I love my husband. He’s kind, generous to my family, and a great dad. But financially, things feel really unfair.
We’ve been together 6 years, married for almost 3, with a 5-year-old son. He now makes over $2 million a year, has millions in savings, and I’ve averaged $45k/year. I recently folded my business, filed bankruptcy, and now consult, making around $8k/month. Still, I’m expected to cover groceries, utilities, preschool, kid expenses, pet costs, and household items—often leaving me broke, with nothing for myself or savings.
He pays the rent and buys lavish gifts—like an e-bike or spa day—but refuses to contribute to daily life needs unless they align with his priorities. He’ll happily drop $10k on a Cabo trip, but won’t chip in more than $1k to help furnish our home. I just spent $3k this month from my own limited income to make our new rental livable while he plans luxury trips with friends. When I charged a $40 tennis lesson to our club account, he asked me to pay it back.
He insists everything is “ours,” but I have no access to our money. We signed a prenup that keeps all of his income and assets separate. He refuses to pool any money or split expenses proportionally—even though he makes 44x what I do. I end up carrying a huge burden while he builds wealth and lives comfortably.
I feel like an unpaid au pair. No real romance, no financial partnership, and no shared vision. He says he’s proud of me, but I feel invisible and numb. I’ve worked tirelessly for years, even through postpartum and bankruptcy, and I’m still financially isolated and treated like I need to prove I’m responsible.
I don’t want handouts. I want a true partnership—shared access, shared decision-making, and some damn respect. I’m thinking of proposing a joint Amex: I’ll put in 50% of my income and he covers the rest. That way, we both invest in the life we’re building together.
I’m asking for advice on how to approach this. How do I get him to understand that his current stance is hurting our marriage and leaving me feeling unloved, unequal, and alone?
Let’s call this what it is: You are married, but you’re living like a financially dependent roommate and full-time nanny who occasionally gets a spa day to keep her quiet.
That’s not love. That’s control dressed up in kindness and expensive gifts.
He says “it’s all ours,” but that’s a lie. If you have to ask permission or walk on eggshells before charging a damn tennis lesson while he drops thousands on luxury clothes and trips—you’re not a partner. You’re an employee with unclear benefits.
Now, I don’t care if you signed a prenup. I don’t care if he was poor growing up. I don’t care if he’s “great at saving.” None of that matters if he’s using those excuses to justify keeping you on financial life support while he flies to Aspen with the guys.
That’s not marriage. That’s a business arrangement he gets to control.
And let me say this real clear: your contributions matter. You’ve kept a household running. You’ve parented. You’ve worked. You’ve sacrificed. You’ve built businesses. You’ve done it all. And still, you’ve been carrying the emotional and logistical weight of this family basically solo. That’s not a marriage. That’s burnout with a wedding ring.
Let me ask you something hard: If you took sex off the table and stopped putting on a brave face, how long would this marriage last?
Because right now, it sounds like your husband gets a mom for his kid, a manager for his household, a cheerleader for his ego, and a sex partner who feels numb inside. And you? You get scraps. You get “thank you”s and “I’m proud of you”s and spa days instead of real respect, support, or shared life.
That’s why you’re angry. That’s why you’re exhausted. Because this isn’t about money. This is about value. He’s not showing you that you matter.
So here’s what you do:
1. Get real clear on what you need – Not just money stuff. I’m talking about emotional connection, shared responsibilities, joint decisions. Write it down. Every bit of it. Don’t edit yourself.
2. Have a face-to-face, no-B.S. conversation – And you say: “I love you. But I can’t keep living like this. I’m not your employee. I’m not your dependent. I’m your wife. And I feel like I’m carrying this family alone while you play rich guy. This is unsustainable. We need a shared plan—financially, emotionally, logistically—or this marriage isn’t going to make it.”
3. Propose a solution, not a handout – That shared Amex idea? Perfect. Tell him exactly how it works. Make it clear you’re not asking for his money—you’re asking for a shared life.
4. Set a boundary. And mean it – If he refuses to budge—if he gaslights you or makes you feel guilty for wanting basic respect and equality—then you have a decision to make. You can either stay and keep bleeding slowly, or you can draw a line and say, “I’m not doing this anymore.”
You deserve partnership, not permission slips.
You deserve to be seen, not managed.
You deserve love that looks like shared life, not luxury crumbs.
And no matter what happens, you are not crazy, and you are not alone.
Let’s get you back in the driver’s seat of your own life.