Tough love and money: Financial advice that actually changes lives

I’ve spent more than half my life in finance and helped thousands of people feel more in control of their money. But, honestly, when I first started giving financial advice, I was too nice.

Clients would come in after over-spending and not sticking to our goals-based financial plan and tell me a well-constructed (and, in some instances, pre-rehearsed) sob story of their latest mishap.

They would tell me how they were just so busy, or tired, or that they just, kind of, ‘accidentally’ slipped and bought a brand new (and very expensive) car. And I would be there to soothe them, amend the strategy and give them their next steps.

They would leave feeling relieved (probably) that I hadn’t raked them over the coals, and I thought that meant ‘job well done’ on my part. Then I started to notice that this was a pattern. They would rinse and repeat the same stories and reasons, and I would once again realign their plan. I realised I wasn’t helping them at all. They were flushing their goals down the toilet, and the only thing I was helping them do was to feel okay about it.

I decided that wasn’t the kind of financial adviser I would want, so it wasn’t the financial adviser I was going to be. 

Bringing neuroscience to money

I enrolled in a program to learn about acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT), which focuses on helping people behave more consistently with their values and apply mindfulness skills to their actions. I became obsessed with what a greater understanding of neuroscience could do to the way we manage and think about money.

When I began applying some of my newly learned techniques with clients, I started seeing amazing results. I realised my job had very little to do with numbers and much more to do with helping people build better and more productive beliefs, habits, techniques and rituals to support their growth.

Of course, financial stuff went with this – including cash flow plans, debt-reduction strategies, investment plans and financial protection plans – but this foundational work needed to be completed first.

What I realised was fascinating (and now quite obvious): helping people build a financial game plan started with the person, not the money.

Talking about different investment options is futile if there is no money to invest. Giving people a perfectly risk-profiled retirement strategy without first addressing their fears and hopes and dreams means they will never actually implement it.

So, I started more human-first financial coaching with my clients, and it worked so well I was embarrassed (and honestly a bit angry) that I didn’t do it sooner.

Tough love has merits

Initially, I was hesitant to dish out tough love when my clients came in with their tales of financial snafus and excuses, but do you know what I learned? They loved it. Sure, it didn’t always feel good for them right then and there. But once they realised that they could no longer get away with the BS they once could, our relationship grew stronger and deeper.

I told them that their goals would either need to be thrown in the bin or seriously reduced down if they kept going the way they were. I told them it didn’t bother me if they never achieved their goals; it wasn’t my life they were playing with, but theirs. Only they would need to live with the consequences of their actions. Harsh, but this ignited the fire and the fight in them.

They were not okay with me striking through their goals, or writing ‘on hold’ or ‘not a priority’ next to things they longed for. It was honestly fascinating to watch their whole being change. Instead of excuses, they started looking for ways to get back on track. They got more focused and committed to doing the (often hard) work.

Sometimes, my tough love didn’t work. For some, the idea of financial freedom not just happening overnight wasn’t an easy pill to swallow. Some of them thought engaging a financial adviser meant I would bring out my magic wand, wave it around and make everything better. How I wish I owned that wand.

And so, a tough decision would have to be made: step up or step off. I couldn’t, in good conscience, keep charging them fees for a strategy they were not implementing.

Get fired up or fired

The idea of firing my first client was one that made me sick to my stomach. They had turned to me for help and I was releasing them back into the jungle, often without the strategies in place that we had agreed to achieve together. I wondered if I was failing them. Maybe I wasn’t cut out for this.

I didn’t sign up for an emotional roller-coaster when I studied financial advice. I signed up for investment modelling, tax minimisation strategies, meticulously detailed cash flow plans that showed exactly when a goal would be attained. I wanted clean, sterile strategies that lived in a Petri dish within a temperature-controlled lab – or some mythical place where plans are executed perfectly. Ah, but that is not real life.

What I encountered instead were clients facing redundancies, unexpected pregnancies, income changes, divorces, illnesses and left-field inheritances. Once the oxygen of real life hits that lab-controlled Petri dish, you don’t always have the predictable outcomes you planned for. 

But that is what you are working with – a life that crisscrosses down unexpected paths. A life that sometimes sees you take a step back to go forward or go down a shortcut you previously didn’t know was there.

 It’s a journey that can be messy, unpredictable, contradictory and sometimes even dangerous. And the only person who holds the map is you.