I'm not your bitch, don't hang your shit on me.

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

It's not our money, it's his money

Every once in a while, I get to catch up with a friend who I haven't spoken to due to scheduling conflicts.  Usually, we're working opposing hours, or more likely, it's because they're dating and have "no time" for a 20-minute coffee break since their man expects them to be on beckon call 24 hours a day.

Inevitably, the talk circles to that of spending.  

We just bought a new condo/house.

We're decorating/renovating our condo/house.

We're going on a trip and staying in a famous hotel/resort.

We're getting a new wardrobe from [designer/retailer X].

We're eating at at this 4-star/celebrity chef restaurant.

And, on and on.

To be honest, that money talk is fine and dandy.  The thing is, my friends aren't spending their money.  I know how much they make (even if I don't ever divulge my earnings) and it's impossible to live the lives they have without having their boyfriends shell out for almost all of the expenses.
 And I don't care what people say, no one can buy an $800,000 house when they make $25,000 a year (no bank will give you a loan/mortgage for that amount).  I don't care how good you claim your credit is.

To rephrase the inner thoughts of my friends: it's not "our" money, it's "his" money.

They're not married (or even common-law), they're dating.  If the man wants to dump them, they have nothing.  Their names aren't on any papers and those vacations/fashion trips won't pay the bills.  They barely have squatter rights in their $800,000 house.  Don't kid yourself, guys.  I've learned from my mistakes.  The prenup protects me: I own what is mine.  In this case, it's not yours, it's his.