Why the f*ck are relationships and money such a bloody minefield. – The Curve

Why the f*ck are relationships and money such a bloody minefield.

 

I always advise other women to split bills and make sure to protect their assets with a pre-nup, so why do I feel kind of gutted when my boyfriend wants to take those steps with me?

I left work yesterday afternoon with a pep in my step. I'd just found out that Vic (my business partner at The Curve) and I will be able to give ourselves a pay rise in six months, and I wanted to celebrate with my boyfriend over a glass of sangria and a mushroom croquet in the late afternoon sunshine.

We sat down and I said "this one's on me". He has just arrived in London and is looking for a job, so is (sensibly) trying to minimise spending. That's why, knowing he'd strategically eaten his ravioli at home, I made it clear that this was my shout.

Sixth Love Language.

Offering to pay feels like the sixth love language which never gets a mention. I get a huge amount of joy from being generous when I can. To me, it’s a way to show someone how much I love them.

I told him my good news about the pay rise, we cheers-ed, and he reminded me that it hadn’t actually happened yet. As someone who hardly ever celebrates the small wins, I'd thought a pay rise – even a pending one – was reason to celebrate.

Should We Split The Bill?

What started off as a really lovely conversation, quickly got uncomfortable. For context, he recently joined Monzo and has been quite excited about the"split bill" function. On Friday night at 3am we got an Uber home from the most fun bar I have ever been to and the ride home cost £21. I paid and he suggested I split the cost with him. Thoughtful, lovely, great.

However after the weekend I felt weird about requesting £10.50 via the Monzo app. It felt kind of petty, and the opposite of romantic. I had listened to a podcast recently where the hosts were fake vomiting at the idea of a joint account, as if it instantly turns a relationship into a practical, boring, business-style partnership. That spiralled me into anxiety. Should we be splitting bills? Or will it kill the romance?

I brought this up with my boyfriend, saying it felt a little unromantic. I couldn’t articulate myself properly, but all of a sudden I wondered if I was skipping a million relationship steps by creating a joint account for things like Ubers, groceries, coffees.

The Irony Of It All. 

I do need to point out how ironic this whole situation is. As someone who runs a financial female empowerment business built on the idea of equality – I realise this awkwardness around financial equality is a weird thing to admit.

At The Curve, for the past three years, I have been a passionate advocate for the idea that talking about money, splitting bills and getting on the same financial page is imperative to keeping your independence, and is good for the relationship too. Yet here I was wondering if in fact it was a terrible idea? What was going on?

I have been in countless podcast conversations and read a million blogs about how important it is to quash this notion that everything within a relationship must be romantic. Money is a business conversation, and we do ourselves (particularly as women), a giant disservice by trying to make it anything but. So why when he said "you don’t need to overthink splitting bills" did it send me into such a tail spin?

What’s Next? 

The conversation evolved and eventually he said that if we got married we would be getting a prenup. That I wouldn’t be getting anywhere near his money. You might be thinking "brutal". Exactly what I thought at that moment.

But then I had to catch myself and admit that if it were me saying the same thing to him, or if it were a friend asking her future husband for a prenup – I would be cheering her on from the sidelines. I would be proud – so why in this instance did I feel so taken aback? Why did I feel like it was unloving? As though he must not really care about me?

I have been bingeing Bridgeton over the past few weeks, and it has been blowing my MIND the way in which women used to have such a passive role when it came to both relationships and money. To watch these beautiful women awkwardly standing on the dance floor with their dance cards waiting for someone to write their name down, is bizarre.

We have been told literally and metaphorically, to wait for men to come to us. To be patient, and let him decide if we are worthy of a dance. Or marriage. And in turn – financial security.

At the moment my boyfriend said "we would be getting a pre-nup" I felt so alone. I went silent and I was upset but I also knew it wasn’t how I wanted to feel.

Is There A Clear Answer?

I don’t have a conclusion for this, it’s still something we are navigating, but I guess I wanted to acknowledge all the times I have said things on our podcast like ‘you need a prenup’ or ‘we earn our own money and we should be independent’, sometimes it’s not that straight forward. And sometimes money can be really emotional. It’s not always easy practising what you preach. I found myself feeling sad and confused leaving his place as I cried on the side of the road.

I should be grateful he wants to split bills, and that he wants us each to stand on our own two feet financially. But I couldn't help feeling rejected and sad. There is no one-size-fits-all when it comes to how we should split, or manage finances within relationships, but I wish everyone was more open about it.

Am I a bad feminist because I occasionally like my bf paying for a coffee and a croissant? Or for wanting to treat him without needing to ask him to transfer me back? Is it problematic that on one hand I want to split Ubers and share costs, but on the other hand I want us to operate with a more ad-hoc spontaneous mentality’?

I’d love to hear from anyone who feels good about the way they deal with finances with their partner, and I want to validate anyone who wants to be a strong independent women, but sometimes revert back to what we have been told for generations - that men look after us, and they love us if they pay for things.

 

Got a story you'd like to share?

We'd love to hear from you! Send us your story.