When the System Feels Unsafe, Unstable

Suzi’s Secrets # 36: Why Women Feel Financially Vulnerable During Uncertain Times

Even when shadows pass overhead, women build their own stability.

Something feels exposed. Like a hidden fuse was just lit and we’re left wondering what will be exposed when it explodes. Not just in headlines. Not just in conversations. But in the body.

When stories about power, exploitation, and the ways women have been unprotected resurface, even in fragments, something shifts beneath the surface. It isn’t always loud. It isn’t even always conscious. It’s a tightening in the ribs. A subtle scanning of the room. A recalibration of trust. That shift often shows up as financial vulnerability in uncertain times. Not because women are fragile, but because we are perceptive. 

When systems that were supposed to protect people reveal cracks, the body remembers things the mind would rather keep theoretical. And then, almost poetically, we move through eclipse season; shadow crossing light. Interruption. Exposure.

Even if you see astrology as symbolic rather than literal, the metaphor is difficult to ignore. Something passes over what felt steady. What was assumed stable looks different for a moment. Add to that a rare planetary alignment, tension points drawing into proximity, forces that normally operate separately suddenly interacting, and the theme becomes unmistakable: Pressure. Realignment. Reordering.

When that kind of energy overlays cultural exposure, it doesn’t just create news cycles; it creates sensation. I’ve noticed what that combination does inside me. It doesn’t create panic. It creates assessment. There was a time in my life when safety was not philosophical. It was arithmetic. I knew exactly how much was in the account at all times. I knew which bill could stretch and which could not. I knew what it felt like to carry the quiet weight of “no one is coming to fix this but me.”

When you have lived there, your nervous system does not forget it. Financial vulnerability in uncertain times doesn’t start in the mind. It starts in memory. And not just personal memory; generational memory. Women carry stories in their bodies. Stories of economic dependence. Stories of being trapped because they couldn’t leave. Stories of relying on systems that did not prioritize their protection. Even if we did not live those exact stories ourselves, we inherited the awareness. We inherited the vigilance. We inherited the instinct to quietly calculate what would happen if we had to stand alone.

So when the world hints at fracture, whether cultural, political, economic, or energetic, something ancient inside many women straightens its spine. 

We do not just react. We prepare. We look at savings. We reorganize budgets. We assess income streams. We ask ourselves, quietly: If something shifts, am I stable?

That isn’t hysteria. That is wisdom. There is a reason financial vulnerability in uncertain times feels physical. The nervous system is wired for survival and predictability. When predictability wobbles, the body seeks control where it can find it. For many women, money becomes that locus of control, not as obsession, but as leverage.

Money is autonomy. Money is options. Money is the ability to make decisions from strength instead of fear. There is a difference between wealth for status and stability for sovereignty. The first is performance. The second is freedom. I learned that difference the hard way. I learned it standing in grocery aisles doing mental math. I learned it deciding which bill could wait without triggering consequences. I learned it understanding, very clearly, that dependency is rarely neutral.

Dependency can be loving. It can be mutual. It can be healthy. But forced dependency, dependency without choice, is vulnerability. That is why financial clarity matters so deeply to me. Not because numbers are exciting, but because clarity removes fragility. 

When I feel the world tilt, even slightly, I do not spiral into fear. I open spreadsheets. I review accounts. I tighten systems. I reinforce foundations. Over the past few weeks, I have noticed more women doing the same. Reaching out. Asking questions. Wanting to see the full picture of their finances instead of avoiding it. Wanting someone steady and competent to help them organize what is already theirs.

Financial vulnerability in uncertain times does not mean we are unstable. It means we are aware. It means we understand that systems can fail, but preparation is power. It means we refuse to be caught off guard.

Eclipses pass. Alignments shift. News cycles move on. But the work of building stability endures. And maybe that is the deeper invitation in seasons like this. Not to panic. Not to obsess, but to quietly strengthen the ground beneath our own feet. To know where we stand. To choose autonomy over illusion. To build foundations that do not collapse when shadows cross overhead.

Financial vulnerability in uncertain times is not a weakness. It is a signal. And when we listen to it wisely, it becomes strategy.

💜Suzette R. Berry 💜