Abundance for careworkers

1. You love to care — but you’re tired, broke, or in pain

“I care a lot, I give a lit, I am devoted to my work and my people, but I’m craving more ease, rest, and resources to actually care for myself too. I’m exhausted and burnt out.”

So many of you are naming that you believe in your care work, and it is deeply meaningful to you — but you're depleted. You want to give and be generous, but not at the expense of your body, health, or joy. There's a longing for balance: to give care and be cared for, to extend generosity and be nourished.

2. You’re taking care of a lot people while trying to heal your own money wounds, ancestral trauma, and structural barriers

“I have a lot of ancestral money trauma to heal.”

“I struggle to charge enough… my family survived on mutual aid.”

“It's almost like I don't allow myself to become wealthy because of my hidden beliefs.”

“I feel so much fear about money, even if objectively I’m safe.”

The struggle isn’t just logistical — it's deeply somatic and ancestral. Many people spoke to how capitalism, white supremacy, and class trauma shaped your relationship to money, asking:

• Can I be ethical and still earn?

• Can I be generous without being exploited?

• Can I offer accessible care without running myself dry?

There’s a clear desire for healing our nervous systems’ relationship to money, and grounding care work in something other than burnout or martyrdom.

3. You feel stuck and lonely regarding sliding scales, accessibility, which leads to dancing with burnout

“The sliding scale thing hasn’t worked well for me.”

“I give services to those who can’t afford but I run dry myself.”

“How do I offer services to communities and keep accessibility without sacrificing myself?”

So many of you are naming the dilemma of access — wanting to serve your people, especially marginalized folks, but not knowing how to make the math of sustainability work. There’s a need for:

• Funding models that don’t rely solely on undercharging yourself

• Guidance on holding pricing boundaries without guilt

• Honest conversation around who pays, why, and how without compromising your integrity or capacity

4. You’re going through grief, endings, and beginning again

“I’ve had to step back to re-root in what truly sustains me—my health, my security, and a deeper sense of enough.”

Several of you are in threshold moments — closing chapters, leaving long-term jobs or spaces, entering your 50s, coming out of burnout. You're asking: What next? How can I start again with more alignment, more abundance, less suffering?

There’s a hunger to repattern, to create something new, without reproducing the harm you’ve lived through or seen.

5. You want to decolonize our relationship to marketing, business, and visibility

“I’m navigating how to share my work, build aligned collaborations, and tend to money with more clarity and care—even when it feels overwhelming.”

Marketing feels exploitative for some of you — and you're craving new ways to share your work that feel relational, honest, embodied. You want to be seen, to be booked, to be resourced — without abandoning your ethics, values, or joy.

6. You yearn for abundance as collective practice

“I want to learn how to grow a values-aligned practice that sustains me financially, creatively, and ethically.”

You're seeking models of abundance that are politically aligned, emotionally honest, and structurally possible — not based on individual hustle but collective nourishment.