How to Know if You Are Under Earning: Part 6
Every instance of underearning has the same underlying cause. It’s a beast that’s running amok through your life and family. Listen to this episode to find out how to identify the beast. How to drive a stake through its heart. And how to bury it in the ground forever. Your whole family will benefit.
WHAT YOU’LL LEARN FROM THIS EPISODE:
- How to identify the beast that causes underearning
- Why underearning passes from generation to generation
- How you can stop it in its tracks.
LISTEN TO THE FULL EPISODE:
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Welcome to episode 21 of How to Make More Money, a podcast that helps you get seriously good at the game of making serious money. I’m your host Kelly Hollingsworth. I’m thrilled you’re here because today we’re wrapping up our series on how to know if you’re under-earning. If you were with us last time, you know that I ended by inviting you to come to this episode so we could bury under-earning forever. And today, we’re going to do exactly that. How are we going to do this? We’re going to find the beating heart of this problem that’s causing you to make less than market rates and then we’re going to drive a stake through it. To identify the heart of this beast that’s causing you to under-earn, we have to know what the beast looks like, and it’s not easy to identify.
So today we’re going to do three things. We’re going to give the beast a name, and we’re going to talk about how to recognize it when it’s right in front of you, and then we’re going to talk about how to drive a stake right through its heart. But first, let’s talk about why this is important. It’s important because when you have this beast running amok through your life, it wreaks havoc and it causes suffering.
I’ll never forget the first time I saw the beast in my own family. I was in kindergarten. It was one of the worst winters on record. The snow outside our front door was six feet high. School had been closed for weeks. Bread trucks were coming around to the neighborhoods because the housewives couldn’t make it to the store. (Yes, this was the ’70s, there were still housewives back then. My mother was one of them.)
And when the roads became passable, we got into the car one afternoon to go somewhere “fancy,” probably a school play. I was in kindergarten and I was wearing a red suede coat with a white fur collar. We weren’t in Idaho at the time. For some reason, Boise Cascade wanted my dad to go work in St. Louis for six months or a year. So we were living in St. Louis, Missouri in a rental house. And we got in the car to go somewhere, and I was wearing this frivolous, overly fancy coat for a five-year-old that my dad bought for me against my mother’s wishes. She thought it was way too expensive. And I can still remember them arguing about it in the department store. My dad won, as he always did where money was concerned because he “made the money.”
And so, both he and my mother thought that made him the boss. So when we were getting in the car for this afternoon outing, there I was, wearing this ridiculously expensive coat for a five-year-old. And that’s when I realized that my mother didn’t have a coat. She was shivering in her dress with nothing on over it, because she didn’t have a nice enough coat to wear to wherever it was that we were going. I remember thinking, this isn’t right.
I felt enormous concern that my mother was suffering. So I sat on her lap in the front seat, this was before car seats and seat belts, obviously. And I spread my own coat across both of us. This, my friends, is evidence of the beast. When you see one person in the family who’s secondary, and everyone else who is primary, you know the beast is there.
That’s the sign, and the beast has a name. It’s called inequality. And you’ve got to get it out of your household because it doesn’t just stop with you, it spreads across generations. When the culture of a household is to sanction inequality, it’s folly to think that this cancer won’t spread.
I remember once when I was about nine years old, we were living in North Idaho then, in a house with a freeway running through the backyard because by this time, my dad had lost our fancy house on a craps table in Las Vegas. One morning, I was cleaning the kitchen, an ongoing obsession of mine because cleanliness was the one thing in our chaotic household that I could control. Why was there chaos? Because as I mentioned earlier, my dad made the money.
Both he and my mother believed this meant he was the one who controlled who spent the money and how it was spent. Mostly he spent it in casinos and bars. Mostly he spent it on women who were not my mother. So there was never enough for our family. My mother scrimped and saved and did without, because his wallet leaked money all over town.
With this as the backdrop of our family life, picture us in the kitchen, me and my dad. He was sitting by the phone, smoking and drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. I was scouring the countertops and I felt him watching me. I looked up and he said to me, “You’re going to be a great little homemaker someday.” He was beaming with pride. It wasn’t an unfriendly moment. He was speaking in kind tones and admiring me and the work I was doing. I felt all of that, but I felt something else, too.
I felt a thread of subservience suggested in his comments. It felt wrong. It felt improper. And in an instant, the life he envisioned for me, a life of no control and second–best in my own home, flashed before my eyes. Amidst his pride and his kind words, he was suggesting for me to live my mother’s life. He was suggesting for me not to have a decent coat and to stand shivering in the cold while my five-year-old daughter had a red suede coat with a white fur collar.
At that point, I felt conflicted. I felt two things. One was a glimmer of revulsion that I can still feel when I think about this moment today. I felt a little bit sick, not in my stomach but in my heart. It was this sinking feeling that I felt in the center of my chest. It’s the sinking feeling that comes from knowing someone else thinks they’re better than you. That you’re unequal and they’re going to use that to try to take something from you. That’s how that part of it felt. And this other part of it felt admired and loved for giving it up.
And when I felt that way, I did two things. One of the things I did was smile at my dad, and we had this moment of love and connection between us. That’s what I was doing on the surface, and that was genuine. But the other thing I did was also genuine and it was internal. I thought to myself, Fat Chance, Mister. I decided, what you’re proposing is not going to happen to me. That decision, even though it was born of conflict, was the seed of my first business. I didn’t stop cleaning, I loved it then, and I still do. But I decided that I wasn’t using my cleaning talents for free. I was going to make money with them.
This is how my first business was born. By the time I was 13, I wasn’t cleaning for free. I had taken my cleaning abilities and turned them into a business. It looked like I had escaped the beast, but I hadn’t. I was conflicted and I took that conflict into my adult life with me.
So fast forward, about 10 years. By then my parents were divorced. On the surface, everything was going pretty well. Between high school graduation and age 19, I had worked my way through to getting an associate’s degree from community college. At that point, it was time to go to a university, but there was no university in our town. And I was dating a musician at the time who wanted to stop playing music on the road and go back to school, so we decided that we’d get married. He was a Montana resident and if we were married, I’d get in-state tuition.
So after the wedding, we were going to go to school in Montana and both get our degrees. My mother was terrified for me. She told me, “Now you won’t go to school, you won’t have a career, you won’t make money.” And I was like, “What? That’s ridiculous. I’m going to be an equal in this marriage. It’s not even a question.”
But then we got married, and what happened? Less than 20 hours after our very inexpensive wedding in a North Idaho wedding chapel called The Hitching Post, the same place where my mother had married my father on her lunch hour… Less than 20 hours after that, I realized that I had indeed stepped into my mother’s life. I was a second–class citizen in my marriage, just as my mother had been in hers.
Before I got married, I had negotiated my own equality line by line. I laid out the terms of our marriage. I insisted we were going to split everything right down the middle. Housework, bills, vacations, even dinners out. He would do the dishes one time, I would do the dishes the next time. He would pay the rent one month, I would pay it next month. On our anniversary, we would split the check. That was the deal and this was the way I intended to make sure I was treated as an equal, always.
How did that go? Not well. A day after our wedding, not even 24 hours after our wedding, all of my negotiations crumbled before my very eyes. He didn’t do any of the things that I had put into our agreement. He didn’t do dishes. He didn’t clean. He didn’t pay half the bills. One month he bought a mountain bike and couldn’t cover his half of the rent. I paid it. He decided to go to Mexico for a semester to learn Spanish, and while he was gone, I covered the rent, went to school full-time, studied for the CPA exam while also working his job and mine so he would have a job when he returned.
I remember one time after he returned, we were at a store on our anniversary. I was admiring an outfit. He had just returned from his months-long Mexico trip and he looked at me looking at the outfit and said something to the effect of, “Why are you looking at that? We can’t afford that.” After we had just cash flowed him studying out of the country for months, we couldn’t afford a single outfit for me. I flashed back, when this was happening, I flashed back to that day in the department store when my dad bought me a coat and my mother had no coat, and I realized that as much as I had tried to avoid it, I had become my mother and I was living her life.
And with that realization, I went out to dinner for anniversary with my husband. And at that point, I was so upset I couldn’t speak. When we were driving home after dinner, all I could think about in the car was this incident when I was growing up that I had largely forgotten. All I could think about was this time when my dad was still at home. My mom wanted to go to college. The whole time she was married to my dad, she wanted to study and get a degree. But the education of someone else was always the priority. At first, when my mom wanted to go to college, she couldn’t because the priority was my older sister. She was in grade school, and my dad was promising her that she could go to medical school, and using that as the reason my mom couldn’t study. In theory, we couldn’t afford for my mom to go to school because my sister would eventually need the money.
But then what happened? Then my cousin, my dad’s nephew whom we barely knew, showed up on our doorstep and needed a place to live. And what did my dad do? The fiction of my sister’s medical school disappeared. It had never been funded anyway. And my dad took whatever money he had out of our general checking account, and he bought my cousin, this kid any of us barely knew, a Celica. And paid his college tuition. After years of saying no to my mom, my dad said yes to someone else who wasn’t even in our immediate household. My parents had words about this, as I’m sure you can imagine, and my dad told my mom that he wanted to help my cousin because he “wanted to make something of the Hollingsworth name.” As if my mother didn’t carry that name, which she did. And then what happened? My cousin, my dad’s nephew who was going to make something of the Hollingsworth name, promptly flunked out of school.
So I’m thinking about this in the car on the way home from that failed anniversary dinner with my then–husband, and I shook my head because I was just struck with this idea that I had replicated my mother’s life. I was going to school, so it was a little bit different in that respect. I was going to school just like my husband was, but the conditions were hardly equal. When my husband wanted to study Spanish in Mexico, there was no question that we were going to make it easy on him. No work. Nothing to do but enjoy Oaxaca and revel in the experience of his education. While I was back at home attending classes, studying for the CPA exam and working his job and mine.
It was ridiculous. And after thinking about that, I got out of the car and I could barely stand the sight of my own husband. It was to the point that I didn’t even care to fight anymore. Before that, we would yell at each other. But after that, my disdain was so thick you could practically see it hanging in the air. Our home was intolerable.
So we went to counseling at the student health center at our university. In our first session, we were talking specifically about housework. I explained to the counselor that he was supposed to do half the housework. I was going to school full-time. I worked more than full-time. I made more money, I made better grades. I was getting, in my mind, what was a more difficult and valuable degree. I had this laundry list of everything I was doing right and everything he was doing wrong. And I told the counselor everything on both lists, all the things I was doing right, and everything he was doing wrong. And then I asked her, “Couldn’t he just do half the housework as we agreed? Couldn’t he just do that much?”
The counselor turned to my husband and asked him, “What are your thoughts about this?” And he explained to her that he was the youngest in his family, the only son, and that his mom and his older sisters had always done the housework. The counselor was nodding her head sympathetically. And when he was finished speaking, she turned to me and said, “Kelly, you’re just going to have to realize that he’s not accustomed to doing housework. You’re just going to have to be more patient and understanding.” She tilted her head to the side, and raised her eyebrows, and smirked at me like, “Suck it up buttercup. You married into this. Now it’s yours, because there’s no changing it.”
For a split second, I had that sick feeling again. The same as I had with my dad in the kitchen a decade prior. She was grooming me to not get what I wanted. She was grooming me to be a second–class citizen in my own life. I didn’t know that word then, but I could feel that she was doing something wrong.
But this time I didn’t smile back. This time I was having none of it. Something in my brain snapped and I remember thinking that time-honored thought that always gets me out of bad situations and into good situations. I remember thinking, this is not who I am. If she thinks he is more important than me, she is wrong.
This thought propelled me to my feet. I looked at the counselor and my then–husband, and I spoke in a deadly calm voice. The counselor had just told me I was going to have to realize that he wasn’t accustomed to doing housework because he never had to do any. I was going to have to be his housekeeper because he’d been spoiled all his life? To this, I looked at the counselor and said, “No. If he’s never had to do any housework, what you’re both going to have to realize is that he owes the world some housework.”
With that, I walked out of the room. I felt the weight of a thousand loads of dirty laundry lift off of my shoulders. I didn’t look back and I didn’t care what either of them thought. I knew in my mind what was right, and what was wrong. I knew who I was going to be, and who I wasn’t going to be. I knew he wasn’t better than me, with a level of conviction I had never experienced before. And that was the precise moment that everything changed. We didn’t get divorced then, but I left my crappy marriage in that moment. I walked out of a crappy marriage when I left that counselor’s office, and I was never going back.
And guess what? They could both tell my level of conviction was so high about who I was and how things were going to go from then on, that the negotiations were over. The fighting was over. They were sitting there with their mouths open because I had just dropped a truth bomb and it had exploded all over them. And after that, the world changed. There was no going back for any of us.
And then what happened? My crappy marriage transformed. The man I couldn’t stand the sight of followed me out of there and we walked across campus together. He said, “I get it. I finally get it.” And from that moment, we were friends. And we had an equal division of labor in our marriage.
Why did this happen? I could not have articulated this at the time, but this was my first notable experience in high profit thinking. I finally realized in my head, with every fiber of my being, my own equality as a human being. From that emotional place, I finally spoke with conviction. When I did, my message became compelling. There was a truth in what I was saying that no one could ignore. And when that happened, everyone listened. And then our lives changed.
For the first time in our marriage, we had a meeting of the minds. I believed I was equal. I said I was equal. And when I did it with the strength of my conviction, he had no choice but to believe it too. When you are surrounded by a profound truth, there’s simply nothing else you can see.
And then what happened? One, there was finally peace in our relationship. We stopped fighting and we became friends. The second thing is that we had energy. Hating the other people in your household is draining, and we didn’t hate each other anymore, so we felt better. We could focus on other things.
And then we started having fun. We graduated. Packed up a U-Haul. We moved to Chicago. He went to grad school and got an MBA and became an investment banker. I went to law school for a few years, parlayed that into my first hedge fund job and became a budding young hedge fund executive.
We divorced years later, for reasons we can discuss in another episode. But for now, as I’m telling you this story, I’d like to share that this is perhaps the most pivotal moment in my life. Why? Because this is the first time I saw how a shift in my mind created a shift in my message that changed someone else’s mind. This is where I learned that high profit thinking leads to a high profit home and leads to a high profit life. Once I had this experience, I began seeing how we can turn things around simply through the power of our own minds, and how that power carries our conviction across in our messages to others.
This is what we need to combat and conquer the grooming to under-earn that shows up in so many of our lives. Even when we think it isn’t there, this grooming is working in our lives in an insidious, subtle, but very powerfully damaging way.
We’re seeing this across the globe right now. NPR recently reported that the pandemic is taking a devastating toll on women, and revealing systemic inequalities in who does the cooking, cleaning, and other household chores. And also, because children are “falling behind,” women are dropping out of the workforce at an “eye-popping rate” to deal with that.
What can be done about this? According to the NPR article, nothing. The article quoted a labor economist who was discussing the issue. Here’s the quote. She said, “The problem is that right now a lot of women don’t have any choices. They can’t send their kids to school. Someone has to supervise the learning. Someone has to deal with the cooking. Someone has to deal with the cleaning and it’s falling on them. And so they can’t make choices that they want to make because they’re being restricted in all these ways.”
In this characterization of the problem, the solution is revealed. Consider, for example, when she says, “Someone has to supervise the learning.” All I can think about this is, really? This is one of the lowest profit sentences ever uttered.
Imagine you’re the CEO of a business, there’s an intern who’s supposed to get some training at a workshop or a seminar you purchased, and suddenly the workshop or the seminar is temporarily canceled. In that situation, what would you do? What would anyone do? For one second, would it seem like it was a good idea to stop everything, shut the business down, and step in so you can “supervise the learning?” No, it’s not even a question. No reasonable person would even consider it. The CEO of any business would think, well, whatever that interim was going to learn this week, they’re not going to learn. They can learn something else. And eventually, when the seminar is back up and running, they’ll learn whatever it was that they were going to learn there at that time.
In a high profit business, this is how things would go. No one would ever take the high earner out of a high profit role, and put them in the role of “learning supervisor” to an unpaid intern.
But what’s happening in our households? Exactly the opposite. A subset of high earning humans, who want to become even higher earning humans, have become the angry, frustrated employees of the unpaid interns. When you could be making bank and the interns in your home, aka, the children could be making … oh, I don’t know, breakfast. What’s happening instead? You’re making breakfast and they’re making you batty.
This is not the way you run a high profit business. And it’s not the way you run a high profit household. So the question is, how did we get into this mess? It feels like the pandemic is an unusual circumstance, but this problem is not new.
Recently, I was talking to a client who told me that when it came time to start her business pre-pandemic, that she initially tried to cobble together the training she needed through inexpensive books and a $300 a month membership to some online subscription thing, and resources to get it done for her on a shoestring.
But at the same time, she had absolutely no issues about paying tuition and all other living expenses for her college-age children. Just as in my low profit household, where my husband got to spend a luxurious semester in Mexico, and I was slogging away at my education in far less favorable circumstances, she had the same thing going on in hers. Her children’s future earnings were more important than her present earnings.
What was happening in her home was the same thing that was happening in my home when I was a married woman, and it was the same thing that was happening in my childhood home back in the ’80s when my not–so–bright cousin got the college resources in our household to flunk out of college. And my mom had to deliver newspapers at 3:00 AM every morning to put herself through college and graduate with highest honors while raising three kids on her own.
If you find yourself thinking that there are other people in your household who “come first,” you are living in a low–profit home. This isn’t helping you obviously, but guess what? It isn’t helping the other members of your household, either. And here’s why: The idea that there is a hierarchy of humans, where some are primary and some are secondary, inevitably leads to the people you care about the most wondering where they fall into the hierarchy. When a grooming invitation is presented for them to decide they fall into the subservient level of the hierarchy, there’s a danger that they could accept it.
Do you want to risk the people you love deciding that they’re second tier? If you present a life to them in which some humans are second, that’s the danger you’re facing. When my mom was terrified that I was going to be second tier in my own home, her fears weren’t unfounded. She knew that I’d seen that in my own home growing up. She knew I was in danger of living the same life, and that’s why she was afraid, and that’s exactly what happened in the early years of my first marriage. No one is served by the idea of a hierarchy of humans. So here’s the million–dollar question. When reasonable people are doing unreasonable things that don’t serve them and don’t serve anyone they care about, why does this happen?
It happens because they’ve been groomed not to see any other choice. When you’ve been groomed in this manner, you think you must choose between your own livelihood, your own autonomy, your own equality, and your kids’ wellbeing. And when you think that’s your choice, you are going to choose your kids all day long. And that’s what’s happening. The pandemic isn’t the problem. It’s just revealing a problem that’s been lurking in our households for a very long time.
So what’s the solution? How do we find our way out of this? The solution, as always, is skill. When you have a problem that you’re struggling to solve, and that you desperately want to solve, and it isn’t getting done, acquiring skill is always the answer. So what’s the skill you need here? You need the skill of creating a high profit home.
Creating a high profit home in our family was an unintentional effort that took place over the course of decades. It started with my mom. My mother was groomed to under-earn in a manner that I think most of us can’t possibly imagine. My grandmother got pregnant at age 12. After my mother was born, they lived in a chicken coop on someone’s property that had been built out for them or modified in some way for them to sleep in it. Eventually, as I’m sure you can imagine, the state took my mother away, and she was raised in a series of foster homes.
In those homes, she reported mostly dismal circumstances. I’m sure that’s not surprising. But in one of them, she learned some things about doing things differently. For example, she learned that she could ask for any meal she wanted. She brought this to our family. Then as a young mother, she learned a few more things that she contributed to our family.
These little glimmers of difference between her childhood and my childhood didn’t change everything, but it was a start. A little bit of difference between her upbringing and the way she was raising me allowed me to grab onto a thin edge of doing things differently. Change was starting to happen. When my dad was grooming me for a life of subservient second best, it didn’t fully penetrate. I still went on to have some struggles, but then I, through my own life experiences, learned more about creating my own high profit household and my own high profit life. Eventually, I learned enough that I was able to become one of the few female hedge fund managers in the world. I stopped taking a back seat in my mind, in my life. And then, in an industry populated with men, I was able to dominate. I was the alpha in any room, no matter who else was in it.
I still remember being on a conference call. I was the only woman on the call and there were eight or 10 men on the call. There were lawyers, there were hedge fund managers, all these high powered dudes. And when we got off the call, one of them called me back and said, “I have never seen anything like that. You held the room and you were the only woman in it.”
How does this happen? My mom was raised in a chicken coop and a succession of foster homes, one of which gave her a sandwich to go eat in the barn by herself. She wasn’t even allowed to eat with the family. She ate sandwiches by herself in the barn. And yet, what she learned in that one house that had some high profit stuff going on in it made a shift in our family. In our family, everyone in the house had anything they wanted to eat. If I wanted pancakes and my sister wanted waffles and my other sister wanted French toast, that’s what we had for breakfast. When my sisters and I became successful at the things we were wanting to do in life, my mom would say, “I don’t know where you girls got the idea that you could do whatever you wanted.”
She was glad we had this idea, but she didn’t know exactly where this idea had come from. And I told her, “It started with breakfast.” When we got the breakfast that we wanted, she was showing us that we could have the life we wanted. But here, we weren’t getting the breakfast we wanted in the way that parents might picture it these days. My mom wasn’t slaving over the stove making three different breakfasts for three very spoiled little girls. She taught us how to do things for ourselves. Her job in her mind was never doing for us. Her job in her mind was to make sure that we could do it for ourselves. That’s one of the hallmarks of a high profit home. No one is the slave to anyone else. Everyone is capable. And when everyone is capable, everyone is positioned to become a high earner.
Was my mom equal in our family? In all areas of our family life? Absolutely not. It was a mixed bag. And mostly, it was mixed against her. But in the areas where she considered herself the CEO and us the interns, we had a high profit home. We learned basic skills that she had already acquired and that she taught to us. She was not there to perform basic skills for us in perpetuity, and that carried forward for us all in unimaginable, magical ways. It changed the trajectory of our family.
When I was in my 30s, my mom was breaking up with a man she’d been living with for many years. He had money, and when they were dating, eventually he asked her to quit her job so that they could travel and enjoy life. This didn’t happen, they didn’t really travel and they didn’t really enjoy life. But before she quit her job, she negotiated a settlement with him. If they ever broke up, he would pay her $100,000. So what happened? She worked for his business during the time that they were together, putting all her paycheck money into a joint checking account with his money. And when they broke up, she told me, “Oh, well, if he wants to have the money, he’ll pay it to me.” I was saying, “Mom, are you going to get that $100,000? Are you going to get the money from working all these years?” And she said, “If he wants me to have it, he’ll pay it to me. If he doesn’t want me to have it, that’s fine.” And at that point I said, “What? Over my dead body is this continuing to happen.”
So I got in the car and I drove my mom to their bank where their joint checking account was. She withdrew her money, the sum total of all the paychecks she’d received from doing his books over the years and she withdrew the $100,000 that he had promised to her if they ever broke up. And we took the money to another unrelated bank and deposited it so the bank where she’d withdrawn the money couldn’t clot back. She didn’t want to go to the bank and withdraw the money, but I told her, “Listen, this is your life we’re talking about. That money is the difference between a paid for house for the rest of your life and you working as a greeter at Walmart when you’re 90 so you can pay rent on an apartment where the rent goes up every single month. So stop talking, get in the car, we are doing this. We’re done messing around with the idea that other people are more important than you.”
And she was afraid and reluctant, but we got the money. When we left the second bank where we made the deposit, we got in the car and we could both feel a profound shift in the world. The lingering effects of that shift remain in our lives today. She is still living in that paid for house that she bought with that money. What we learned about creating a high profit home over the course of her life and mine actually created a paid for home that she lives in to this day. What I’d like you to glean from this story and from the series of episodes on under-earning is that all under-earning problems, every single problem you have ever had and ever will have is born in a single place, your own view of your own inequality. Where does this view come from? You weren’t born thinking you’re less than someone else. You are groomed to believe it.
We can and we will, in upcoming episodes of this podcast, talk about mindset and messaging and concrete business skills you need to accomplish anything you want in your business. But at the core of acquiring these skills is an idea that you’re done with the part of your life where you’re a secondary human being to those who are primary. If you don’t have this skill of thinking of yourself as an equal, and creating a high profit home in which you’re treated as an equal, in which every person in the household is of equal value, and the earnings life of every person in the household is of equal importance, all the business skill in the world is not going to help you because you’re not going to use it. You’re going to feel drained. You’re going to feel conflicted. You’re going to feel fear that you’re harming people you care about by pursuing what you want.
Women are groomed to have this fear and lately men are too. It is a disaster. And we remain in the muck of it because of the myth that you making money is going to harm your children. Who wants to harm their children? No one. You’ll choose your kids’ welfare over making money for yourself every single time. There’s also the matter of our spouses and partners, the way we’re interacting with them is our profit. We have to fix that too.
So what we need to do is cure the conflicts at home so everyone can feel better and make more money. And to do this, you need the skill of creating a high profit home. When you live in a high profit home, your kids are better off because of what you’re doing. And you’re making money because of what you’re doing, Your relationship with your partner is more harmonious because of what you’re doing.
In a high profit home, the moneymaking makes things better, not worse. You’re not trading quality of life in pursuit of the almighty buck. You’re creating quality of life for yourself and everyone in your home by creating equality among the human beings at your home. And this is the foundation of getting better at the game of making money. Everyone has a better future in front of them when they live in a high profit home, and the present feels better too. Everyone feels friendly. No one is fighting. And no one feels frustrated. If this sounds like an amazing place to live and it is, I’d like to invite you into learning how to create a high profit home for yourself. If you are concerned about the earnings potential of you or anyone else in your household during the pandemic or at any other point in your future, dropping out of commerce isn’t the answer. Creating a high profit home is the answer.
So what should you do now? I’m accepting applications for women and all other adult humans who want to work with me to learn the skill of creating a high profit home. To apply, all you have to do is email me, Kelly@kellyhollingsworth.com. That’s Kelly with a Y @kellyhollingsworth.com. I can’t wait to connect with you, and thank you so much for being here today.