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Frustrations With My Honey About Money

"My partner's attitude toward money is driving me crazy!"

How many of you have thought that? I certainly have. Nearly all conflict starts because we don't understand each other. It used to be that any time I proposed spending money on something, my husband's first question would be "How much does it cost?"

That would immediately put me on the defensive. Raised by a workaholic dad who held tightly to the purse strings, I grew to hate asking my dad for money.

While dad had many fine qualities, he never educated me about financial matters other than to insist that I open a savings account. (I'm thankful for that lesson - it has helped!) As was common for his generation, he was extremely private about financial matters. It wasn't until he was 74, when he was in Stage 2 of Alzheimer's Disease, that dad finally had to let me take over his personal finances.

Talking to any adult male, even my husband, about money, I automatically felt in a one-down position.

Hence, my husband's question, "How much does it cost?" signaled a lot more than the actual price of whatever I wanted to purchase.

His question triggered my guilt and fear, passed on inadvertently from my mom, who frequently worried that we would run out of the basic necessities. Living through the horrors of WWII, the 6th child (of 7), she knew the angst of hunger and death. But even though she now has enough, she still worries about running out.

I've struggled with guilt over buying things that I don't need. I hate feeling like I have to justify spending money. Those feelings would show up in my answers: I'd mimic his question in a mocking voice, or I'd say something demeaning like, "Since when did stinginess become a virtue?" None of which answered the question, or scored me any points.

I was reacting, and so was he. I felt angry, and anxious because I felt like I was still having to ask for permission. In turn, he wanted to make sure that we were getting the most for our money. His upbringing was full of scarcity: a father who as a civil engineer, worked in other countries for months on end ; a mother who had to make ends meet with the paychecks he'd send home. She fell into depression when left to care for two youngsters on her own. His parents maintained little contact with extended family. There were no "play dates" or "sleepovers", or birthday parties since his family didn't celebrate those. There was no anticipation of gifts at Christmas time, since his dad didn't believe in it.

How did we learn these things about each other? In the safety of the Couples Dialogue, as we took turns "going over the bridge" to the other's world. As we took turns, time after time, hearing the other describe beliefs, attitudes, and experiences, he and I became more and more compassionate for each other. There have been tears, anger, and hurt, but also laughter, healing and freedom as we have discovered the other's hot buttons, as well as the other's deepest needs.

Now, when Theo asks, "How much does it cost?" more and more, I can look at him with a trusting smile and say, "$59.95, and if you can find a better deal, I'm all for it." More and more often, he doesn't ask. He trusts.

• last updated: 2009.05.26
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