Champagne Problems
On the morality of money, the power of the tongue and disdain as self-defense.
One day I will be wealthy and somebody will hate me for it.
Not because I did something strange for a piece of change—although some may assume.
And not because I built a business on deception or repackaged information you could have found on Google.
Chances are the discomfort will have less to do with what I did and more to do with what I represent. Money—whether abundant or scarce—makes people uncomfortable af. It raises major red flags. It invites suspicion. It shifts the narrative from:
“How did she do it?”. Genuine interest, maybe even aspiration.
To:
“What did she do?”. Eyebrows raised.
It stops being an aspirational success story and starts being a morality play. This is not a dig or judgement, but simply an observation of how I hear people talk about these scenarios. But also, a reflection on how I’ve become accustomed to downplaying my own growth so I remain palatable to others.
In my 30s I enjoy traveling solo, “lavish” dining experiences with friends and slowly building the vintage bag collection I once admired through glass. I was also once a girl who knew how it felt to come home to no heat or hot water. I’ve spent short stints living in a New York City shelter between housing. I remember going to the food pantry instead of aftercare when funds were tight and food needed to be put on the table1.
I say all that to say, yes, I live comfortably now but that wasn’t always the case. Also, knowing where I’ve come from is exactly what fuels me to reach for more—shoot for the stars, aim for the moon (RIP Pop Smoke). And sometimes it unsettles me knowing that the court of public opinion has already begun drafting a verdict about my future success before it’s even realized.
Maybe the real question isn’t just whether success or wealth changes a person, but also why it changes the way we see them.
Why do we root for the underdog until the underdog stays up?
Why do we like rags to riches stories until the riches stick?
And more importantly—do the stories we tell ourselves about success and wealth quietly shoot down our dreams before we ever have the chance to achieve them?
Everybody eats b
