For generations, Black success has been viewed through a distorted lens – one not crafted by us. We often find ourselves fighting not just for wealth, but for validation in a society that historically shut us out. This can lead to what W.E.B. Du Bois called a double consciousness: a sense of “always looking at one’s self through the eyes of others” . In terms of wealth, that means we start measuring our success by the standards of a world that once looked down on us. Think about it: My house in the nice neighborhood, my Ivy League degree, my cushy corporate job with a fancy title – all fantastic achievements, but was I chasing them because I value them, or because I’ve been told they’re the ticket to being respected?
To be clear, there’s nothing wrong with a nice home or education – we deserve all that and more. The key is why we seek these things. A colonized mindset (shaped by centuries of being told we were inferior) might drive us to accumulate symbols of status just to prove, “Hey, I’m as good as you. I belong.” But what if we flip that? Decolonizing our wealth mindset means peeling away the need for outside approval. It means reclaiming the right to define wealth and success on our own terms, rooted in our values and well-being. We don’t have to play by the old rules that said only a certain kind of (white, old-money) wealth is legitimate. We can create new rules for ourselves.
Maybe your vision of success is owning a business that serves your community, even if it’s not a Fortune 500 company. Maybe it’s choosing to invest in a historically Black neighborhood instead of a condo in a posh district where you’re the only person of color on the block. It could be prioritizing financial freedom and family over chasing an endless corporate ladder. There is a quiet revolution in saying: I’m going to live rich in a way that makes me fulfilled, whether or not it fits the mainstream script. That’s liberation. That’s decolonizing your mind and your money.
Of course, this is easier said than done. The pull of validation is strong. I’ve felt it – that subtle (or not so subtle) voice that asks, “What will they think?” whenever I make a big life choice. But each time I center my decisions around what genuinely aligns with my purpose and my community’s needs, I feel a weight lift. It’s like breaking an invisible chain. New Money as a fragrance is a small rebellion in that sense. It’s not a perfume made to impress in a boardroom or a nightclub with loud notes. It’s a personal scent made to remind me (and those like me) that our journey is our own. Wearing it feels like an act of self-definition – a scent that says I’m living on my terms. It’s a daily practice of mental decolonization: each inhale reinforces that I am not living to be approved by “the eyes of others,” but to meet my own standards of worth and wealth.
The Black Negotiator 