Skip to main content

A Man Without Peace, Money, and Confidence Will Take Yours

There’s a phrase I once stumbled upon: “A man without peace, money, and confidence will take yours.” At first, it sounded like one of those clever online snippets. But the more I thought about it, the more I saw its truth playing out in everyday life — in matatus, in relationships, in workplaces, and in families.

The Man Without Peace

Peace is not just the absence of war; it’s the ability to live with yourself without projecting your chaos onto others. A man who has no inner peace will disrupt yours. He will pick fights over small issues, stir unnecessary drama, and leave you feeling drained after every encounter.

Think of the man who calls you ten times an hour, accusing you of things you haven’t done. Or the friend who is always restless, never content, constantly pulling you into his unresolved battles. His lack of stillness becomes your storm.

The Man Without Money

Money doesn’t define a person’s worth, but in its absence, especially where there is entitlement, it often becomes a weapon. A man without money may depend on you to fund his lifestyle, borrow without returning, or block your progress because your financial independence threatens him.

We see this in relationships where women carry the financial weight while being made to feel guilty for earning more. Or in families where siblings must sacrifice their own growth to constantly bail out one person who refuses to face their own responsibilities.

It’s not the lack of money that hurts most; it’s the drain of carrying someone else’s financial burden when they refuse to carry their own.

The Man Without Confidence

Confidence is quiet. Insecurity, on the other hand, is loud. A man lacking confidence doesn’t just doubt himself — he chips away at you. Instead of celebrating your wins, he belittles them. Instead of building with you, he competes against you.

Picture the boss who feels threatened by a young, capable employee and so makes their work environment unbearable. Or the partner who dismisses your achievements, saying things like “that’s nothing, anyone could do it.” His lack of confidence pushes him to make you smaller, so he can feel bigger.

The Unseen Thread

These three deficits — peace, money, confidence — rarely remain private. They leak into relationships, workplaces, and communities. And the cost is often borne by those closest to the man.

And this is not just about romantic relationships. It’s about colleagues, friends, relatives, even leaders. When people have not done the work to cultivate stability, they come for yours — consciously or unconsciously.

Why Do We Normalize This?

Part of the problem is cultural conditioning. Many women are raised to “endure,” to “support,” and to “rescue.” Many men are raised to believe their shortcomings should be carried by someone else. Society rewards imbalance — and so the cycle repeats.

But imbalance is costly. Peace, money, and confidence are currencies that every adult must earn for themselves. Handing them over means robbing yourself to sustain someone else’s lack.

The Warning and the Way Forward

This is not to say people must come into our lives perfect. No one is perfect. But there’s a difference between growing together and being drained by someone unwilling to grow.

The warning is simple: don’t hand over what another person refuses to build. Protect your peace. Guard your resources. Defend your confidence.

Because a man without these things will take yours.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Daniel Arap Moi — The Shadow and the Shepherd: A Deep Dive into Kenya’s Second President

If Jomo Kenyatta was the founding father, Daniel Toroitich Arap Moi was the long-reigning stepfather — sometimes protective, often punitive, and almost always enigmatic. He ruled Kenya for 24 years, the longest of any president to date. To some, he was the gentle teacher, Mwalimu , who kept the nation from tearing apart. To others, he was the architect of a surveillance state, a master of patronage and fear, the man who perfected repression through calm. This is a portrait of Daniel Arap Moi — not just as a ruler, but as a man shaped by modest beginnings, colonial violence, and the hunger for order in a chaotic time. Early Life: The Boy from Sacho Daniel Arap Moi was born on September 2, 1924, in Kurieng’wo, Baringo, in Kenya’s Rift Valley. He came from the Tugen sub-group of the Kalenjin community. His father died when he was just four. Raised by his uncle, Moi’s early life was marked by hardship, discipline, and deep Christian missionary influence. He trained as a teacher at Tambach ...

Not All Disabilities Are Visible

Some pain does not leave a mark. Some exhaustion does not show in the face. Some people are carrying weights that have no name, no diagnosis, and no outward sign. We are used to recognizing suffering only when it can be pointed to — a bandage, a crutch, a cast, a wound. Something we can see. But the human interior is its own world, and often, the heaviest struggles live there. The Quiet Work of Holding Yourself Together There are those who walk into a room smiling, contributing, present — and yet they are holding themselves together one breath at a time. Not because they are pretending, but because they have learned to live with what would overwhelm another person. Some battles are fought inside the mind: The slow grey of depression The relentless hum of anxiety The sudden, unbidden memory that takes the body back to a place it never wants to return The deep fatigue that sleep does not cure And yet, life continues. The world moves. The dishes still need to be wa...

Know Thyself: The Quiet Power of Naming Your Nature

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” — Carl Jung We live in a culture that equates good intentions with goodness, and ambition with ability. But very few people in Kenya—or anywhere—truly know what they are made of. We can name our qualifications and our dreams. But ask someone their vices or virtues, and they hesitate. Worse, they lie. The Danger of Self-Unawareness In Kenya today, many of us are wandering through life making choices—big, small, and irreversible—without truly understanding who we are. We end up in jobs we despise, relationships we shouldn’t be in, or positions of influence we aren’t emotionally or ethically equipped for. And at the root of this dysfunction is a simple truth: we don’t know ourselves. This is not a spiritual or abstract dilemma. It’s a deeply practical one. To know oneself is to understand your vices, your virtues, your weaknesses, and your strengths—not in a vague sense, but in detail. Let’s ge...