The other day, I got a message from a reader named Akiva:
“Yours is one of the few emails I get that I have to go back to later on my computer because I don’t have a browser on my phone. Always a good read.”
Akiva built a system to avoid distractions — no browser on his phone. And somehow, my emails made the cut for “worth coming back to.”
That message? It made my day. It reminded me why I write these emails in the first place.
It also got me thinking: why do people like my emails?
HERE’S MY SECRET (HINT: IT’S ABOUT NOT HAVING SECRETS)
I wasn’t born with good money genes.
I’ve bounced checks. I’ve spent emergency money on beer in Jamaica. I’ve felt that sinking feeling when I logged into my bank account and saw less than I expected.
So when I write these emails, I’m not writing from a pedestal. I’m writing as someone who’s been through it.
HOW THESE EMAILS HAPPEN
I listen.
Clients say things that stop me cold. I write them down. Readers send emails that stick with me. Conversations with family and friends spark ideas.
I steal from everywhere.
From my own financial missteps. From books (usually not about money). From ancient Jewish sources. I chew on ideas, let them simmer, and spit them out in my own words.
I laugh at the dark stuff.
Years ago, I owed money to a bunch of credit cards. Couldn’t sleep. So I drew little funny caricatures of what I thought represented the bank — gave them faces, personalities.
Stupid? Absolutely. But when I had to call them, I was smiling instead of spiraling.
(Say what, Avraham? You drew pictures of banks? Yup. Whatever gets you through.)
I don’t have a set time to write.
I know — goes against everything the pros tell you. But inspiration doesn’t check my calendar. I’ll have a conversation at 10am and by 3pm it clicks and I have to write. Almost like it won’t leave me alone until I do. I’m coining it writer’s poltergeist. (You heard it here first.)
I edit. A lot.
Three or four passes, minimum. My wife reads them before they go out — she’s better at grammar than I am. If there’s a typo, it means she was busy. 🤓
(For the record, this is my fourth pass on this email.)
WHY I THINK IT WORKS
My mom told me something recently.
When I was a kid — grade four or five — my teachers used to call me “transparent.” They could see exactly what I was feeling. I didn’t hide it.
I think I write with that same transparency today.
This whole financial thing seems like such a mystery box. And most of the stuff I read on finances is coming from an Ivory Tower — dry, detached, or hyped-up nonsense.
My hope is that by sharing my messy thoughts and finances, I give you permission to do the same. And that’s where the real financial healing starts.
HERE’S WHAT THAT MEANS FOR YOU
Most people think they need a better budget. A better app. A better spreadsheet.
But the spreadsheet is just a mirror.
If you’re avoiding it, there’s a reason. If you’re overspending, there’s something underneath. If you’re stuck in the same pattern year after year — it’s not a math problem.
Here’s the permission slip you didn’t know you needed:
You don’t have to have it all figured out. You’re allowed to be messy. You’re allowed to laugh at it.
You just have to be willing to look.
SO YEAH, AKIVA — THIS ONE’S FOR YOU
Thanks for reading. Thanks for coming back on your computer.
And thanks for reminding me why I write these.
It’s not to sound smart. It’s to be human. And to give you permission to be human too.
Not sure what’s underneath your numbers? Let’s find out.
Avraham
Your Financial Coach
P.S. A huge thank you to everyone who hits reply and shares their thoughts. It means more than you know. (Especially to my mother-in-law, who replies to every single email. Hi Mami! 👋 Happy Birthday! 🥳)
P.P.S. Got a story about your own money stuff — funny, messy, embarrassing, or otherwise? Hit reply to the email I sent you. I’d love to hear it. Who knows, it might even end up in a future email. (With your permission, of course.)
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