Why Women Don't Want to Talk About Money

Isis is the goddess of healing, of holding it all together, of showing up for everyone who needs her. In her highest expression, she is devoted, resourceful, and extraordinarily capable. But in her shadow? She is exhausted.

And this is the first reason why women don't want to talk about money: they are already carrying so much that adding one more area of vigilance feels genuinely impossible.

Think about the mental load that the average woman carries on any given day. Work responsibilities. Relationships. Children, aging parents, or both. Emotional labor for everyone around her. Health. Home. Friends who need support. The invisible labor of planning, anticipating, coordinating, and caring -- endlessly.

By the time money enters the conversation, Isis in her shadow doesn't respond with avoidance out of laziness or apathy. She responds with the quiet desperation of a woman who has simply hit her limit. I cannot be responsible for one more thing. And so the entire topic gets pushed out the door -- not because it doesn't matter, but because she has nothing left to give it.

This kind of money avoidance in women isn't a character flaw. It's what burnout looks like when it meets a topic that demands presence, attention, and emotional energy she doesn't currently have.

Lakshmi is the goddess of abundance, prosperity, and divine flow. She is radiant, magnetic, and deeply connected to the idea that the universe is fundamentally generous. In her highest expression, she embodies a beautiful trust in life.

But in her shadow, that trust quietly tips into passivity.

This is the second pattern behind women and money avoidance -- and it's one of the more subtle ones, because it wears the clothes of faith. This is the woman who genuinely believes that abundance will find her. That the universe has a plan. That if she stays aligned, raises her vibration, and trusts in divine timing, the money will flow. She may have grown up in a deeply religious household where financial planning felt like a lack of faith. Or she may have spent years in the world of manifestation and law of attraction, where thinking about what you don't want is something to be carefully avoided.

Either way, the result is the same: a real, practical engagement with her own finances feels unnecessary or even spiritually counterproductive.

Why talk about money when you're trusting in something higher?

The problem, of course, is that trust without action is not faith. It's abdication. And the woman in Lakshmi's shadow often discovers this the hard way, when life circumstances demand a financial decision she was never prepared to make.

Of all the goddess archetypes, Persephone's story is the one that requires the most gentleness. Because her patterns around money weren't formed by choice.

Persephone, you may recall, did not choose her fate. She was claimed by her mother's fears, bargained away by her father's agreements, and swept into the underworld by a force far more powerful than herself. Her story is one of a woman whose life was shaped entirely by the decisions of others -- until she finally began to find her own power.

And in her shadow, this becomes the woman who genuinely does not see money as her domain -- because it never was.

Maybe she grew up in a household where finances were entirely managed by a parent, never discussed, never explained. Maybe she moved from her family home into a relationship where a partner took care of everything. Maybe no one ever handed her a seat at the financial table not because they wanted to exclude her, but simply because that's how it was done, generation after generation.

This is not a woman who chose to be uninterested in money. This is a woman who was never shown that money was hers to understand, to manage, to grow. Financial agency wasn't modeled for her. It wasn't encouraged. In some cases, it wasn't even considered.

And so the disinterest isn't really disinterest at all. It's a kind of inherited invisibility. A quiet, unconscious belief: this isn't for me. A story she absorbed before she was old enough to question it.

Her shadow work isn't about confronting avoidance. It's about gently reclaiming territory she never knew was rightfully hers.

Here's what I want every woman reading this to understand, no matter which of these patterns feels most familiar:

Disengagement from money was never neutral. It just felt that way.

Whether you stepped back from money because you were depleted, because you trusted something outside of yourself, or because no one ever invited you in -- your financial life kept moving forward without you. Decisions got made by default. Opportunities passed quietly. Compound interest worked -- in someone else's favor, or simply untouched.

The cost of women avoiding money conversations isn't always dramatic. It doesn't always look like financial crisis. More often, it looks like a decade passing and realizing you have far less financial security than you thought. A relationship ending and discovering you don't know where any of the money actually is. A dream -- travel, freedom, early retirement, starting something of your own -- that stays a dream because the financial foundation was never built.

The woman who says "I'm not interested in money" is still living inside a financial reality every single day. She is still paying bills, making spending choices, working for an income, and aging toward a retirement that will either be comfortable or not. Her disinterest doesn't exempt her from any of it.

And that, to me, is the most important reason to gently challenge it.

Not to add another item to an already overwhelming list. Not to shake her faith. Not to rush Persephone before she's ready.

But to say: you deserve to know this. And it's not too late to begin.