April 15, 2026

Follow the Money

It’s April 15, which means I’ve just filed (for an extension on) my US taxes.

My original idea for this newsletter was simple: what we spend money on shows us what we value. And maybe your inflows and outflows are top of mind after labouring through your bank statements so why not learn something about yourself along the way?

Someone shared a framework with me a few months ago: if you look at how we tend to spend, most people allocate the most to things, then experiences, and the least to connection. And the idea is that it should be inverted. Because what brings the most long-term fulfilment is connection, then experiences, and least of all things.

I liked the idea. It’s clean, visual, easy to agree with… and easy to turn into a graphic.

But the more interesting part isn’t whether it’s right.

It’s the questions underneath it.

Two levels

Level 1: If you look at what you spend money on, what does it say about you?

Level 2: Does that actually align with what you tell yourself you value?

Money is supposed to flow toward what is valuable.

But does it?

I once read about an activity where kids are each given a random object and told to end up with something more valuable.

A bouncy ball gets traded for a pen top, not because it’s more valuable on its own, but because it’s useful for the next trade — with the kid who has the bottom — to eventually get the hair clip they actually want.

The trades don’t happen based on any “fair market value,” but on what each item is worth to the next person. The artist wants the pen. The future hair stylist wants the barrette.

Nothing has a fixed worth. That’s not the point.

The point is that value is contextual. You give something that matters less to you to get something that matters more — sometimes directly, sometimes through a few steps.

“Worth it”

Because we can rationalize almost any purchase. The 8 EUR croissant. The 128 CHF train ticket. The $90 haircut.

For things, we calculate: how long it lasts, how often we use it, whether we could get a cheaper version, make it ourselves, or go without.

For experiences and connection, it’s a different and slightly harder equation: what we got out of it, how it felt, how we grew, what we learned, whether it was “worth it.”

And always, in the background, the quiet comparison: what else could I have done with that?

At some point, it stops being about money.

It becomes about what wins. Because there is always a competition for resources.

The hierarchy

And this is where it gets more interesting.

We have so many shared values: Dignity. Justice. Connection. Love. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes. I value those things too!”

But there are countless values we could name and agree to honour as well: courage, play, freedom, trust, creativity, adventure, independence, gratitude.

The difference isn’t what we value. It’s how we rank them.

Because life constantly puts us in situations where we have to choose - often between two imperfect things.

The trump card

I see this most clearly in parenting, where the goal is clear but the path is not.

→ Goal: Teach them to not be scared of the dark and sleep on their own.

→ Path: Let them struggle? Step in to reassure them? How often? For how long?

When the answer isn’t obvious, how do you decide?

I found it helpful to choose a guiding light. To complete this sentence:

“I want my children to ____.”

And the hard part is that you only get one answer.

One value at the top of your parenting value pyramid. One word that will trump.

If I had to choose one value to transmit, it would be independence.
I want my children not to need me. To rely on themselves. To feel capable, or at least resourceful, when something is hard.

→ My kids slept with plastic swords, magic wands and superhero costumes.

Someone close to me described it differently. For them, it was about making sure their children always know they’re there. That they can count on them. That they are not alone.

→ Their kids call them in the middle of the night.

Different hierarchy, different decisions.

We don’t disagree on values. We disagree on which one comes first.

(I wrote more about this as well as working through different values from our families or origin and shared a worksheet, here.)

A useful filter

Brené Brown talks about narrowing your values down to one or two that actually guide your decisions.

Because when everything matters, nothing really does.

I think of this as a filter, a way to decide when things compete.

When you have to pick, which value wins?

And that answer changes depending on the context: parenting, work, relationships. It certainly evolves over time.

But even just asking the question in that tough decision moment — which value am I trying to honor here? — can make a decision feel clearer. More grounded. More aligned.

Where it gets harder

But this is exactly where things start to get more complicated.

Because not all differences are the same.

Some are easy. If you spend money on shoes and I prefer to spend mine on fancy coffee, that’s just preference. No tension there.

Others are clear boundaries. I’m not going to build a close relationship with someone who is dishonest, harmful, or fundamentally disrespectful. That’s not a difference in value hierarchies. That’s a line.

But there’s a middle category that’s much harder to navigate.

Where we share the same values — but not in the same order.

Independence vs security.
Ambition vs presence.
Truth vs loyalty.

This is where most tension actually lives.

Not because we don’t agree. But because we choose differently.

And those choices don’t just shape outcomes.

They signal who we are — and who we are not.

To ourselves. And to others.

And when what wins for you is different from what wins for someone else, it doesn’t just create different outcomes.

It can change how you see each other.

But that’s a conversation for next time.

Until then,

Erica

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