How Does Get Good With Money Help With Financial Wholeness?

That day, my parents and sister who were all working abroad suddenly told me that I was a second-generation rich with trillions of dollars in wealth!Gerald Crawford: I am a second-generation rich?

On the third day after our divorce was finalized, my ex-wife, Georgie Anderson, sent me a text message. [Why haven’t you transferred your salary from this month to me?] I thought she was joking. [We’re already divorced.] [So? What does it matter if we’re divorced? You should transfer nineteen thousand dollars from your twenty-thousand-dollar income, just like you did before. The remaining one thousand dollars will be your pocket money. When you were unemployed, I was the one who took care of you. Now that we’re divorced, you’re turning your back on me?] I stared at her text messages and fell silent for a really long time. Throughout our three-year marriage, I gave her nineteen thousand dollars out of my twenty-thousand-dollar salary. She was responsible for "budgeting" our household expenses. However, she spent my money on her civil service exam, afternoon teas with her besties, and even on her study partner, whom I’d never met. As for me, I handled all the house chores—cooking dinner, mopping the floors and doing the laundry. But when I took a little time after work to game, she would yell at me for being lazy. She was demanding money from me even after we were divorced. Her reason was that I might spend the money without thinking. I blocked her number. Three seconds later, she sent me a text message from another phone number. [You’ll regret this. I’m trying to help you one last time.] I laughed. ‘Helping me?’ I thought. Nobody had ever helped me in the past three years.

In our life we go through many choices , some are easy and some are hard but it's we who make the choices . But what will happen if you have two choices, " Money or Love " yeah it's easy to choose love but is it easy to stand with it for a lifetime ? The story revolves around this question " Money or Love " . Shikha, a 16 year old girl, runs away from her house just to get her parent's attention and maybe love too but her life turns upside down when she meets a guy who was living his life just with his wife and daughter's memories . Her argue to know his story leads her to a wonderful journey of love , a journey where there was a poor orphan boy and a rich dad's princess . The love they shared and the memories they made , just like a couple which the god made . But as it said love is beautiful but not easy , something happens in the guy's life which makes him alone for his lifetime . He kept it a secret from the world and buried it somewhere in his heart .

As soon as I get off the surgical table after my miscarriage, my husband, Presley Quinn, sends me a text message. "You were ten cents short when you paid your share of the power bill this month. Transfer the money to me immediately." I can only sit on the cold bench in the hospital on my own. The anesthesia has yet to wear out, but my belly is already hurting so much that I can practically feel it constricting on itself. The next thing I know, a new post appears on my social media homepage. It's a post made by Vivienne Ashford, the intern Presley is in charge of tutoring. In the photo, Vivienne can be seen holding a bouquet of flowers folded from money bills. A bright and radiant smile blooms on her face. The four-leaf clover necklace adorning her neck is the same necklace I've seen in Presley's purchase history two days ago. The caption of the photo writes, "I don't want a lot of money. I want a ton of love instead." Only then do I remember that today is Valentine's Day as well as my fifth-year anniversary with Presley. Over the past five years, Presley and I have been splitting every single bill, down to two decimal places. If I take a shower for more than 20 minutes, Presley demands that I pay extra for the water heater's power bill. When I cook myself some supper in the middle of the night, Presley wants me to split the gas bill generated by the stove. Even when my mom is hospitalized due to kidney failure and is waiting for her surgical bills to be settled, Presley refuses to lend me a single cent. Instead, he sends me a few links leading to web loans. As I stare at the social media feed, I chuckle all of a sudden. It turns out that Presley does know how to spend money. It's just that he doesn't have the heart to spend it on me. I smile once again as I leave a like on the post. Then, I transfer the ten cents to Presley. From now on, I don't owe him any single penny.

I turn down a dream research program at Hefford University just so I can stay and help my debt-ridden boyfriend run a burger stand. This time, he says he's serious. I give him all the money I've saved up over the years, hoping we can build a better future together. A few hours later, I discover he's forgotten two hundred dollars in the drawer. I grab the money and run out, hoping to catch him. What I catch is a scene straight out of a corny movie. The loan sharks who used to beat and threaten him are now bowing and nodding deferentially. "Sir, I guess we don't need to show up at your house anymore, right?" Kurt Saunders rubs his temples and replies, "Yup. Anna gave up her entire future for me. She even turned down an opportunity to study at Hefford just to help me pay off my debts." Before he even finishes, his childhood friend lets out a giggle. "Kurt, that's still not enough. You'll only know if she really doesn't mind being poor if she sticks around through a year of flipping burgers without any complaints." Kurt looks at her sly expression and lets out a helpless laugh. "Alright, we'll do it your way. One more year of pretending. Anna would never leave me anyway." I stand there, listening to the sound of my own heart shatter. Kurt, you think I'm giving up my future for you, but it's still mine, and I can take it back.

I was the stingiest rich wife in the city’s high society. I did not spend money on beauty treatments or travel. In fact, I did not even own a single decent outfit or a handbag. Everyone laughed at me. They said I had the fortune of a wealthy family but not the luck to enjoy it. However, what they did not know was that behind closed doors, Arvid Hans, who was famous for his lavish spending, was a hundred times stingier than I was. He piled on gold and jewels to keep up appearances in public. However, with me, he was a miser, refusing to spend a single extra penny. We split every expense down to the last penny. Every meal and every prescription required a receipt and an entry in the ledger. He said this was to help me develop a business mindset. He said that fairness and caution were the keys to a lasting relationship. While other wives were decked out in expensive jewelry, I was dressed simply. He said I was naturally beautiful and did not need such trinkets to enhance my looks. Even our housekeeper was hoarding gold for investment. Yet he kept me from touching a single penny, citing the Hans family’s tradition of being frugal. For three years of marriage, I lived like a devout nun, strictly adhering to the “rules of frugality” he had tailored for me. It was not until Christmas Eve, when I returned a day early from visiting my parents, that I discovered someone else had been living the life of luxury meant for me.