“You Are So Poor That All You Have Is Money”: Why Sleep, Peace, and Freedom Matter More Than Success

I read a line last week that stayed with me:

“You are so poor that all you have is money.”

At first, I laughed. Then I winced. Then I felt the weight of it—a quiet, uncomfortable truth that echoes in so many lives I see every day.

Because it’s not about money at all. It’s about the part of us that can feel empty, no matter how full our calendars, our bank accounts, or our social standing might be.

I work with teachers, therapists, business owners, and parents—people who are successful, responsible, and deeply connected to their families and communities. On the outside, they appear to have it all. Stability, recognition, influence, and love surround them. They are respected, reliable, and capable.

Yet there is often a hidden struggle, a quiet weight they carry. Many are holding on to things they don’t fully understand: disappointment, regret, old shame, unresolved past experiences, or unmet expectations. These are the pieces of life that aren’t easily fixed by success or good intentions. And sometimes, they are unconscious—so deeply buried that the person doesn’t even know they’re holding on.

Take Baila, for instance, a nutrition coach who had been wrestling with severe insomnia for months. On the surface, she was thriving—clients loved her, she was building a successful practice, and she seemed in control. But beneath it, a painful experience at the start of her career had left an unprocessed wound. For years, she carried shame and self-doubt about a moment she had pretended didn’t affect her. Through coaching, she finally uncovered it, named it, and allowed herself to release it. Only then did sleep become possible again.

Or Malka, a mother in Israel, who hadn’t slept properly in years. She would tell everyone, “I love and accept my children as they are.” But deep down, she felt disappointed in some of her children and ashamed of even admitting it. The truth was hidden, locked away by her own expectations of perfection. Through coaching, she faced her feelings honestly, forgave herself for being human, and began to let go of the shame that had been stealing her rest for years.

These stories illustrate a crucial truth: the pill bottle is rarely the problem itself. It’s a cover. A way to survive while the mind and body are carrying unprocessed pain.

The first step toward freedom isn’t taking away the pill. It’s uncovering what’s being held underneath.

This is where coaching transforms lives. I always tell my clients: The way you come in is not the way you will leave.

It’s not about being “fixed.” It’s about clarity, peace, and acceptance. It’s about finally seeing what’s been hidden and realizing that you can let it go without losing yourself—or your life.

In coaching, we explore gently, asking questions that invite reflection: What are you really holding onto? What part of yourself are you denying? What have you been carrying that isn’t yours to bear? Sometimes it’s an event from years ago. Sometimes it’s a feeling you’ve told yourself is “wrong” to have. Sometimes it’s disappointment in someone else—or in yourself—that has stayed locked inside.

As clients face these truths, something remarkable begins to happen. The pill bottle becomes irrelevant. They don’t need it to sleep or to cope because the tension it masked has been acknowledged, processed, and released. The change is both subtle and profound: a lighter step in the morning, a sigh of relief at the end of the day, a sense of peace that isn’t just the absence of pain, but the presence of clarity.

The transformations are powerful to witness. I see Baila’s shoulders finally relax, years of tension melting away, her mind no longer replaying the old failure. I see Malka’s face soften, a mix of relief and quiet pride, as she accepts herself fully for the first time in years. These moments are visceral, emotional, and life-changing. They are proof that freedom isn’t something you buy—it’s something you reclaim.

And then comes the moment when the quote lands differently:

“You are so poor that all you have is money.”

Because the truth is that real richness isn’t measured by what we have outside—it’s measured by what we reclaim inside. By the peace, acceptance, and freedom that we find when we finally face what we’ve been carrying.

Clients often tell me, after weeks of work, “I’m rich. I have my life back.” And it’s not hyperbole. This richness is more profound than any outward success or recognition. It’s the ability to rest, to let go, to feel present and whole. It’s the wealth of self-ownership and freedom from the emotional baggage that has held them back.

If you find yourself wondering what you might be holding onto—disappointment, shame, regret, or pain—know that it doesn’t have to control you. Clarity and peace are possible. Acceptance and release are possible. And the first step is simply noticing what you’ve been carrying.

If you’re ready to uncover what’s truly keeping you from rest and reclaim your inner freedom, I invite you to a 30-minute session with me. No judgment. No quick fixes. Just clarity, understanding, and the first step toward living fully, peacefully, and awake.

Book a session here.

And if you want to explore this journey further, check out my previous blog: Rock Bottom Always Has a Trap Door.

Remember: the way you come in is not the way you will leave. Peace, acceptance, and true rest are possible. When you reclaim that, you finally realize—you’re not poor at all.

You’re rich.