My financial story didn't begin with a budget.

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It began with survival.

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I was four years old when I first became aware of money. Not because someone taught me how to save, invest, or build wealth, but because I witnessed firsthand what it meant to live without it.

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As a first generation American born to Jamaican parents from Kingston, I grew up in an environment where every dollar mattered. Violence, addiction, instability, and uncertainty were woven into the fabric of everyday life. By six years old, my mother was raising us alone, and my father's new address was a jail cell.

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I still remember my grandmother's heartbreaking words:

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"If only he didn't go to jail."

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The plan had been simple. Make enough money to buy the house with the white picket fence. Live the American Dream that so many immigrants sacrifice everything to achieve.

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Instead, our family was left picking up the pieces.

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Money conversations in my household were never about investing, credit scores, retirement accounts, or wealth building. They were about survival. About keeping food on the table. About finding a way to make rent. About making it through another week.

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And when survival is all you know, it becomes the lens through which you view the world.

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What I didn't realize at the time was that although I would eventually leave that environment, the scarcity mindset would come with me.

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As an adult, I looked successful on the outside, but behind closed doors, I was struggling. I lived paycheck to paycheck. I rented rooms. I slept in my car. I stayed in motels when I couldn't find stable housing.

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By twenty-six, I had received multiple eviction notices.

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Then came the moment that changed everything.

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I went to the dentist for a routine cleaning and learned I couldn't afford it. I had no dental insurance and no money to pay for basic care.

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Not long after, I found myself sitting alone in my car, holding another eviction notice.

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I cried.

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Not because of the letter itself.

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But because I was exhausted.

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Exhausted from repeating the same cycle.

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Exhausted from feeling like no matter how hard I worked, I could never get ahead.

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Exhausted from wondering if this was all life would ever be.

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As I stared at those words printed across the page, "30 Day Notice to Vacate," I made a promise to myself:

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No one will ever have the power to put me out of their home again.

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That night, I pulled out my phone and searched one simple phrase:

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"Best financial education books."

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The next morning, I went to the library and checked out every book I could find.

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That summer became my turning point.

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