Baby it’s just me and you, and the Roth IRA

“I buy better shoes when I’m single,” she said.

Did that just happen? That goes down in the pantheon of best lines ever. I almost fell off of my heels.

It got me thinking: When we go from single to coupled, do our spending habits change?

You have conversations about how much attending this or that event will cost. It’s always a discussion about whether or not “we” can afford this or that. Or better yet, if one or the other likes this or that.

When you’re single, and you wanna go, you go. There’s no debate or discussion about whether everyone agrees it’s in your budget. When you’re single, it’s “only $20” and you spend more than that on coffee every week.

Regarding the quality of shoes, that’s totally true. When you’re the only one you have to think about, and you want it, you buy it. Yes, that bike is $800, but so what, it’s your $800. The freedom to spend your money the way you see fit is nice.

But you’ve also got nobody keeping you from making decisions that are not necessarily in your best interest. Sometimes it could be useful if a voice, other than your mother, asked you if you really need to be spending that much.

I have purchased $300 shoes, $900 wallets, $1000 sweaters and $1200 meals. You name it, I’ve probably spent money on it before. Most of that time I was in a relationship – I’m where the single-versus-coupled rule has its exception. My exes and I split our expenditures, and I still spent my money like a single person because they never expected me to support them or contribute to their needs.

We were also not building a life together then. We were like two single people, in a relationship.

That is how I have always been in relationships. I knew other couples share retirement accounts together, buy houses together, built lives together. I had never done that, so I never got the “consult with my partner” thing.

On one hand, I had the freedom to do what I wanted with my money. On the other hand, I never had the stability of knowing that someone was there as invested, literally, in our relationship as I was. We went on great vacations, but when I was out of work, beyond food and shelter I was S-O-L.

I am not knocking any of my exes. These are just the facts. Until recently, it didn’t even occur to me that there was another way to be.

But when someone actually says the words “making a better life for us,” shoes and fabulous vacations don’t mean as much.

Recently, my life has changed. I’m thinking about financial planners. (I’d thought about them before, but I’d usually lie down until it passes). I never thought about it from the “us and our future” perspective. Now, I might actually call one of those planners for something other than meeting for wine and giggles.

When we talk about trips we actually discuss how that affects the bills. This is completely foreign to me. I mean, I’ve never talked about money out loud beyond figuring out who’s picking up the check this time.

The coolest thing is I still get to spend my money. You must always give to yourself. If you don’t, suddenly your love is gone and all that’s left is resentment for everything you gave up to be with your partner. It’s happened to me.

Instead, I say I may not be able to buy those $425 Jimmy Choos when they first come out, looking fabulous alone at the bar. But I can buy them for $175 on sale and snuggle up next to my love, with our nest egg tucked firmly beneath us.