Over the past couple of weeks, I have been thinking about money and human beings’ relationship with it. As I’ve continued to release survival mode and rewire my own internal system, I’ve reflected on past behavior of myself and current behavior that I see amongst my peers and the world at large. I’ve had some interesting thoughts come to me around this, and it led me to examine where the term “money is the root of all evil” truly comes from.

Most people say “money is the root of all evil,” but that is not what the verse says. In Bible, 1 Timothy 6:10 reads, “For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil.” That difference matters more than people realize.

Somewhere along the way, over the years, the core and most important part of that verse was removed. The word “love” is not a small detail. It is the entire point. When you take “the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil” and strip it down to just “money is the root of all evil,” you remove the part that actually requires self-accountability. It becomes simplified to the point where it loses meaning. Now the problem sounds external, like something that just exists outside of you, instead of something you have to examine within yourself. When you remove the word “love,” you remove responsibility. And when you remove responsibility, you stop looking at how you show up.

And this is not just something found in one place. Across different spiritual teachings, the message is the same. In Bible, you are told you cannot serve both God and money. In Buddhism, attachment is identified as the root of suffering. In Stoicism, the person who always wants more is considered poor, regardless of what they have. The wording may be different, but the truth is consistent. The issue is not the object. The issue is what you attach yourself to and what you depend on.

This verse is not saying money itself is evil. It is saying that attachment to money, dependence on it, and the way people elevate it in their lives is what creates distortion. Money is a tool. It has a place. But it was never meant to define you, drive you, or replace what actually grounds you.

I know this because I lived the opposite of what I’m saying now. From about 18 to 25, I was fully in hustle culture. Early 2010s mindset, always working, always thinking about money, always trying to do more. I watched all the content, followed all the advice, and believed that staying busy and making money was the goal. Looking back, I can see clearly that I was in survival mode.

Survival mode keeps you in a constant state of “always on.” It makes you feel like if you stop producing, something will fall apart. It makes you believe that rest is dangerous and that anything not directly tied to making money is a distraction. That mindset was everywhere at the time, and it still is. People are told not to let relationships distract them, not to slow down, not to lose focus on money. But that advice only makes sense if money is your master. If money is not your master, then your life should not revolve around protecting or chasing it at all costs.

During that time, I worked constantly. I managed stores, picked up extra hours, stayed busy, and still wasn’t stable. That’s the part people don’t talk about enough. Working more does not automatically create security. And ten years later, I can look back and honestly ask myself where most of that money even went. I was serving something that comes and goes, and it wasn’t even giving me what I thought it would.

The love of money is when money eclipses your relationship with yourself, your relationships with others, and your connection to God. It becomes what you prioritize above everything else. It becomes your source, even if you don’t realize it.

You can see this clearly in how people live. When money is a tool, it supports your life. When money becomes your master, it drives your decisions, your emotions, and your sense of self. You can have money and still be grounded, and you can have money and be completely controlled by it. The difference is internal.

One of the clearest signs that money has become your master is how it shows up in your behavior. If you cannot rest without feeling guilty, if you constantly feel like you should be doing more, if your thoughts are always centered around how to make more money, that is not discipline. That is dependency. If you believe everything will fall apart if you slow down, that is not stability. That is fear.

There is a difference between building something with intention and chasing money out of fear. When you are building with intention, there is a purpose, a timeframe, and a level of awareness. You can work hard for a season and still remain grounded. When you are chasing money out of fear, there is no end point. You are driven by anxiety, comparison, or the need to prove something. You are not working because you are aligned. You are working because you are afraid.

You also see this in how people feel. If your emotional state rises and falls based on your financial situation, that is a sign of internal instability. I have seen this firsthand. People are on a high when money comes in and completely down when it runs low. That is not peace. That is dependency. That is placing your sense of security in something external and unstable.

Another place this shows up clearly is in how everything has been turned into a way to make money. Not everything needs to be monetized. Not every hobby needs to become a side hustle. As a creative person, this is something I’ve had to protect. Creativity is supposed to be expression. It is supposed to be natural and free. When everything becomes about output and income, you lose that. You start creating for validation instead of expression. You start measuring your worth by what your creativity produces instead of what it actually is.

We have created a culture that over consumes and under creates. People are constantly taking in, comparing, and chasing, but not actually connecting, expressing, or being present. That shift is not small. It affects identity. When everything you do needs to produce something, you stop knowing who you are outside of what you can generate.

At a certain point, you have to stop and be honest with yourself. You can say money is not your master, but your behavior will tell the truth. Ask yourself a few simple questions. Why do you wake up every morning? If money was removed from the equation for a moment, what would still matter in your life? Do you feel at peace when you are not working or making money? Is your mood stable, or does it rise and fall depending on your financial situation? Who are you outside of what you earn, own, or achieve?

Breaking away from the love of money does not mean rejecting money. It means putting it back in its proper place. It means recognizing that it is a tool that supports your life, not something that defines it. It means separating your identity from what you make and learning how to be still without feeling like you are falling behind.

For me, that looks like waking up and choosing my life first. My health, my peace, and my internal state come before anything else. Work fits into my life. Money fits into my life. It does not control it. I don’t wake up thinking about money, and I don’t feel guilty when I’m not producing. That is what freedom looks like. Not having money control your mind, your time, or your sense of self.

Money is not the problem. The love of money is the problem. The moment it becomes your source, it becomes your master. And anything that replaces what is meant to ground you will always leave you unstable, no matter how much of it you have.

xo Jessica