Money is potentially the hardest topic couples face. Or don’t face. Of the causes that come up most often for divorce, money often ranks in the top three. According to Psychology Today, “Many couples have different relationships with money. This usually comes down to differing or conflicting attitudes toward earning, spending, saving, and sharing (charity).” 

Whether you live paycheck to paycheck or “come from money,” money affects the way you move through the world. Not having enough causes psychic stress that permeates the skin and finds its way into the blood stream of even the most diligent money manager. And even if you have it, money can lead to poor decision-making. Money makes people lie. Money causes resentment and shame, sometimes at the same time. Money comes with a history we didn’t create and we can’t seem to shake. It influences our belief systems, our biases, our values, even our potential, not just as earners but as people in the world.  

As a highly educated, 54-year-old divorced woman with no children, you might be surprised to learn how stacked the odds are against me building wealth or ever arriving at “comfortable.” Did I mention I’m an art teacher? Yes. And. I grew up in a firmly working class household in a middle class neighborhood in the 70s and 80s. I lived in the basement apartment of my grandparent’s house when all my friends had standard homes. I shopped for my clothes at the flea market. I started working summer jobs at 13 while my friends were at camp. And the constant mantra of “we can’t afford it” was baked into my brain like a coin in a Vasilopita, the gift that keeps on giving. And by giving I mean robbing. 

The psychic energy that made up my money mindset followed me everywhere like a duckling who’d imprinted on me. It robbed me of opportunities. For instance, I never learned to ski, because the one time I was invited by the coolest girl in the class to go on the epic annual high school ski trip, I was told skiing was too expensive and I had to tell her I couldn’t go. I never got asked again.

Money robbed me of my self-worth. When I changed careers at thirty-seven, I was bullied into taking a $20k pay cut from my prior graphic design career because my working class ass was convinced I had to start at the bottom again. Being a woman did not help my cause.

I’m not complaining. In fact, I’ve been afforded many opportunities, to study, to travel, over my lifetime of learning and striving to be better. And of the great deal of work I’ve done on myself, changing my money mindset has been a big, though recent, part. I have finally accepted that despite all odds, I single-handedly raised myself into a tax bracket well above my parents. I am not poor! I can manage my finances smartly! I can make choices and live a decent life and not have to struggle to survive in the same way my family did. Most importantly, I deserve to enjoy my life, not spend it in a studio apartment scrimping and saving until I’m dead.

All this abundance-mindset-having (honed during the Covid lockdown) really started to pay off for me. Among other things, I’m thrilled to be in partnership again after a difficult, five-year hiatus. Said partner is perfect for me and I for her in ways I needed to get to 50-something to understand. And yet, there is a financial disparity between us. 

Perhaps because I’m a grown-ass woman, or perhaps because I’m in a lesbian relationship, we began our courtship splitting everything 50/50. Fair, right? I thought so. Until the mental stress of moving this to do that and that to do this began causing a strain on my wallet and on our idyllic companionship.

But because we’re 50 (50 is the new 30 if you haven’t heard), we decided to tackle it head on and not let it fester and break us up down the road. We’re in month five and have already had some difficult conversations. We Googled articles about financial disparity in partnership, and have begun to establish a plan. Here are some of the difficulties I’ve been facing:

1. Food is expensive. My $500/month budget hasn’t been cutting it with all our dining out and extra grocery shopping.
2. Entertainment like going to a show or seeing a concert used to be a rare treat for me, and I don’t have a budget for it.
3. Travel is something I very much enjoy. I have charged travel expenses to a credit card and sometimes even borrowed against my emergency fund (yes, I have one and you need one, too), but this can be a slippery slope.

Things we’ve come up with so far to limit stress and confusion on both our parts:

1. We will limit dining out costs and cook at home more often.
2. We will each contribute a fixed amount to a monthly spending fund, capping our food and entertainment costs. Contributions will reflect our respective earnings.
3. We will carefully consider travel expenditures, I will re-evaluate up to what amount per year I’m willing to pay off in travel costs, and we will consider contributing the same percentage of our take-home pay to trips we take together.
4. We will check in at least bi-monthly to make sure all is well in the pocketbooks and revise our plan when necessary.

What’s your money mindset? How has money challenged you and your relationships and what’s one step you can take to make it better?