The Great Joint-Bank-Account Debate

My fiancé and I are getting married in 6 months. The other night at dinner, he said we needed to open a joint bank account. [Side note: We’ve actually been living together for two years and have been managing our bills and household expenses just fine without one.] When I asked him why, he said that it was just something that people do when they get married, that we should both have visibility over our spending and savings and that ‘being accountable’ would help us to buy a house. Next minute, he’d pulled up a Google Sheet with our names (his in blue, mine in pink, LOL) and line items for different expenses; coffees, clothes, streaming subscriptions, ubers, my gym membership, holidays etc so we could track our spending.

I love the fact that he’s a planner but the thought of having to log my morning oat-milk piccolo, my favourite Drunk Elephant face serum and every single Apple-Pay tap I make throughout the day feels pretty…controlling.

I don’t think I’m reckless with money but I don’t deny myself the occasional gift-to-self or dinners with the girls either because: living! He is definitely tighter with money than I am but also, I earn more than he does. The thought of pooling all my income and having to declare every dollar I spend isn’t sitting well with me.

Am I over-reacting?

Hey Lady,

As someone who has never, ever been in possession of a (gulp) joint bank account, despite various co-habitation experiments, reading this has me wanting to loosen my turtleneck before my throat completely closes over with anxiety. But that’s just easily-prone-to-feelings-of-suffocation old me. Many marrieds (and others) are fans of an all-in financial merger and hey, one person’s idea of fiscal asphyxiation can be another’s expression of true togetherness and deep commitment.

It’s clear that there are two parts to this issue and I have a bit to say on each of them:

1. The Joint Bank Account
You’ve been sharing a life etc. for some time so sharing a bank account needn’t be the Big Deal you think it is. But then nor does it need to be ‘what married people do’, as your fiancé put it. What’s important is that this be a mutual decision. A shared account doesn’t have to be one that gobbles up all your money; it could purely be a portal into which you both commit to transfer a set monthly amount to cover shared bills and/or savings goals. Nor does this need to be your only bank account because: everyone needs a stealth Fuck-You Fund for fast exits, very-necessary getaways and guiltless-pleasure spending that nobody needs to sanction but you.

2. That Google Sheet
I would bet your future home deposit on the fact that some bro at work has loaned your financial controller, I mean fiancé, his circa-2016 copy of The Barefoot Investor. It positively reeks of Scott Pape. And while there’s nothing wrong with that (or Scott), being suddenly forced into this full-disclosure accounting practice feels pretty controlling to moi. Where was the conversational lube before he just crudely flopped his spreadsheet onto the date-night dinner table?

…everyone needs a Fuck You Fund for fast exits, very-necessary getaways and guiltless-pleasure spending that nobody needs to sanction but you.

Without sounding alarmist (but also sounding an alarm of sorts), this could also be the early beginnings of the slippery slope that is coercive control and financial abuse. I appreciate that you are wearing love-filtered engagement goggles RN and so this may sound dramatic. [Perhaps sense-check this with your friends who know Him and your relationship then?]

Unless you are a serial gambler, pathological shopper or someone plagued by any (other) kind of addiction then your finances should be in your total control. By all means, agree on a budget to pay your bills and save what you can to go towards that lofty home deposit but as a wage-earning, tax-paying adult you should be able to down as many barista-crafted, alt-milk piccolos as your digestion will allow and marinate in that magical Drunk Elephant serum without having to log any of it into a fucking spreadsheet. You are the boss of you.

Lady, I appreciate that these can be challenging conversations to have in the run-up to a wedding. And that they can also be crimson-coloured flags that may have you doubting whether this legally binding commitment is the right thing for you. But also: this run-up allows you to pressure-test all sorts of hot topics pre-commitment ceremony. Like: whether to procreate or not to procreate, what to call your first born, and how the household chores should be divvied up.

I too love that your guy is a planner. And that he wants to work towards The Great Australian Dream with you. [As long as that’s your dream too, obvs.] I do not love his poor communication skills or that he thought date night was an appropriate forum in which to hard launch his new fiscal plan. Instead, I would get back to basics and bring back the F.U.N. Stage a nude picnic in your living room, set his loaned financial self-help tome alight in a safely-contained fireplace, and draw up a new financial plan that bakes in your shared goals, sprinkle it with a generous coating of fiscal independence for both of you and plan your way into a happy, co-signed future.

The End.
[Or should that be ‘The Beginning’?]

Image via Pinterest.