Saturday brunch. A friend waved the server over and said, “Let’s just split it.”

I’d ordered oatmeal and tea.

Everyone else went for mimosas and steak.

I smiled, nodded, and paid my “share.”

Then I went home and felt the tightness I used to ignore—shame, mixed with the fear of looking cheap.

Money embarrassment hides in small sentences.

Most of us learned to keep appearances tidy, even when our bank balance isn’t.

If you’ve caught yourself using certain phrases to dodge the truth, you’re not alone.

This piece is a gentle x-ray for those moments—eight subtle lines that signal discomfort about money, and how to replace them with clarity, boundaries, and self-respect.

By the end, you’ll have language you can use in real life.

Simple, direct, and kind. Because financial self-respect is a form of self-care.

1. “I’m busy that day” (when the real reason is the price)

Dodging with schedules is socially safe.

“I’m slammed” preserves your image and avoids an awkward money talk.
But it also trains your nervous system to associate honesty with danger.

Try this instead: “Thanks for inviting me. That’s not in my budget this month. I’d love to plan a walk and coffee next week.”

You’re not rejecting the person—you’re redesigning the plan.

Over time, this honesty builds a healthier baseline.

People learn what to expect from you, and you discover that most friendships survive transparent conversations.

Some even get stronger.

Before you move on, ask yourself: what would you plan if you didn’t need to impress anyone?

2. “I already ate” (to avoid an expensive meal)

You’re not lying exactly. You did snack.

But what you’re really saying is, “That restaurant scares my budget.”

Here’s a cleaner version: “That spot’s a bit spendy for me right now. Want to try the new taco place?”

When I started answering like this, I realized how many people were relieved.

They were stressed too, just better at acting.

Clarity can be contagious.

3. “Let’s just split it”

This one used to be my go-to. It felt generous, adult, easy.

Inside, I was anxious.

“Let’s just split it” can mask fear: fear of seeming difficult, fear of being judged, fear of asking for fairness.

A direct alternative: “I’m going to pay for what I ordered.”

Keep it light. Smile. No lecture needed.

If someone pushes back, you can add: “I’m keeping a closer eye on spending right now.”

That’s it. You don’t owe a spreadsheet.

Here are a few simple scripts you can keep handy the next time the bill lands:

• “I’ll just cover my order.”

• “Looks like ours was X; I’ll transfer you now.”

• “I’m skipping drinks today, so I’ll pay separately.”

• “I’m budgeting this month—going to pay for mine.”

Use whichever feels like your voice. You’re setting a precedent your future self will thank you for.

4. “It was on sale!” (as a preemptive defense)

Sales are fine.

But when you announce a discount before anyone asks, you’re negotiating your right to buy something at all.

It’s a subtle apology—“I know I shouldn’t have, but I found a loophole.”

If you want the item and it fits your priorities, you don’t need a courtroom argument.

You can just say, “I love it,” and let the conversation move along.

If you’re worried you bought to soothe a feeling, pause with compassion.

As noted by many psychologists, our emotions carry information.

Rudá Iandê expresses a similar truth in his new book, Laughing in the Face of Chaos: A Politically Incorrect Shamanic Guide for Modern Life: “Our emotions are not some kind of extraneous or unnecessary appendage to our lives, but rather an integral part of who we are and how we make sense of the world around us.”

That line helped me slow down my impulse buys and listen to what I was really craving—rest, connection, creativity—before reaching for my card.

5. “I’ll figure it out later”

This phrase often pops up when you want to say yes but your money says “please wait.”

It sounds optimistic. It’s actually avoidance.

“Let me check my budget and get back to you tomorrow” is kinder to everyone.

It protects your stability, and it respects the other person’s planning.

If you struggle to follow through, set a reminder the moment you say it.

You’re building a muscle—response-ability.

That’s how your future stops feeling like a mystery and starts feeling like a plan.

6. “I don’t care—whatever you want” (decision fatigue in disguise)

Sometimes we say this because we’re tired.

Sometimes because we fear our preferences will be “too much.”

But indecision can be expensive.

Try: “My budget for this is $40. If that works, I’m in.”

Short. Neutral. Powerful.

This is where boundaries and relationships meet.

As Rudá Iandê writes, “Their happiness is their responsibility, not yours.”

You can be generous without being financially self-destructive. You can be flexible without being vague.

7. “It wasn’t that expensive” (downplaying as a reflex)

When I shifted to a minimalist lifestyle, I realized how often I minimized costs out loud.

Not to deceive, but to dodge the discomfort of being seen.

Downplaying keeps you small.

A simple reframe: “I saved for it.”

Or, “It was a priority for me this month.”

These statements signal ownership, not apology.

If someone presses for a number and you don’t want to share, you can say, “I’d rather keep the amount private.”

Directness can feel edgy at first. Then it feels freeing.

8. “I’m fine” (when you’re not)

“I’m fine” is the social Teflon of money conversations. It stops questions but also stops support.

If you’re in a tight season, you deserve community.

Try: “I’m making some changes to get stable again. I might say no to more things for a while.”

When you name your reality, you stop fighting yourself.

You turn toward it, and it softens.

As Rudá Iandê reminds us, “When we stop resisting ourselves, we become whole. And in that wholeness, we discover a reservoir of strength, creativity, and resilience we never knew we had.”

That’s the exact energy you need to rebuild—quiet, sturdy, and yours.

How to speak about money without shame

Here’s the pattern in all these phrases: we’re trying to be liked.

We want to belong. That’s human.

But belonging built on performance is expensive.

Belonging built on honesty is sustainable.

A few practices that helped me clean up my language:

Name the number before the ask.

If a trip invite comes in, I decide my ceiling first.

Then I say yes, no, or “yes if we can do it within X.”

Use “I” language.

“I’m budgeting for a goal right now” is easier to hear than “You always pick pricey places.”

Offer an equal alternative.

If you say no to the concert, suggest a night market, a picnic, or a matinee.

Money clarity lands best when it’s paired with connection.

Practice in low-stakes moments.

Tell your partner, “I want to talk money without shame tonight—can we try?”

Role-play a scenario.

It’s awkward for five minutes and liberating after.

And check your self-talk.

The words we use with others are field notes from the words we use with ourselves.

You deserve words that are honest and kind.

A quick note on culture and conditioning

Many of us learned early that money talk is impolite.

In some families it was a source of conflict. In others, a marker of status.

If you internalized that your value equals your spending power, of course you’ll want to hide.

This is where mindfulness helps.

Notice the sensation in your body when money comes up—a flutter in the chest, a tight jaw, a drop in the belly. Let the feeling be information, not a verdict. Take a breath before you answer.

You’re not broken. You’re rewiring.

The book I mentioned earlier has been a steady companion here.

I’ve talked about Rudá Iandê’s work before, and his new book—Laughing in the Face of Chaos: A Politically Incorrect Shamanic Guide for Modern Life—nudged me to question the stories I inherited about success and worth.

One line I highlighted: “We live immersed in an ocean of stories, from the collective narratives that shape our societies to the personal tales that define our sense of self.”

When I notice an old story—“Say yes so they’ll like you”—I thank it, then choose a truer one: “Say what’s real so you can like yourself.”

If you need a grounded, unconventional reset, his insights might resonate with you too.

Final thoughts

Money embarrassment isn’t a character flaw. It’s a strategy you learned to survive social pressure.

Today you can choose differently.

Name your number. Offer an alternative. Tell the truth kindly.

Before we finish, there’s one more thing I need to address.

If someone judges you for speaking plainly about your budget, that judgment belongs to them.

Your job is to live in alignment with your values, not to manage everyone else’s reactions.

Start with one sentence this week—just one—that trades apology for clarity.

See how your body feels afterward. That feeling is the point.