When Safety Feels Scarce: Understanding Financial Anxiety

You can have a roof over your head, food on the table, and money in the bank—and still feel anxious about finances. If that’s you, you’re not alone.

Financial anxiety is less about numbers and more about nervous system safety.

It’s the racing thoughts when bills are due. The guilt when you buy something for yourself. The “What if it all goes away?” spiral—no matter how much you’ve saved.

Sometimes, financial anxiety pushes us into spending—not saving. It can even show up as overspending—when a sense of lack drives you to buy what you can now, fearing there won't be enough later.

Research supports this. In a 2025 study, individuals experiencing scarcity—like limited-time offers—felt heightened arousal that fueled impulsive buying. In other words, when your sense of security feels shaky, the instinct to gather or spend can override logic.

But Why?

Financial anxiety is rarely just about the present moment. It often has emotional roots, tracing back to experiences of lack, instability, or fear that shaped our relationship with money.

Example: Studies of children who lived through the Great Depression revealed long-term financial behaviors rooted in fear and scarcity—even decades later when financial stability was achieved.

In a 2003 study titled Intergenerational Transmission of Financial Behaviors (Hill et al., Journal of Family and Economic Issues), researchers found that anxiety-based financial habits—like hoarding, avoidance, and risk aversion—can persist and be passed down generationally.

So, if you had a parent who struggled with job loss, debt, or fear-based beliefs like “money is hard to come by,” it’s likely those patterns are lingering in your subconscious—even if your logical brain says you’re fine.

Why This Hits Women Hard

For many women, the number one need isn’t wealth—it’s security, safety and stability. The knowledge that we, and those we love, will be okay.

In contrast, studies have found that men often rank respect as their primary need. This means that financial anxiety often hits women not in the wallet—but in the nervous system. So even when “everything is fine,” you may feel on edge, guilty for resting, or unable to enjoy what you’ve earned. This isn’t a mindset problem—it’s a safety signal from your nervous system.

What's

the solution? Although releasing this emotional component is key, there is a way to train your brain to mitigate the overwhelming feeling that can come with financial anxiety. Meet RAS.

The Reticular Activating System (RAS) is a network of neurons in your brainstem that filters what your brain pays attention to. It acts like a radar system: whatever you repeatedly focus on, it will prioritize.

- If you constantly scan for what could go wrong → you’ll see danger everywhere.

- If you begin to look for signs of safety → your RAS will help you spot calm, opportunity, and abundance.

This isn’t wishful thinking—it’s neuroscience. The RAS is the reason you suddenly notice blue cars everywhere after buying one.

And here’s the kicker: Whatever you repeatedly focus on, your RAS will prioritize.

If you focus on fear, lack, or insecurity, your RAS will keep finding evidence of it. But if you begin training your brain to look for safety, abundance, and support, your RAS will start to highlight those instead.

Try This: RAS Rewire Mini-Practice

Here's a 7-day practice to begin shifting your subconscious money filters:

Each morning, ask yourself:

- What is one way I’m already supported today?

- What is one sign that I have enough?

Write it down. Then say it aloud.

Over time, your RAS will start to notice more “evidence” that you are safe—even when your anxiety says otherwise.

What’s Next?

I’m building an Anxiety Release Program to help release the emotional roots of anxiety—especially where it hides under money, health, and energy. It’s not quite ready yet…

In the meantime, this type of RAS retraining is a powerful step forward.

In the next blog, we’ll explore the final piece of the anxiety puzzle: Emotional Anxiety—the invisible weight many of us carry without realizing.

Until next time, stay healthy my friends,

Lisha