The Somatics of Scarcity is a 6-part exploration of how scarcity lives in the body, drives our obsession, shapes our relationships, and keeps us from what we truly need—and how turning toward it can begin to teach us abundance. I decided to talk about this specific topic because for many (perhaps ALL) of us, the subject of money invokes dread, fear, tension and a lot of SHAME, as if we did this to ourselves.
The problem with shame is that, it often drives more avoidance, because shame tells us that there is something inherently wrong with us. By talking about this openly, by speaking from the ‘I’, I want to show you that:
You’re not alone
That means this is not a personal fault but structural patterns that were imposed on us (maybe before we were born)
And it is our responsibility to change those (even if it’s just a tiny bit!)
The first step for me is to write like no one will read and publish when it feels really scary. I want to SAY. IT. ALL. The truth is: I am so done with being scared and ashamed.
This is the second essay of a six-part exploration of how scarcity lives in the body, drives our obsession, shapes our relationship to ourselves, others and money, and keeps us from what we truly need—and how turning toward it can begin to teach us abundance. In this essay, I look at how emotional scarcity impacts our material scarcity.
Ok, deep breaths !
Recently, I have started to understand that money points me back to the original wound. The wound of neglect.
I have had to contend with the fact that neglect had wired me for obsession.
Something I have developed over time, is this incessant need to prove that I am worth it. Convince strangers of my worth. For me, it has always been about intelligence. Because as Black female, I am CON-STANT-LY underlooked.
People often talk about obsession as if it’s a character flaw, something to be tamed or disciplined out of existence. But obsession is rarely about the person we’re fixating on. It is the body’s memory of hunger, reactivated by the slightest flicker of warmth. Neglect doesn’t just leave emptiness; it carves out a space where any hint of attention feels like oxygen. And so I chased. I fantasized. I attached meaning to crumbs because crumbs once kept me alive.
Heartbreak operates in the same economy. When we become aware how neglect has wired us for obsession (because our heart has been broken too many times), we go the opposite direction.
