth today? Share your thoughts in the comments. You never know who might recognize a piece of their own story in yours.
And if you're learning to invest in your finances without sacrificing your mental health, follow along and subscribe. We've got a whole lot more to talk about, including what happened in Grade Four.
Remember, your financial position can change. Your posture can change. And the position you've given yourself in your own life can change too.
Self-love and self-care will get you there.
— QueenB.Divine
This is a personal reflection, not financial or mental health treatment advice.
My other post
Your Crypto Has a Middleman Problem ...Damn
But How the Hell Do You Know? A Crypto Lesson I Had to Learn About Life
The Colour of Survival: What Walking to the Nail Salon Taught Me About Crypto, Risk and Being Okay
Your Crypto Portfolio Might Be Green While Your Life Is Broke
