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The Poor Kid on the Block: How I Wired My Brain for Poverty (And How I’m Rewiring It)

Updated: 4 days ago


This poignant illustration captures the visceral "shame of the poor kid," visualizing the heavy burden of a scarcity mindset described in the accompanying article. It depicts a young boy in a dusty town, contemplating the pennies in his hand—a powerful metaphor for the inner smalls that keep us trapped in survival mode long after the immediate threat has passed. This image serves as a deeply relatable entry point into the 12 Journeys program, where individuals learn to rewrite these early narratives and regulate their nervous system to find their inner Giant. It is a perfect visual representation for those seeking mentorship for growth and stress management techniques to overcome past adversity, emphasizing that this path is non-clinical coaching and personal development only, not therapy. The scene encourages viewers to move beyond their history and build true internal safety.

The red dust of St. George always felt heavier when you were the poor kid on the block. I can still taste that specific shame; it tastes like pennies.



I was ten years old. My mom had just lost the restaurant she poured her soul into. She leveraged our home against the business, and when the business broke, the walls came down with it. On Christmas say, 1985, we opened our gifts, got in the moving van, and moved to a new town, where I learned the most dangerous lesson of my life: Safety is a performance.



So I performed. I strove to fit in. I tried to look like I wasn’t terrified.



But you can’t outrun your own wiring.



If you’re like me, you’ve spent decades trying to "fix" yourself, not realizing you were never broken; you were just highly adapted to a war zone.



My war started at age two when my dad died. It escalated in a house with eight kids under the age of eight. Chaos wasn’t an event; it was the atmosphere. Neglect was the norm.



By 33, the pattern repeated. Bankruptcy. Foreclosure. Then 2019 hit; divorce, alimony, child support. I was trying to feed my kids on the weekends while paying to feed them elsewhere. It felt like I was drowning in a sea of "shoulds" while my brain was screaming for oxygen.

This poignant illustration captures the visceral "shame of the poor kid," visualizing the heavy burden of a scarcity mindset described in the accompanying article. It depicts a young boy in a dusty town, contemplating the pennies in his hand—a powerful metaphor for the inner smalls that keep us trapped in survival mode long after the immediate threat has passed. This image serves as a deeply relatable entry point into the 12 Journeys program, where individuals learn to rewrite these early narratives and regulate their nervous system to find their inner Giant. It is a perfect visual representation for those seeking mentorship for growth and stress management techniques to overcome past adversity, emphasizing that this path is non-clinical coaching and personal development only, not therapy. The scene encourages viewers to move beyond their history and build true internal safety.

I was trying to thrive, but my biology was stuck in survive.



The Architecture of the Survival Brain



Early childhood adversity rewires the nervous system to prioritize immediate threat detection over long-term planning.



I didn't understand why I couldn't just "step up." I had mentors. I had tools. But I was stepping from a platform of trauma.



The science is brutal and validating. It’s called Allostatic Load. This is the cumulative wear and tear on your body from chronic stress. When you grow up in unpredictability; new towns, financial ruin, grief, your amygdala (the threat detector) undergoes hypertrophy.



It gets huge. It gets sensitive.



My brain wasn't scanning for opportunity. It was scanning for the next foreclosure.


This comprehensive visual roadmap outlines the strategic framework of the 12 Journeys program, illustrating the profound transformation from a reactive survival state to a life of purposeful impact. Grounded in the metaphors of The Giants and the Smalls, the infographic details the path one takes to silence the fearful, limiting voice of the inner smalls and awaken the strength of the inner Giant. It visualizes the step-by-step process of mindset training and emotional regulation, offering a clear guide for those seeking to overcome limiting beliefs and achieve psychological resilience. Perfect for anyone seeking online coaching or a personal growth mentor in Salt Lake City, this image demonstrates a structured approach to life strategy. It is important to note that while this framework addresses deep internal patterns, it provides non-clinical coaching and mentorship for growth, distinct from medical treatment or therapy.


The Kindling Effect



This is why the 2019 crash hurt so bad. It wasn't just a divorce. In neuroscience, this is known as "Kindling".



The Spark: The childhood loss of home.


The Fuel: Decades of "striving" and high-functioning anxiety.


The Fire: The adult financial crisis re-lit the old neural pathways.



My nervous system didn't distinguish between a court document and a physical attack. It just knew safety was gone.



The Bandwidth Tax



Scarcity is not just a lack of resources; it is a physiological state that reduces fluid intelligence and executive function.



I used to judge myself for being "stuck." Why couldn't I plan better? Why was I so reactive?



Research by Mullainathan and Shafir explains this perfectly. It’s called the Bandwidth Tax. When you are "tunneling" on survival—focusing on the alimony, the rent, the grocery bill—your functional IQ drops by up to 13 points.



That’s the equivalent of losing a full night’s sleep, every single day.



I wasn’t stupid. I was exhausted.



The Lie of "Transient Hypofrontality"



In survival mode, the brain disables the prefrontal cortex to conserve energy for the fight response.



I knew the term, transient hypofrontality. I thought it meant "flow state." Athletes get it. Artists get it. It’s that beautiful moment where the thinking brain shuts off and you just "do".



But for me? It was a prison.



There is a massive difference between choosing to let go and being forced to shut down.



I was living in the right column. My prefrontal cortex; the CEO of my brain, was out to lunch. I couldn't "mindset" my way out of this because the hardware required to do that work was offline.



Recovery requires a bottom-up approach that prioritizes nervous system regulation over cognitive strategy.



I had to stop listening to the gurus telling me to "hustle." You cannot hustle your way out of a freeze response. You have to melt it.



I started doing the work that didn't make sense on paper.


This inspiring visualization represents the core message of the article: the deliberate act of rebuilding one's life foundation after the "walls come down." It captures the essence of The Giants and the Smalls, showing a man turning away from the chaos of survival mode to carefully construct a new reality, brick by brick. This figure embodies the transition from a reactive state dominated by inner smalls to the intentional power of the Giant, a process central to the 12 Journeys program. The glowing bricks symbolize the mindset training and nervous system regulation tools required to build "safety from the inside out," ensuring you aren't building a "skyscraper on a foundation of panic." This image attracts those seeking non-clinical coaching and mentorship for growth to navigate major life transitions, distinguishing itself as personal development only and not therapy. It is a perfect metaphor for anyone needing stress management techniques or a life strategy guide, whether locally in Salt Lake City or via online coaching.


Vagal Braking: I stopped trying to solve the money problem with my mind and started solving the panic problem with my breath. Long exhales to trigger the Vagus nerve.



The Shift-and-Persist: I realized the alimony wasn't a predator. It was just a transaction. I had to separate the "shame of the poor kid" from the "math of the adult".



The truth is, I’m still walking this.



Some days, the fear is just fear. Nothing else.



But I know now that I am not my history. I am not the foreclosure. I am the man learning to build safety from the inside out so that the next time the wind blows, I don't break.



This is the practice.



Where in your life are you trying to build a skyscraper on a foundation of panic?



Follow along as I continue to walk this path.



I explore this in The 12 Journeys, and I am ready when you are to teach it to you.





Curious if the 12 Journeys are for you? Drop a comment with the word 'WISDOM' and I’ll send you the first week’s framework for free so you can test the methodology yourself. No strings attached.

 
 
 

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