Why am I only getting smart with money at 34? It probably has something to do with the fact that I lost two years of my life to a serious illness, during which I went, overnight, from being the main breadwinner of the family to being virtually unemployed, earning around five percent of my usual salary.
At our lowest point, it looked like Ryan and I might lose the house we had spent seven years making our family home. When you’ve faced the prospect of losing everything you’ve worked for, it’s a big wake-up call.
But still, why wasn’t I smart with money before going through this trauma? The truth is that I was on a hamster wheel: I lived day by day, never looking forward or back. I had no strategy; I certainly wasn’t one of those people who made a ten-year plan (or even a two-year one).
We were comfortable – and I know what a privilege that is – but money came and went. I used to spend £1,000 on a Net-A-Porter order and then leave things in the till because I didn’t have time to return them. (I now use circular fashion sites for extra income and sell things on Depop.) I guess I earned more than I spent, but I rarely checked my bank balance. I guess I was too busy getting caught up in the social media vortex of being an influencer and creating content to really notice the paychecks. Then I almost died giving birth and everything stopped.
Two life-threatening hemorrhages and the post-traumatic stress disorder that followed changed all my relationships. I’ve written in this column before about how trauma affected my bond with my mother and nearly ended my relationship with Ryan (an entirely different column for another day, I’m sure). But one relationship I really didn’t expect my illness to affect is the one I have with my money.
Although I hadn’t been paying attention to my day-to-day expenses, I have always been a saver. As a child, I happily kept a year’s worth of pocket money in pound coins in my little piggy bank (which I actually still have because I’m also a hoarder, are you starting to see the pattern?) to treat myself.
This habit continued into adulthood, but I didn’t really know what I was saving for. I wasn’t working toward a big vacation or home improvement; the money just sat there, and not even in any sensible high-interest account.
When I was still seriously ill in the hospital, I remember looking at my savings account and thinking: what for?! I might have had a million pounds there (I didn’t, by the way), but what good would it do me if I were dead?
I can remember an overwhelming feeling that I needed to take my entire family on a massive vacation the moment I left the hospital. I also had a strong desire to get married. Why not spend all my money on a big lavish party? Then I got sicker, this time mentally, with PTSD, and the idea of planning anything became irrelevant.
Louise and Ryan on the terrace of their house in London
Thank God I didn’t ruin it all because, in the end, my entire life of saving kept a roof over our heads.
I’m self-employed, so I hadn’t planned on taking much maternity leave before starting to work again, then suddenly I was too sick to work, and while I was in the hospital, Ryan became the sole breadwinner at night. in the morning. She also had to take care of me and our new baby, which left little room to build her own career.
It was then that I realized the implications of both of us being self-employed; not so much for me because, at that time, I was so unwell that I didn’t really understand what was happening around us.
But Ryan did and he was really worried about our finances. He was given this huge responsibility and took on all the stress alone, which severely affected his mental health. By nature he is a doer and a fixer. Suddenly he couldn’t help me anymore, but he also had to take care of making all the payments. He never told me, “I need to use your bank card,” and he protected me from money worries, but I don’t think the fear has completely left him. I’ve come out the other side, but he still feels like his time has been stolen when there are so many thriving in their careers.
Our worst moment was when we came very close to having to sell the house that Ryan and I had worked hard to make into a home. Moving house is challenging at the best of times, but if we had been forced to move right after giving birth, that would be unthinkable. (I say this with the utmost respect because I know someone who had to do just that.)
I was eventually able to remortgage, but at a time when interest rates were at their highest point in years, our mortgage rate rose from 2.65 per cent to 7.1 per cent, which has been a bitter pill to swallow. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been so unwell and couldn’t work. At this point, I’m grateful to have managed to be close to my family; I still live next door to my brother Sam, and having them around has been essential to my recovery.
I know that I have been lucky to grow up with privilege and to have had a well-paying job. But I also nearly lost everything, and it took me a pretty big self-development phase to realize that it’s important to care about money. Or should I say that it’s important to understand money because if you do, it’s a little less daunting.
I also understand the importance of hard work and saving; I now maximize my pension contributions and my ISA allowance. I would never take wealth for granted. I have a renewed interest in what I have and where I spend it. I take the time to make informed decisions and eventually learned that you have to speculate to accumulate, so I invest in stocks and shares.
I never used to mention any numbers to Ryan because I didn’t want him to judge me. I didn’t want to sound boastful or feel like I had more power. I always wanted us to feel like equal partners and we split everything fifty-fifty, even though we just opened a joint bank account after eight years!
He’s just not a great number cruncher, so I take it on to make sure he doesn’t live in a permanent state of panic. Here’s one of the good things to come out of the trauma of the last few years: I’ve created a monster spreadsheet. This covers all assets that come into our shared home; everything coming in and going out sorted (I spend £500 a month on my two dogs if you add it all up, which is quite alarming), and all the expected income streams too. I update it weekly, which I find incredibly motivating. It feels like taking back control of my life after it veered so violently off course.
I may be forensic when it comes to managing our money these days, but I also try to hold on to the feeling of an ironic cushion that my father has in his house. It says, ‘fly first class or your kids will.’ (I feel like I can share this, since neither of us fly first class, so it’s a little less obnoxious!) I used to think that slogan was a little offensive, but now I get it. The message behind this is: live! Light the scented candle, wear your best clothes, invest in that statement jacket so you can show up to work looking like a rock star! You’ve earned it.
IMAGE DIRECTOR: ESTER MALLOY.
STYLIST: NICOLA ROSE.
HAIRSTYLING ASSISTANT: HOPE PALMER.
HAIR AND MAKEUP: KRYSTAL BUCKLEY USING OAUI AND GIORGIO ARMANI BEAUTY
