The coat had been one of those heart-pounding purchases that made you want the item despite the anguish of the price. But I couldn’t resist. It was a wool coat in baby blue, my favorite color. I had to have it.
But fortunately, I didn’t have to make a sneaky transaction by hiding the coat in the back of the closet and hoping the cost wouldn’t be discovered when it left my bank account.
And when my husband Martin saw me using it and asked the classic “how much did that cost?”, it was my choice whether or not to tell how much I had spent.
Angela, with her husband Martin, says that having separate accounts also has emotional benefits for a marriage.
I haven’t spoken out about it. After all, it’s my money. Why shouldn’t I splurge once in a while? That’s the joy of having separate accounts, which we’ve had throughout our 33 years of marriage. And there are no plans to change the status quo.
Of course, since Martin is a CPA, I have always trusted him with making decisions related to our financial well-being, such as choosing mortgage lenders, home insurance policies, and emergency plumbing.
Martin has spent over 35 years looking after other people’s finances and worked at one of the largest accounting firms in the country before setting out on his own. We, as a family, can reap the benefits of his knowledge without having to share a joint account.
Although I trust Martin completely in these matters, I have never wanted us to have some sort of common pot into which to deposit our joint income, even though he is the one who earns the most by far. On the other hand, I absolutely refuse to allow him to exercise any direct control over the money I earn. And I have no say in his income.
This isn’t about being afraid that Martin will seize my hard-earned money to pay for his (admittedly expensive) bike repair (more on that later). Rather, it means that we have an agreement on the contributions we make toward joint needs while exercising financial independence over the rest.
So since he’s the biggest earner, Martin pays the mortgage and has worked out an amount that I pay him via standing order each month.
As for household bills, we divide and conquer. Martin takes care of all the boring utilities, like water, electricity and gas.
With his forensic accountant’s eye, he seems better equipped for the arduous task of finding the best deals. I take care of the more mundane household expenses, such as food bills, as I usually do the cooking. I also take care of treats and holidays and all my own expenses, including car expenses. Although Martin and I are happy with separate accounts, some friends and colleagues see it almost as a tacit admission that there is a fault in the marriage. They believe it demonstrates a breakdown of trust, and there is research to back this up.
Scientists at Indiana University’s Kelley School of Business have found that married couples who have joint bank accounts not only have better relationships, but also fight less about money and feel better about how their household finances are managed.
However, our arrangement has served to improve domestic harmony, and among the things couples may argue about, money has not been one of them. Especially because of the many advantages of our arrangement. For example, there are no hard feelings when one partner decides to indulge in shopping splurges, as long as they fulfill their share of the joint financial obligations.
Take the fact that Martin is a very keen cyclist. At one point he had five bikes in the garage, despite only having one on the bottom. He also bought a £2000 Peloton exercise bike. Do I care how much he spends on his hobbies, given that the cost of mine is much more modest (I have an outdoor bike, no gadgets, and do a couple of weekly exercise classes)?
Frankly, and this is something friends who have joint accounts have a hard time understanding, it’s his money. He works long hours for every penny he earns. So as long as we have a roof over our heads, the power hasn’t been cut off, and there are no bailiffs at the door, what does it matter?
In fact, my biggest objection is Martin cranking the volume on the Peloton to deafening levels while he’s getting ready for a class. Sometimes, there’s no escaping the braying of some hyper-instructor bellowing over an Abba soundtrack. Likewise, I don’t hold him to account for how I choose to spend my money. This is handy when, yet again, I have to fork out a few hundred pounds after punching the wing mirror of my car (Him: “Again?” Me: “Nobody’s asking you to pay for it”) or if I decide we need a holiday and go ahead and book flights.
When our son, due to his poor punctuality, missed the train to a university open day, I had to pay a whopping £70 for another ticket at the station. I didn’t tell his father so as to avoid the added headache of Martin angrily and repeatedly asking him why our son had been so careless.
We have mirror wills (two wills drafted by both of us) in which each of us names ourselves as the primary beneficiary. Once again, proof of the egalitarian ethos underscores our divided finances.
Martin pays the mortgage and has calculated an amount that I pay him via standing order each month.
Having separate accounts also has emotional benefits for a marriage, as it means you can buy gifts or plan surprises without the other half knowing.
Martin has a special birthday coming up and I can plan what to buy him and finance how we will celebrate as a family.
Having separate accounts was a perfect extension of how we both started our marriage in 1990, with neither of us seeing the need to change the status quo.
We were never good at sharing. For example, after we moved in, the agreement was that since I got home from work before him, I would cook and he would clean up afterward.
This became an increasing point of conflict as Martin spent all night doing the dishes. This all changed when, one day, he came home from work with a dishwasher in the back of his car. “There you go,” he proclaimed with a graceful flourish. “No need to insist any longer.” And he was right. A simple, non-argumentative purchase made with his own money provided the perfect route back to domestic harmony.
I should add that having a separate account is not a fierce defence of a consolidated independence, nor is it a lack of trust. In fact, it should be noted that for some women there is a huge risk in merging their money with that of their spouse.
One in six women in the UK has experienced financial abuse from a current or former partner, according to charity Surviving Economic Abuse, and this could include restricted access to money.
This is a particularly difficult question for those who only have one joint bank account in their name. Therefore, it is a decision that must reflect a solid and trusting dynamic.
Will my children, two of whom are married, follow suit? That is for them to decide. The good news is that there is an alternative to joint accounts. That is a joint decision.
How do you and your partner manage your joint finances? Tell us at moneymail@dailymail.co.uk
Some links in this article may be affiliate links. If you click on them we may earn a small commission. This helps us fund This Is Money and keep it free to use. We do not write articles to promote products. We do not allow any commercial relationships to affect our editorial independence.
