Money
This post is not so much about motherhood but about money, particularly from the point of view of a female small business owner who has to set prices and grapple with questions around self-worth and money. Money is about who we are individually and collectively, how we feel about ourselves, what our work is, how we feel about that work and how society feels about our work. It’s about boundaries and exchange and motivation and art too.
I'm writing it during a cost of living crisis, in the country with the highest childcare costs in Europe (a fact which disproportionately affects women). Money has an absolute status - many things have a fixed cost - and a subjective one too, interplaying with our emotions, our backgrounds, our fears and our values.
All thoughts about money are influenced by privilege or lack of, and mine are no exception. They're evolving too and I imagine I'll have different things to say in a year, but hey maybe that's the case with everything? I’d love to know your response if it resonates.
I also want to link back to Ray Dodd’s work for helping me work out how I feel about all this stuff.
It’s a tricky time to consider money, with many of us feeling understandably anxious about how stretched things might get in our households and those of others in the next year or so. Some people's daily reality is a cold terror about how they're going to feed their kids that week, but I know plenty of people who are rich by my standards who are "worrying about money". What is enough, what is plenty? Answers are subjective, and though when I have more money I don't have to think about it as much, even when my income is high as I consider it I still have a vague worry about not having "enough".
As a small business owner I have found price-setting really difficult in the past, which I think comes from trying to please everyone, from worrying that people won’t think the thing was worth it, from fears of people thinking who does she think she is? if I charge what they perceive is “too much”. Pleasing everyone is, clearly, always impossible with any end, and money is no exception.
There is such a thing as a "going rate" for something, but of course there's often a lot of variation within that. The idea of “good value”, "expensive", "too much" and so on is subjective. Lots of service providers want their offerings to be “affordable", but there is no such thing, unless it's free, that is - again - you can't meet everyone's needs.
In the past I've been nervous about investing in certain things, particularly things like therapy or coaching or 1:1 sessions or certain trainings which felt expensive to me, and ended up feeling that it was the best money I ever spent. I suppose that’s another way of saying that money is elastic as well as set in stone.
I offer a range of services and experiences, some of which is free or low cost (like content or online classes), some of which are more expensive (like 1:1 services or weekend retreats). For everything I offer, there are cheaper alternatives in the area, for example yoga classes or doulas who charge less than I do.
This doesn't mean I think my services are better than other people’s: it's the price I've set that feels right for me, for what I'm offering based on who I am and what I know and the work and practice I have done and continue to do. So there’s also an intuitive aspect to charging and spending.
I don't want to charge sky high prices, just because I “could”, nor do I want to charge bargain basement prices - neither feels good to me. There is so much more than money AND money plays a part in creating a sense of worth. That’s the world we live in.
If I sense I’ve undercharged I end up feeling a bit resentful and I am not at my best. It makes it harder to believe in the value of my work, which I feel sure affects the likelihood of others believing in the value of my work. If I charge what feels “too much” for me at that time, it doesn’t feel safe for my nervous system, I don’t feel comfortable. It has felt better for me to titrate this, and slowly ask for a bit more each time I have a new client or repeat a workshop or experience (but not forever! There’s a point where it feels "right" and I stop, and/or the price is adjusted based on what someone is able to pay).
When I feel I am being paid well - or really well - I go above and beyond, I feel resourced to offer the very best of myself. I sometimes think that when I pay someone whose work is their calling, I’m not just getting the person who shows up at 11am for the meeting or whatever, but someone with commitment and passion as well as knowledge and experience, the person who read that book, or developed that idea, or who thought about that thing at 11pm last night and formulated it into their own version of something, in the way that only they could. You’re paying for their individuality and their life outside their work, because that life is also an element of their work.
People who pay me are getting someone who takes a lot of time thinking, reflecting, studying. They get my energy and my compassion and my enthusiasm and my ideas and also my attempts to be myself, resist perfectionism, not push myself too hard. If I’m listening to a podcast or lying in the dark trying to work out a thought or doing my own practice or writing my journal or nurturing my inner artist or taking a rest or so I am able to show up and be of service to others, they are kind of paying for all that - all my self-care and efforts before I appear on their doormat or inbox or Zoom screen. Sort of like a patronage. I do this myself with full support for the people I pay.
It’s a great privilege to think that people are paying me because they want ME as a teacher or doula or guide, along with the others they have chosen that support their preferences and range of needs (no one can be everything to one person).
When price-setting, I do think it’s useful to know what other people are charging but also not to be swayed too much by it. That is, find out if you wish but then discard that and go with an amount that feels right in your gut, that feels like it represents the value of what you do and works for you in a practical sense.
This can be really hard to do.
It is not greedy to want more money. It’s not unethical to receive great money, even/especially for caring work. Money can allow ease and bring joy IF other things are in place to allow it. To my mind there is also a morality associated with who we pay and how much. I have felt very uncomfortable in whats-app chats in local groups of mums where people are trying to find the cheapest cleaner or childminder or doula, as if they delight in paying someone the lowest amount possible (of course I understand the very real financial challenges families are facing right now and the disgusting policies that have landed people here, but I am talking about lack of care for how other women are paying for their bills and their children’s food for the week). If you can afford to, offering to pay someone more than they have asked is one of the best feelings for both parties.
Because being a parent has no money exchange in a society which places so much value on money, it’s not surprising that we feel shit for doing our hard work that few people truly see or appreciate. Add to that unaffordable childcare which makes life stressful and makes it harder to go out and work and be people in our own right and provide us with economic autonomy to spend money in an ethical way, then you have a lot of people feeling powerless.
In one sense money is neutral. What we spend it on is not neutral. So I like the idea of doulas & movement teachers & coaches & therapists & artists & small biz owners and yes cleaners earning good or great money.
When I charge more to someone who can afford it I am freed up to offer discounts generously and happily for those who cannot.
Charging low devalues the work of caring/helping/wellbeing professions, almost always offered by women. If we keep charging low the way these offerings are (dis)regarded by the world won't change.
Undercharging - or aiming to be “affordable”, a laudable aim - also undercuts other teachers and therapists and helpers and carers.
Anyone in these kinds of professions has spent £1000s on their own training and development.
A surprising number of these women are earning at the £10k-20k mark.
When you ask for a sum of money or someone asks you the price of something, naturally you are meeting with all of that person’s money challenges or anxieties. This is not yours to take on.
Money can be a motivator, but if I try and decide on the direction of my work with money in mind, it's always a bad idea. I don't feel inspired, the work sucks my energy, it feels lacklustre, no one gets me at my best.
When I feel clear on my purpose and know where and how to do my best work, it feels easier to set a price & - dare I say it - the money flows in more easily. My purpose is never about money. My work is about nurturing community, connection & creativity. It is embodied work, asking me to notice & respect & care for & learn about and be myself. It asks that I remember my own boundaries, my own cycle of energy, my need to rest and other natural cycles around me. I have to embody these things to do my work in a way that feels pleasurable and where I feel like I’m in flow and where it energises me in the way that work does when it allows us to truly be ourselves.
So in this sense it is generative - it helps others embody these things, which is not someone else embodying me or my ideas, it is facilitating a process where people come back to themselves and absorb and remember and live out certain universal themes. So I think this work is powerful.
See, I’ve stopped talking about money, but I haven’t exactly, because when I work with all this in mind, I feel in right relationship with my true work and that work does have a price. It is up to me to decide on that price. I have bills to pay AND I am extremely lucky compared to many. I try and remember that my work is not a success because one thing made me good money by my standards or sold out (or a failure if it didn't). My work is a success when it makes a difference, when I am in flow, working within my own zones of genius, when it brings me joy and inspiration, when it give me enough rest & space to go on to create similar, more, greater work.
And when that happens money feels ok, is ok, is sometimes more than ok.
This is a good time to talk about the Stretched Mums Yoga Fund! This fund is a way of subsidising places for classes, events and retreats for women who would struggle to pay for them, or receiving financial help to attend yourself. These events are vital time away for deeply stressed and stretched mums, supporting good mental health and helping individuals feel strong and connected in their bodies, minds and communities.
If you enjoy my content and/or like the idea of paying it forward to someone who really needs it, you can donate here, or find out more about receiving a discount here. Thank you.