Sonia Skewes, Integrative Financial Therapist and Money Trauma Specialist, with hands on a djembe drum, representing the rhythm, embodiment, and grounded presence she brings to trauma-informed healing work in Penguin Tasmania

The World’s First Trillionaire?

Perhaps We’re Asking the Wrong Question Imagine standing on a beach, watching the horizon. No matter how far you walk, it never gets closer. For many of us, enoughness feels exactly like that. We tell ourselves that when we earn a little more, achieve a little more, accomplish a little more, we’ll finally arrive. We’ll […]

Perhaps We’re Asking the Wrong Question

Imagine standing on a beach, watching the horizon.

No matter how far you walk, it never gets closer.

For many of us, enoughness feels exactly like that. We tell ourselves that when we earn a little more, achieve a little more, accomplish a little more, we’ll finally arrive. We’ll feel secure. Successful. Worthy. And then the goalpost moves again.

This week, financial history was made. Forbes declared Elon Musk the world’s first trillionaire, estimating his net worth at approximately US$1.1 trillion following the public listing of SpaceX. It’s a staggering figure, almost impossible for most of us to comprehend.

And yet, watching the headlines roll in, I found myself less interested in the number and more curious about the question underneath it.

How much is enough?

And why do so many of us struggle to answer that, regardless of what’s in our bank account?

The number that broke our brains

A million dollars once sounded unimaginable. Then came billionaires. Now we’re talking about trillions. The scale is genuinely beyond most human comprehension.

The reactions were predictable, fascination, admiration, criticism, disbelief, curiosity. But beneath all of them sits something deeply human. We’re drawn to stories about extraordinary wealth because wealth tends to represent things we all want: freedom, security, opportunity, choice, safety. The assumption is simple, more money equals more of those things.

And to a point, that’s true. Money can reduce stress, create options, and improve quality of life. But there comes a point where the conversation shifts. It stops being about survival and starts becoming about identity.

When success becomes a search for worth

Most of us begin pursuing goals for practical reasons. We want to support ourselves, care for our families, build something that matters. But somewhere along the way, many of us unconsciously attach self-worth to achievement. The question quietly changes from “do I have enough?” to “am I enough?”

Am I successful enough? Respected enough? Productive enough? Important enough?

The problem is that achievement was never designed to answer those questions. No external accomplishment can permanently settle an internal uncertainty. Not a promotion. Not a bestselling book. Not a larger house. Not a million dollars, a billion dollars, or even a trillion dollars. Because enoughness isn’t something we achieve. It’s something we believe.

The trap of arrival

One of the most powerful myths we carry is that life begins after the next milestone. When I get the promotion. When I buy the house. When I lose the weight. When I become successful. Then I’ll finally relax. Then I’ll finally feel secure. Then I’ll finally feel enough.

The trouble is enoughness doesn’t work that way. The horizon keeps moving. What once felt extraordinary eventually becomes ordinary. The dream job becomes your job. The new house becomes your house. The achievement becomes yesterday’s achievement. And so we set a new target, just a little further away.

Enoughness asks us to stop chasing the horizon long enough to notice where we already stand.

Elon Musk and the mirror he holds up

Whether you admire him or not, his story highlights something universal. Human beings are builders, creators, innovators, dreamers. We’re wired to imagine possibilities and pursue them. Ambition isn’t the problem. Ambition can be one of humanity’s greatest strengths.

The question isn’t whether we should strive. It’s whether our striving comes from inspiration or insecurity. Are we creating because we have something meaningful to contribute, or because we’re trying to prove our worth? One path tends to generate genuine fulfilment. The other tends to create an endless hunger for more. The distinction matters more than most of us realise.

The difference between wealth and worth

Modern life often blurs the line between success and value. We celebrate achievement, reward productivity, admire financial success. None of those things are inherently wrong. The problem begins when we confuse net worth with self-worth.

Because if worth depends on achievement, there is never enough achievement. If worth depends on money, there is never enough money. If worth depends on recognition, there is never enough recognition. The goalposts never stop moving.

Enoughness offers something different. Your work has value. Your achievements have value. Your contributions have value. But your worth existed before all of them, and it remains after all of them.

The wealth we rarely talk about

There’s another kind of wealth that never makes headlines. You won’t find it on a rich list. You can’t measure it in dollars. And yet it shapes the quality of our lives more than most financial milestones ever could.

The wealth of feeling safe enough. The wealth of feeling good enough. The wealth of feeling worthy enough.

These forms of wealth influence how we show up in relationships, how we navigate setbacks, how we pursue opportunities, and how we experience success when it arrives. Without them, no amount of external achievement feels like enough. With them, we can enjoy our accomplishments without needing them to define us.

This doesn’t mean money doesn’t matter, of course it does. Financial security can reduce stress, create options, and improve wellbeing. But emotional security and self-worth operate in a different currency. One can be accumulated. The other must be cultivated.

And while the world’s first trillionaire may represent the outer limits of financial success, each of us is still sitting with a much more personal question: how rich do I feel on the inside?

Why more can feel so complicated

One of the assumptions often made about money is that everyone simply wants more of it. Yet many people have a surprisingly complex relationship with receiving.

More money can mean more visibility, more responsibility, more expectations, more pressure. For some, particularly those who grew up around financial stress, conflict, criticism, or scarcity, more doesn’t automatically feel safer. It can feel heavier.

The nervous system doesn’t always respond to money based on logic alone. It responds to the meanings we’ve attached to it over time. What if earning more means people expect more from me? What if success changes my relationships? What if I still don’t feel enough once I get there?

These questions often sit quietly beneath the surface of our financial lives, which is exactly why enoughness matters so much. The goal isn’t simply to accumulate more. It’s to create enough internal safety that success, opportunity, and abundance no longer feel threatening when they arrive.

Beyond net worth

The more I sit with this, the more I realise the conversation was never really about Elon Musk. It’s about us. It’s about the stories we tell ourselves about success, the promises we attach to achievement, the belief that one more milestone will finally deliver the feeling we’ve been searching for.

Enoughness asks a different question. What if the thing we’re searching for can’t be found on the other side of more? What if it’s been available all along? What if being enough was never dependent on what we achieve, own, earn, or accumulate? What if it begins the moment we stop outsourcing our worth to external measures of success?

Perhaps we’ve been asking the wrong question

History was made this week. For the first time, a person crossed a financial threshold that once seemed unimaginable. The headlines focused on the number. The markets analysed it. Commentators debated what it means for society.

But perhaps the more important milestone is one that never appears on a rich list. The moment someone stops measuring their value by what they earn, own, achieve, or accomplish. The moment they realise that enoughness isn’t a destination waiting at the end of success. It’s a truth available right now.

Enoughness doesn’t only shape how we relate to money. It also shapes how we relate to visibility, opportunity, and our willingness to step into our full potential. I’ve explored that idea further in my article, “Why Kylie Minogue’s ‘Why Can’t I Do Both?’ Moment Is a Lesson in Enoughness.”

Because enoughness was never a number. Not at one million. Not at one billion. Not at one trillion. Enoughness is the moment we stop chasing our worth and start living from it. And perhaps that is the greatest wealth of all.