Growing up, money was rarely something we spoke about openly.
It was there in the background of everyday life, shaping decisions about what was possible and what had to wait, but it was not something we explored with honesty or curiosity. Conversations about finances often felt private or tense, and sometimes quietly shameful. Like many young people, I learnt early on that money mattered deeply, yet I was given very little language or guidance to talk about it.
Over time, I have come to see how common this experience is. Money is often treated as a purely practical subject, something we are expected to understand instinctively once we reach adulthood. Schools may teach the maths behind managing finances but rarely address the emotional realities of financial stress, financial uncertainty and financial comparison. Families do their best, yet many are navigating the same gaps in knowledge themselves.
We often describe financial literacy as a technical skill. In reality, it is much more than that. Money is closely tied to safety, dignity and opportunity. It shapes whether someone feels able to pursue education, take career risks or plan for the future. When young people lack reliable information or feel embarrassed to ask questions, the consequences are not only financial, but psychological and social as well.
This is particularly important at a time when financial information is everywhere, but it is not always clear which voices you can trust. Many young people learn about budgeting, investing and saving through social media. While this has democratised access to knowledge, it has also blurred the line between education, opinion and marketing. Advice is often shaped by algorithms rather than evidence, and confidence can be mistaken for credibility.
For many young people, the challenge is no longer access to information. It is knowing which information is safe to rely on.
This is where institutions, educators and policymakers have a critical role to play. If we want young people to build healthy financial futures, we cannot leave them to navigate this landscape alone. Financial education needs to reflect the diversity of young people’s starting points, recognising that inequality, family circumstances and cultural expectations all shape financial choices.
It has to be intersectional, because young people’s financial realities are shaped not only by age, but by race, gender, disability, migration, class and the structural inequalities that determine who starts with security and who starts with barriers.
Through my work with youth communities, I have seen how powerful it can be when young people are simply given permission to talk honestly about money. When spaces are created for open conversation rather than judgement, questions that once felt embarrassing become normal. Confusion becomes shared learning. Confidence grows not just from knowledge, but from feeling supported.
These conversations matter because financial well-being is deeply connected to mental well-being. Persistent financial stress can affect concentration, sleep and self-esteem. It influences how young people perform at school or work, and whether they feel they have genuine choices about their future. Treating money purely as an economic issue overlooks these wider impacts.
For me, Global Money Week is a reminder that financial literacy is about ensuring that conversations around money are credible, inclusive and free from stigma, which can help build trust between young people and the systems that are meant to support them.
When financial education is done well, it does more than improve budgeting skills. It expands possibility. It enables young people to negotiate fairly, plan long term and participate more fully in their communities and economies.
Ultimately, the goal is not just financially capable young people, but financially empowered ones. And this starts with creating cultures where money is not taboo, questions are welcomed and honest conversations are the norm.
