I’ve noticed a certain difference between those who were born into wealth and those who grew up without it.
It’s not about education, access, or surnames. Those differences are obvious. What interests me more is something less visible — the relationship with money that forms very early and rarely disappears completely.
People raised in financially stable environments often treat money as structure. Something that simply exists. Something that operates in the background. Something that does not require daily attention. Decisions about risk, investment, or entrepreneurship are made from a position of security.
It looks different for those who grew up in the shadow of scarcity.
There, money is not theory. It is tension. It is a bill. It is rent. It is a conversation at the table that cannot be avoided. Every decision carries weight, and the consequences are real and immediate.
This difference does not mean one group has it easier and the other harder. It simply means they begin with a different map.
For someone who has witnessed financial difficulty up close, money becomes a tool of stabilization very early on. Not a symbol of status. Not aesthetics. Not a message. First, it is safety.
And that changes the way one looks at business, investment, or risk. Ambition becomes less abstract. More concrete. Less about prestige, more about moving away from a specific starting point.
In higher classes, by contrast, money can feel self-evident. Its absence was never directly experienced, so risk carries a different meaning. It does not always imply loss of stability. Often, it implies only a shift in position.
Perhaps that is why two people with similar talent can make entirely different financial decisions. One will be cautious and consistent. The other more relaxed and more speculative.
Not because they are better or worse.
But because their first experience of money was different.
And sometimes that first contact — with scarcity or with abundance — remains the most important filter for a lifetime.
— Michał
Refined Money