Financial trauma:
Real stories
As featured in The Straits Times, September 2026
Because this conversation is overdue. After 16 years of coaching, and as the first certified Trauma of Money practitioner in Southeast Asia, Iโm still struck by how many forms money trauma takes. A 2-hour interview with The Straits Times left me knowing there was more to say than 1 article could hold. Money trauma is not only โ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฑ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ฏโ or โ๐โ๐ฎ ๐ฑ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ณโ. People with plenty of money experience it too, and itโs far more common than most people expect. Often it doesnโt look like crisis at all, just a pattern that has run so long youโve stopped questioning it. This series is my attempt to name what Iโve witnessed, so more people can recognise it in their own lives, and know that what they carry has a ๐ป๐ฎ๐บ๐ฒ, ๐ฎ๐ป๐ฑ ๐ฎ ๐ฝ๐ฎ๐๐ต ๐๐ต๐ฟ๐ผ๐๐ด๐ต. _______________________________________________________________________________________________________ Before you browse the episodes below: ๐ฉ๐๐๐จ ๐๐จ๐ฃโ๐ฉ ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ก๐๐จ๐ฉ ๐ค๐ง ๐ ๐๐๐๐๐ฃ๐ค๐จ๐๐จ. Every story shares an internal world: how a money event shapes the way we feel, decide, avoid and relate, often for decades. The nervous system responds to a money threat as it does to any threat. You might recognise 1 or more of the 5Fs: โข FIGHT: anger, defensiveness, the need to control โข FLIGHT: avoidance, busyness, escape โข FREEZE: paralysis, the inability to act or decide โข FAWN: people-pleasing, self-abandonment to keep the peace โข FLOP: shutdown, dissociation, collapse Most of us move between them. None are character flaws. All make sense given what happened. As you read, notice which F rises in you. Itโs pointing to something ๐ต๐ณ๐ถ๐ฆ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ข๐ญ. ๐๐ง ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถโ๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ช๐ฌ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฑ๐ข๐ฏ๐บ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ธ๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ง๐ช๐ฏ๐ฅ, ๐โ๐ฎ ๐ข ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ด๐ด๐ข๐จ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ธ๐ข๐บ.
Browse the series:
Single Incident
Burnout
Chronic illness
Inability to retire
Poverty
Ongoing
IMMEDIATE FAMILY
INTERGENERATIONAL
Inheritance as control
inherited/ nature
Out now, tap to read
Coming soon
It shows up in more ways than we name.
Single Incident
Breadwinner Suddenly Dies
The breadwinner dies โ the person who handled everything โ and what follows isn't only grief. Arriving alongside is: a rent notice, a sibling's school fees, questions about accounts nobody knew existed, and decisions made by someone you loved that you now have to reckon with. The incongruence of it is its own kind of cruelty. Grief is raw and formless. Money decisions are cold and immediate. And yet that is exactly what sudden loss requires. Sometimes this happens to teenagers, suddenly the most financially capable person in the household. Sometimes to spouses who were kept comfortable but uninformed. Always to people who had no warning, no preparation, and no framework for what came next. In my practice I've witnessed what this leaves behind โ not just in the immediate aftermath, but years and sometimes decades later. The golden rules written in the shock of that moment: I'll never be caught out again. I must prepare for every situation. I am alone in this. They were born in survival. They reached for safety when safety had disappeared. And for a time, they worked. But rules written in crisis travel further than we intend. Decades later, they show up as an inability to take risks. A resistance to living spontaneously. A difficulty sharing all of yourself โ financially, emotionally โ with another person. A quiet vigilance that never quite switches off. This is how financial trauma reverberates. Not as a memory, but as a way of moving through the world. It has a name. And there is a path through.
Single Incident
Getting Scammed
"๐๐ฆ๐ณ๐ช๐ง๐บ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ณ ๐ข๐ค๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ต ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ด๐ฆ ๐ข๐ค๐ค๐ฆ๐ด๐ด!" โ logo right, tone official, a deadline that gave minutes, not time to think. Or the other version: an opportunity too good to plan around properly, gone the moment you hesitate. Different bait, same hook โ act now, think later. That urgency wasn't incidental to the scam. It was the mechanism, built deliberately to move you into action before judgment had a chance to catch up. The practical fallout โ cancelling cards, resetting passwords, filing a report โ is hassle enough on its own. Running alongside it, for most people: a private inquisition. How did I fall for that. What does this say about my judgment. How could I have been so foolish. That question deserves a more honest answer than "be more careful next time." Scams are engineered by people who study exactly how urgency, authority, and a stressful moment interact with a human nervous system. This wasn't a lapse in character. It was a well-built trap meeting an ordinary day. What helps to move forward in practice isn't more vigilance layered onto this past โ that just compounds the cost. It's closer to permission: this could have happened to almost anyone, on the wrong day, in the wrong hour. The story doesn't need to be re-run indefinitely to be learned from. Worth naming directly: understanding this intellectually and feeling safe again in your body are 2 different things with their own speed. The nervous system doesn't heal by logic โ it often needs time, repetition of safety, or support to recalibrate. So if you still feel the old vigilance firing, that's not a failure to learn the lesson. It's a sign of where the actual work is.
Original Work Stolen
You scan the launch material line by line. No mention of you. Not a footnote, not an informal thank you. Just the finished thing โ live, full credit claimed as their own. No message beforehand. No heads-up โ the kind that costs the other person nothing and means everything to the one who did the original thinking. What tends to get taken in situations like this isn't only the work itself. It's the instinct that made the work possible to begin with: the willingness to share something before it's finished, to build in the open, to extend a collaborator the benefit of the doubt with a rough idea. In practice, what replaces that instinct is a closed hand - and heart. Ideas held until they're fully defensible. Every new collaboration run through a background calculation โ who else might use this against me. Openness, once a starting point, becomes something to manage instead. This form of financial trauma rarely gets named as such, because there's often no clean transaction to point to. But the litmus test was never about the transaction. It's the suspicion that now overhangs anything that would otherwise be shared freely โ a rough idea, an early draft, a name on an email. Not a considered decision. A nervous system that no longer has a reliable read on what's safe, or who's safe to extend it to. One question I work through with clients rebuilding capacity for trust here: what would you need to see โ about a person, a company, an approach โ before itโs safe and smart to share an idea with them? Not, never sharing. Just knowing what "safe enough" actually looks like now.
Inheritance Dispute
Grief is a time that can bring a family closer. In estate disputes, it does the opposite. A will that surprises everyone โ a late change, an unexpected beneficiary. Or no will at all, just competing memories of what was promised, none of them agreeing. Often the entire conflict centres on one thing that resists division โ not because it's rare or physically hard to split, but because it meant something different to each person standing over it. There's rarely space to grieve before the practical fighting begins. For some families, the fighting becomes the only outlet grief has left, once it's been displaced onto something as concrete and arguable as an estate. What I've observed tends to outlast the dispute by a wide margin. โข The sibling who came out ahead usually carries something too โ a guilt rarely spoken aloud. โข The siblings who didn't: a resentment that doesn't fade, because it was never really about the money. โข Perhaps it was about what the division seemed to communicate โ who was loved more, trusted more, understood more clearly, by someone no longer present to clarify. โข Or people who behaved one way while the parent was alive, and an entirely different way the moment they weren't there to see it. Relationships that survive the parent. And don't survive the will.
Closing Your Business
Founders call me when their business is ending. I've closed one myself, so I know how many different things that call can be about. Business closure comes in 4 shapes: ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ฆ๐ข๐ง, ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐ฎ๐ซ๐ง๐จ๐ฎ๐ญ, ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐๐๐ญ๐ซ๐๐ฒ๐๐ฅ and ๐ญ๐ก๐ ๐ข๐๐๐ง๐ญ๐ข๐ญ๐ฒ. Only the admin comes with a checklist. Shame tends to arrive with all of them: "๐ ๐ธ๐ข๐ด ๐ธ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐จ." That is a lot for one sentence, and founders usually say it to themselves, in a role where everyone expected them to have the answers. There's a practical cost too. Closing a company means decisions on money, contracts, people and reputation, all made while the nervous system is on alert. We're not our best selves in that state, and the stakes are highest exactly then. The wound is where the light enters. Everything I rued and regretted in the aftermath of my own closure, I'm applying now. I'm laying the groundwork for another partnership, having every conversation we avoided last time, with respect and transparency, including the one about endings. If you're closing something now, or still carrying something from one you closed years ago, what would it look like to lose the scar tissue and the blame, and take the lesson forward?
Ongoing
Financial Infidelity
You bought something and didn't mention it to your partner. You sent money to someone knowing your partner would object. The transaction was real. The conversation never happened. Financial infidelity isn't always selfish. Sometimes it's a guilty pleasure splurge โ the bag, the gadget, the thing you wanted without having to justify it. Sometimes it's avoiding a fight that would cost more than the purchase. Sometimes it's money quietly sent to a family member who needed it, or covering for someone whose addiction you weren't ready to name out loud. The reasons are complicated. The people carrying them are rarely simply dishonest. My husband Jeremy Tan and I manage our finances collectively โ every major purchase discussed, sometimes even the small repeated ones (we've had the taxi conversation more than once). It's occasionally been a source of conflict. But the act of building alignment and backing it up with action is, for us, a pillar of honesty. Some couples agree on a threshold โ a one-off purchase under a certain amount is yours to make without discussion. Both are valid. But whether finances are managed jointly or separately, your financial lives intertwine. And when family responsibilities enter the picture, the lines get complicated fast. What makes financial infidelity traumatic isn't the amount. It's the secrecy. The broken agreement. The aloneness of a financial life that can't be fully shared. In today's world of digital payments and financial forensics, secrets are harder to keep โ which means the discovery, when it comes, arrives with evidence. A pattern of it โ or a significant one โ escalates from mistake to betrayal. And betrayal leaves a mark that budgeting cannot fix. How do you and your partner navigate this โ do you have a threshold, or is everything on the table?
Displaced by AI/Automation
"๐๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ข๐ด๐ฌ๐ด ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฃ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ถ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ข๐ต๐ฆ๐ฅ." Delivered in a meeting titled "๐ฒ๐ถ๐ช๐ค๐ฌ ๐ด๐บ๐ฏ๐ค," wrapped in language built by legal and HR to manage risk โ restructuring, efficiency, redundancy โ rather than to acknowledge the person receiving it. That corporate distance is its own kind of cold. Such language is engineered to protect the company, not to acknowledge the weight of years of work you did. A second injury on top of the first: nobody in that room will, or can, tell you what you actually contributed. Two things happen at once here, and they run on different timelines. 1๏ธโฃ The practical: a longer job search than expected, for a role that comes anywhere near the pay, title, or ground of the one that was lost. 2๏ธโฃ The psychological: I thought I was on the right track. Everything I built suddenly counts for nothing. If a machine can do this, what does that make me. That second one festers with silence. It has the effect of erasing your best moments in your career, and even your best skills: the judgment under pressure, the read on a room, the calls nobody wrote down. These don't automate away. It's yours to carry into whatever's next. The income comes back, one way or another. The self-belief rebuilds on its own timeline โ and it starts with remembering what you contributed, and owning it, whether or not anyone else ever does.
Toxic Workplace Culture
Some signs a workplace has quietly taken over: checking messages before you're fully out of bed. A minor mistake treated as a crisis, because everyone around you has tacitly agreed that it is one. Work consistently outranking every other priority โ health, relationships, your actual life outside the job. I lived this for 7 years at Morgan Stanley. A wrong footnote could get you dismantled in front of a room. Reading a 537-page prospectus through the night, just in case. Checking voicemail at dawn, still in bed, before being properly awake. Nobody explained the rules directly โ you learned them by observing what happened to whoever broke them. Morgan Stanley also gave me a great deal โ real-world education, global experience, people who genuinely invested in me, the financial foundation that eventually let me leave. This isn't specific to the firm. It's a workplace culture, and it isn't confined to finance. It shows up anywhere the demand to outperform yourself has no ceiling. And sometimes, it is one bad apple in a decent culture: a narcissistic micromanager โ masking their own incompetence with authoritarianism, controlling every detail not because it serves the work, but because control is the only thing standing between them and being found out. You spend your energy managing their insecurity on top of doing your actual job. It took years, and later, training in nonviolent communication, before I had language for what I'd actually experienced. With that language: abuse. It takes your identity. Your self-worth. The part of you that feels alive rather than merely functional. And left unaddressed, I believe โ my own view, not a clinical claim โ it can take your physical health too. If this sounds like where you are right now, come find me. Let's talk about what coping with it, or eventually leaving it, could look like for you. And if you know someone still inside it, consider sending this their way.
Domestic Financial Abuse
A friend told me recently: โ๐ ๐ธ๐ช๐ด๐ฉ ๐ ๐ค๐ฐ๐ถ๐ญ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญ ๐ด๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฆ ๐ข๐ฃ๐ฐ๐ถ๐ต ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ, ๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฎ ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฌ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ, ๐ฃ๐ถ๐ต ๐ช๐ตโ๐ด ๐ด๐ฐ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ณ๐ฅ ๐ต๐ฐ ๐ฃ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ข๐ค๐ฉ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฐ๐ฑ๐ช๐ค.โ She cares, and sheโs afraid it will sound like judgment. That fear is part of why this is one of the hardest conversations in financial trauma. When 1 partner holds all the keys, the arrangement rarely looks like control. You can spend on the house, the kids, the holidays. Where the money is invested and how itโs earned stays with him, and youโre told not to worry about it. Often this mirrors how households ran in our parentsโ generation. The partner holding the keys usually believes theyโre being caring by taking it all on. This sits on a spectrum. At 1 end, money is withheld, accounts are hidden and asking carries fear. At the other, nobody has questioned the habit. The person inside experiences the same erosion either way. That care has a cost: practice. In 1 US survey, only 14% of the widowed had been making the financial decisions before their spouse died. Afterwards, 86% had to, starting at the moment of greatest grief. Then the shame arrives in 3 โshouldsโ: I should have known. I should have asked. I should have insisted. That is the self-blame spiral talking, the wrong verdict on someone never given the practice. To the partner holding the keys: bringing your partner into the numbers is more work and means changing how you do things. If you want to care for them during your life and after it, itโs the bridge. If youโre at the first end, safety comes before any financial step. Call your local domestic abuse helpline. (In Singapore, 1800-777-0000, open 24 hours.) To the friend or colleague who has noticed: you donโt need perfect words. Sending this post can start it for you. Choose a way thatโs safe for them, as a shared phone or account may show it. Something I hear when I talk about coaching: โ๐๐ฆ๐ต ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ค๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ค๐ฌ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ฎ๐บ ๐ฉ๐ถ๐ด๐ฃ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ง๐ช๐ณ๐ด๐ต.โ Anything that isnโt a necessity needs someone elseโs yes. If someone came to mind, send it their way. If itโs you, come find me. A hello is enough. Thereโs nothing to explain, pay for or decide. Message me, or email [address] if thatโs more private.
Capitalism / Neoliberalism
Of all the forms of financial trauma I work with, this one is the most pervasive, and the hardest to name as trauma at all. It doesnโt come from a single incident. Some might say, โ๐๐ตโ๐ด ๐ซ๐ถ๐ด๐ต ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ ๐ฆ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ฎ๐บ, ๐ด๐ต๐ถ๐ฑ๐ช๐ฅ.โ Thatโs the system most of us were raised inside, one that equates earning with worth, ownership with identity, and productivity with value as a human being. Itโs the water everyoneโs swimming in. Most people never get the words to question it, because thereโs no single moment to point to. Itโs also dehumanising. It pulls us apart in 3 ways, from each other and from ourselves, and the carousel names each one. Each is part of how the system works. The distinction I return to, with clients and with myself: your self-worth is not your net-worth. My work is cutting the link between them, so each can be built on its own, and you can be whole at any bank balance. This is not a personal failing. Itโs a system doing exactly what it was designed to do. A big topic, and this only touches it. If you want to read further: Edgar Villanueva, Decolonizing Wealth, on how colonisation ran on divide, control, exploit. Katrine Marรงal, Who Cooked Adam Smithโs Dinner?, on the unpaid work economics leaves out.
inherited/ nature
Immigrant Hustle Culture
That list on pg 2? These were survival instructions โ passed down in households with no margin for error, where the system offered no safety net and the cost of getting it wrong was too high to contemplate. For immigrant families navigating new countries, economic precarity, or the aftermath of displacement, these rules made complete sense. And they produced results. The persistence is real. It built security, opportunity, education โ footholds where there weren't any. But survival instructions don't come with an expiry date. What I see in practice, often in second-generation clients who have objectively built financial stability, is a nervous system still operating as if the original scarcity is present. The inability to spend without guilt. The compulsion to work past any rational need to. The hypervigilance that reads every financial decision as high stakes. The inability to pass up an opportunity โ because what if this is the last one. The discomfort asking for help, even when help is available and warranted. The floor is concrete and steel now. It is no longer wood and leaves. And still โ they can't quite trust it to hold. Frugality became identity. Vigilance became chronic. Persistence became an inability to stop. The rules that kept the family safe became the ceiling on what the next generation allows themselves to have, spend, enjoy, or rest in. This is inherited financial trauma. The original experience may not have been yours. But your nervous system absorbed the lesson โ and it's been running the numbers ever since.
Generational Debt
"๐ ๐ฅ๐ฐ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ช๐ด ๐ด๐ฐ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ท๐ฆ ๐ข ๐จ๐ฐ๐ฐ๐ฅ ๐ญ๐ช๐ง๐ฆ," I told my son. "๐๐ฉ๐บ ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ฏ ๐จ๐ช๐ท๐ฆ ๐ฎ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ช๐ง๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ฆ๐ฏ?" he shot back. I walked out of the conversation, boiling over inside. The ingratitude, I thought. In calmer reflection: what I actually wanted from him wasn't gratitude for its own sake. It was cooperation โ the give and take that comes from understanding the other person is making real sacrifices and effort, and meeting them halfway. That exchange was one step from tipping into a pattern I've seen play out in Chinese family dramas, and in the real lives of friends and clients: I did X so you could have Y. โ And because of that, you should Z. An unlimited, indefinite claim on future compliance, frequently dressed up as love and filial duty. A tale of two mothers. One gave generously. Funded a sibling's education, bought her own mother jewelry with an early paycheck, and never once brought it up again. Decades later, a much wealthier sibling didn't step up. That stung. What she eventually arrived at: I give what I can, and what I'm genuinely happy to give. I don't get to dictate what anyone else chooses to give in return. The other funded a child's education on one condition, set before that child was old enough to refuse it: you must take care of the family later. Not a specific request. A blanket claim on their future โ indefinite, open-ended, structurally unfulfillable, because the debt was never just a number. Filial duty built this way isn't a relationship. It's not something I'd ever want my own child to carry. What I want him to know instead: he is the result of the love of thousands, and I want that to land for him as support, as being lifted, as belief. Not as a noose โ an unpayable debt to the previous generation, where the account never closes.
Economic Displacement
This isn't a story about hustle, or building something from nothing by choice. Forced economic migration runs on both sides of my family โ leaving wasn't ambition. It was survival. My paternal grandfather worked construction โ manual labour. My father's family lived in a one-room kampong house, a family of ten. Even as a child, my father contributed however he could to help the household get through each day. My maternal grandmother left poverty in China with nothing โ no formal education, no real plan beyond survival. Neither side had room for long-term planning. Just: do your best, with whatever you have, today. That kind of scarcity doesn't stay contained to the generation that lived it. It resurfaces later as a fear that never fully settles, even in descendants who are, by every visible measure, secure. Sometimes it looks like fierce resourcefulness. Sometimes it looks like a grip on money that's difficult to loosen, long after the original need has passed. I was introduced to the emerging science on chronic stress and cognitive decline when I got certified as Southeast Asiaโs first The Trauma of Money Institute practitioner in 2022. Decades of scarcity don't just shape behaviour. They shape the brain itself which governs our conscious and unconscious money choices. And something clicked - my beloved and recently-deceased grandmother brought my family food every weekend in my schooling years. She lived with scarcity fear her whole life, and with dementia in her final decade. I didn't live what my grandparents lived. But growing up close to it left an imprint I can feel in my bones. Epigenetics, yโall. Where does this kind of inherited resourcefulness โ or the fear underneath it โ show up in your own family history?
Modeling Our Parents
A story of 2 parents, composed from the many versions of these stories I've heard over the years in practice. A parent who gambled teaches their children something, without ever intending to. Many days without enough for the necessities. Loan sharks at the door. Then a large payday, and the cycle starts again. Children who grow up inside this pattern don't all turn out the same way. Some become wary of any uncertainty at all, hoarding, over-cautious, choosing security over almost everything. Others grow up strangely comfortable with risk, and go on to become calculated risk-takers themselves, sometimes in business, sometimes at the market. An over-giving parent, often the eldest daughter in the family, teaches something different. She becomes the one who rescues everyone, respected for it, relied upon for it. Money moves through her hands and rarely stays, because someone always needs it more than she does. When she eventually sets a boundary, after years of this pattern, the people she's been supporting rarely respond with gratitude. They push back, sometimes forcefully, because her independence threatens an arrangement they'd grown accustomed to. Even if you don't recognise a parent like either of these, what stories did your parents teach you about money, whether or not they meant to teach them? Are you repeating the cycle, or breaking it? Healing what you inherited is what actually gives you the choice.
Siblings
This is more common than most families admit. I've seen it close to home and in my work: people raised in the same home, now living in completely different financial worlds. It rarely stays a private matter, because money differences between siblings turn into roles. The one who โ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญโ is expected to lend, to fund, to pick up the bill. They're watched, sometimes resented. Itโs lonely in a specific way - those closest to them also need something from them. The one who didnโt โ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ญ๐ญโ holds a role too: at family gatherings, at weddings, at school, the one whose news is smaller than everyone else's. Both roles carry shame. The first sibling feels the tightening before a family dinner, working out what will be asked. The other sibling feels the shrinking before a wedding, working out what to say about their year. Then the next generation takes it over. Children notice the different houses, holidays and schools of their cousins. How do you explain to your kids why their cousins have what they don't, or why yours have what theirs don't? I don't have a tidy answer, and sweeping ones like โ๐ฃ๐ข๐ฅ ๐ข๐ต ๐ด๐ต๐ถ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฆ๐ดโ or โ๐ฅ๐ช๐ฅ๐ฏโ๐ต ๐ธ๐ฐ๐ณ๐ฌ ๐ฉ๐ข๐ณ๐ฅ ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฐ๐ถ๐จ๐ฉโ compound that divide. If this is your family, which side of the gap are you on?