Luis Maimoni, LMFT

Marriage and Family Therapist in Long Beach, California

Category: Being Assertive (Page 1 of 2)

Are you being taken for granted? Do you struggle to ask for what you want and need?

When “Good Communication” Doesn’t Fix It

The Gottmans are, without question, among the most influential relationship researchers of our time. They’ve studied how couples communicate and have published volumes on how couples should communicate.

For most couples, their tools work beautifully.

But if you’ve worked on your communication skills — really worked on them — and you’re still not getting any closer, you’re not alone.

Sometimes it isn’t a lack of effort.
Sometimes it isn’t a lack of insight.
Sometimes it isn’t even a lack of skill.

Sometimes the problem isn’t how you’re communicating at all.

That’s not a criticism of the Gottmans or their work. Their tools have helped untold numbers of people. But if you’re applying evidence-based tools in good faith and not making progress, it’s worth pausing to ask why — instead of assuming the answer must be you.

Tools Are Powerful — But They’re Still Tools

The Gottman skills are tools. Excellent ones. We know, from overwhelming evidence, that they work.

When they don’t, it’s natural to think, “I must be doing this wrong.”

That’s a fair question to ask.
It’s not fair to assume it’s the only explanation.

Because here’s the thing about tools: even the best tool in the world can cause damage if it’s used on the wrong problem.

A hammer is incredibly useful.
It’s just a terrible way to remove a screw.

You can try.
You can hit harder.
You can tell yourself you just need better technique.

But at some point, the issue isn’t your effort — it’s that you’re using the wrong tool for the job in front of you.

The same thing happens in relationships.

When the tools seem to be failing, don’t start with self-blame — “What’s wrong with me?”
Start instead with a different question:

“What am I trying to use these tools on?”

Because sometimes the problem isn’t that you’re bad at communication.
Sometimes the relationship itself can’t support what the tools are designed to do.

Meet Alex

Alex is loyal. Family-oriented. A “relationships matter” kind of person. He doesn’t walk away easily. When things get hard, his instinct is to lean in — try harder, explain better, be more careful.

He’s doing the things he’s been told to do:

  • Using “I-statements”
  • Trying to see things from his partner’s point of view
  • Taking responsibility
  • Staying calm
  • Making repair attempts

Not perfectly — but honestly.

And it isn’t working.

He’s paying for it. Emotional exhaustion shows up in his body: aches, pain, fog, fatigue. Work is harder. Daily life takes more effort.

Alex doesn’t mind suffering for love or family. He’ll suffer more if it might fix things.

His mind keeps circling the relationship:

What else can I do? What can I do differently? What am I doing wrong?

He finds endless ways to blame himself.

The Loop That Breaks People

Here’s what keeps happening.

Alex uses the skills — not flawlessly, but earnestly.
Things improve. For a while.
Then… back to square one.

It’s never entirely clear why. The same old fight resurfaces. The trust he thought he’d earned turns out not to exist.

Conversations Alex was sure had been resolved reappear — sometimes with screenshots from months-old texts, fragments of half-remembered arguments, details that don’t even sound the way he remembers them.

So Alex tries again. He swallows the hurt, opens himself up, and leans in harder:

  • listens more carefully
  • chooses his words more precisely
  • takes more responsibility
  • works harder to reassure

And still — nothing sticks.

The calm doesn’t accumulate. The relationship doesn’t stabilize. The same conflicts keep returning, just dressed up differently.

His conclusion becomes painfully simple:

“Nothing is working. I must be the problem. If only…”

What’s Actually Happening in These Relationships

Here’s the part Alex missed.

What looked like engagement and repair was actually the relationship equivalent of trench warfare.

While his partner stayed safely in her trench — lobbing grenades — Alex stood upright in the middle of the battlefield, offering himself as a vulnerable target.

And he didn’t mind taking shrapnel if it meant pulling his partner out of her trench.

Put in therapy language: two nervous systems are doing very different things.

  • One person is trying to calm down, connect, and repair.
  • The other is holding on for dear life to self-protection, safety, and avoiding vulnerability.

So while one person is speaking the language of relationship, the other is speaking the language of survival.

Here’s the non-negotiable truth the Gottman tools quietly rely on:

Repair only works when both people are able and willing to move from “me” to “we.”

When someone is highly activated, defensive, or distrustful, their focus isn’t the relationship. It’s self-protection. Winning. Avoiding vulnerability.

People can say they want repair. They may even restrain themselves from using their biggest weapons. But that doesn’t mean they’re able — not just willing — to be open and receptive.

It’s one thing to say you’re open to reconnection.
It’s another for your nervous system to tolerate it.

And if either person can’t move from me toward we, no amount of good communication will save the conversation.

Signs This Isn’t a Skills Problem

If you’re wondering whether this applies to you, here are some common patterns.

The Reset Problem
You have a good talk. Things feel better.
Then a day or two later, you’re right back in the same conflict — often with more irritation than before.

The Moving Goalposts
You do what was asked. You adjust. You try to meet the need.
But it’s not enough. The standard shifts — for you, not for them.

The Vulnerability Boomerang
You open up because it feels safe in the moment.
Later, that disclosure is used against you in a different argument.
Trusting again gets harder — but you try anyway.

The “Me vs. You” Conversations
Not every discussion turns into a battle — but enough of them do.
Both people are depleted. Both are trying to win.
The conversation never truly becomes we — and without that, the skills can’t do their job.

Here’s the hardest realization:

If the other person can’t or won’t work toward we, this isn’t something you can fix by yourself.

Therapy can help people work through fear, history, trauma, and limited capacity. That’s central to the work. But even with effort and good intentions, change isn’t guaranteed — because you can’t do someone else’s work for them.

That’s why therapists repeat a frustrating truth:

You can only work on yourself.

Or, more plainly:

If your partner can’t or won’t move from “me” toward “we,” there is nothing you can do that will magically make them.

Which leads to the next question.

Why You Keep Trying Anyway

For most of us, our families and partners are foundational. And for some people, the potential loss of those relationships doesn’t just feel sad — it feels unthinkable. Like an existential threat.

So they explain more. Try harder. Soften their needs. Choose better words. Stay longer than they should.

And when none of it works, self-blame steps in.

Here’s the twisted logic:

If it’s my fault, there’s still hope.

If I just say it better, try harder, grow more — maybe it will finally click.

Self-blame keeps hope alive.
Even when the cost of hope — sleep, health, and peace — keeps mounting.

A Gentle Self-Check

This isn’t about diagnosing yourself. It’s about noticing patterns.

  • Do you rehearse conversations like you’re studying for a final?
  • Do you spend more time perfecting how to say something than asking whether it’s safe to say it?
  • Do you feel guilty the moment you consider pulling back?
  • Do you feel calm only when they’re calm?

If your relationship has you doing emotional calculus at 2:00am… that’s data.

And sleep isn’t optional. If you can’t sleep, the relationship is costing you more than mood — it’s costing you health.

Here’s What You Can Do

Once you’re willing to consider that the problems might not be your fault, you can play the game differently.

You don’t need to demand new rules. These are changes you can make on your own.

If your partner responds positively, that’s data.
If your partner escalates, accuses, or punishes you for trying, that’s data too.

Reasonable shifts include:

  • Stop using skills to earn safety.
  • Move from trying to fix the relationship to assessing whether we is actually possible.
  • Replace more explaining with more observing.
  • Build support outside the relationship so connection isn’t your only oxygen source.
  • Set boundaries not to control the other person — but to keep yourself intact.

This isn’t giving up.
It’s getting honest about what the situation can — and can’t — support.

If You Saw Yourself in This

If you read this and thought, “Oh. That’s me,” here’s the hard truth:

This is an incredibly difficult pattern to climb out of alone.

Not because you’re weak — but because the part of you that wants to leave is tangled up with the part of you that believes connection is non-optional.

Working with a therapist who understands attachment, nervous system activation, and boundaries can help.

You might not need more communication skills.
You need a better map.
And sometimes, a steady guide makes all the difference.

Boundaries: They Don’t Work Until You Do

This Post Is for People Who Struggle to Set and Keep Boundaries

Chatting with William

This post isn’t about how to set boundaries. I’ve already written that.

But my friend William—thoughtful, kind, and a former therapist himself—explained to me after reading that piece to say, gently, that something was missing. Not wrong. Incomplete.

Specifically: what has to happen inside before boundaries work on the outside.

A Thoughtful Challenge From a Friend

William has lived a lot of life. He’s not interested in winning arguments—he notices patterns, reflects on them, and then says something that makes you pause.

That’s what he did here.

He pointed out that boundaries haven’t always occupied the central place they do now in psychotherapy. Early therapy focused more on intrapsychic boundaries—ego, superego, conscious and unconscious. The interpersonal boundary boom really took off later, especially in the 1980s and 90s, alongside 12-step work and increased attention to addiction, abuse, and trauma.

Fair point.

But then he named something more important.

The Shadow Side of Boundary Setting

William described watching people set boundaries with pressured speech, fear in their eyes, sometimes even rage—like they were bracing for a fight. Less self-respect, more defensive maneuver. He wondered whether some boundary setting was really about control, or about a frightened part of ourselves trying desperately not to get hurt again.

I didn’t disagree.

I’ve seen people avoid boundaries because they’re afraid of the reaction they’ll get. Afraid someone will get angry. Afraid the relationship will change. Afraid something long-standing might fall apart. These are often relationships with history—family, partners, people who’ve been around for decades.

That fear keeps people from doing what needs to be done. By keeping the smaller peace, they set the stage for a biggerwar—one that tends to break out later, louder, and uglier.

I can’t tell you how often I’ve said this in my office: Good fences make good neighbors. Good boundaries make good relationships.

And if a relationship can’t survive a boundary around something you truly can’t live with? That’s not a failure. Painful, yes—but also clarifying. Why are you working so hard to preserve a relationship that only functions if you keep abandoning yourself?

As God told Abraham in Genesis 12:1: Get thee out.

Why Late Boundaries Turn Into Rage

When William mentioned rage, it might have sounded like an exaggeration. It isn’t.

If you don’t set boundaries, people will take advantage of you. Call it fair or unfair—it doesn’t matter. Humans do what humans do, usually without much awareness of why they’re doing it.

As toes get stepped on again and again, resentment builds. When resentment builds long enough, it hardens into anger. And when anger goes unaddressed, it turns into rage.

At that point, boundaries finally get set—but they’re explosive, damaging, and hard to sustain. They’re powered by emotion rather than conviction. Once the emotional surge fades, the boundary collapses.

The way to avoid rage-boundaries is simple, though not easy: set boundaries earlier.

The Boundary Is With Yourself First

This is where William shared a story that really landed.

Years ago, he called his friend David to talk through a boundary he was planning to set. David listened and then said,
“It sounds like the person you really need to be setting boundaries with is yourself.”

That’s the heart of it.

Before you say anything to someone else, you have to get clear within yourself:

  • What can go
  • What cannot go
  • What you are—and are not—willing to live with

When that clarity is real, it changes your presence. And that presence changes how conversations go. It even changes which conversations you decide to have at all.

William was reminded of something Louise Hay once said—paraphrased, but true to her spirit: if you don’t like what someone is doing, don’t try to change them.

Say “no thank you,” and move toward the kind of relationship and environment you want to participate in.

No drama. No punishment. Just living in line with what you’ve already decided.

Why Boundaries Fail: It’s Not the Words

The number-one reason boundaries fail is simple: they’re never actually set. They’re wished for rather than made. A close second is that they’re framed as requests instead of limits.

But even when people do everything “right,” many still assume boundaries fail because they didn’t say them properly. Wrong words. Wrong tone. Too soft. Too harsh. If only they’d rehearsed better.

In my experience, boundaries don’t fail because of wording. They fail because the person setting them doesn’t yet believe them.

You can’t hold a boundary you don’t mean.

I learned this years ago as a new parent. Our young child loved climbing into our bed at night. We said “no” and put him back—again and again. Minutes later, a warm, loving, beautiful child was right back where he wanted to be.

It wasn’t until my therapist told me—rather memorably—that boundaries are like curses in Harry Potter lore: you have to mean them.

Once the boundary was internally settled—this is no longer happening—things changed. Same words. Different intention.

Healthy Boundaries Start With Internal Conviction

The earlier post was about boundary mechanics. This one is about why boundary work keeps therapists like me fully employed.

If boundary setting feels anxious, brittle, or explosive, that’s not a sign you’re failing. It’s a sign more internal work is needed—the work of deciding, quietly and firmly, what you’re no longer available for.

Once that decision is made, boundaries tend to come out cleaner. Calmer. Less like a threat and more like a fact.

William didn’t convince me boundaries are outdated. But he did remind me—and I think he’s right—that boundaries work best when they aren’t weapons, ultimatums, or last-ditch attempts to control outcomes.

They work when they reflect something already decided inside.

And those are the boundaries that last.

Families Are the Best Reason for Boundaries. Ever.

Everywhere you look, there’s advice on how to “get along with family.”
Keep the peace. Keep it light. Pretend everyone gets along because… “we’re family.”

Right. And I’m the Tooth Fairy.

Here’s what never makes a decorative pillow:
Families are wonderful, messy, loving, infuriating bundles of history and triggers.
Being around them can turn even the most therapized adult into their 10-year-old self in three seconds flat.

You spend years individuating — building a life based on your values — and then you reunite with family and suddenly Dad’s cigar and Uncle Oscar’s fourth-martini politics trigger a suffocated rage you’d forgotten you’d ever felt.

Family gatherings are stressful for plenty of reasons, but here’s one of the biggest ones:
They drop us right back into the places where we once had zero power.
That’s why it may be worthwhile for you to think of boundaries as survival skills for family gatherings.

News Flash! Requests ≠ Boundaries! 

We’re socialized to be nice, and to make polite requests:

  • “Please don’t bring up politics.”
  • “Maybe cut back on the alcohol?”
  • “Can you smoke outside?”

Requests keep the peace in the moment but accomplish very little, because you’re asking someone to stop doing something they’ve been doing for a very long time. Not happening — not because they don’t love you, but because this is who they are. So let’s have a look at what an actual boundary looks like:

Request: “Please stop raising your voice.”
Boundary: “If you raise your voice, I’m stepping away.”

One depends on their cooperation.
The other depends on your spine.

Boundaries don’t control the room. They clarify you — your choices, your comfort, your plan.

Boundary Buffet: Help Yourself!

Instead of:
“Would you please be careful about how much you drink this year?”
Try:
“If things get rowdy, I’m leaving early.”

Instead of:
“Please don’t smoke that cigar.”
Try:
“If there’s smoking indoors, I’ll be outside.”

Instead of:
“Maybe skip the weed at dinner?”
Try:
“If substances come out, I’m out.”

Instead of:
“Let’s avoid politics.”
Try:
“If politics come up, I’ll change the subject or step out.”

Boundaries Aren’t About Them. They’re About You. 

If you’re like most of us, it’s uncomfortable to ask someone to do something that will help us enjoy a family event. Try thinking of it this way:
You’re not controlling others. You’re letting people know how you’ll take care of yourself when certain “family specials” pop up.

Even if you did want to change their behaviors, they’re the only ones who can make that change. So, it can be helpful to reframe the idea of setting a boundary from being about someone else’s behaviors to being about our own – our actions, our limits, and what we’re willing to participate in.

Put another way: You’re not telling people what to do — you’re telling people what you will do.

That’s it. No threats. No ultimatums. Just clarity.

Hosts, Guests — It Doesn’t Matter

Whether dinner is at your place or someone else’s, your boundaries belong to you.

You don’t need permission.
You don’t need consensus.
You don’t need the family vote.

And here’s the kicker: setting boundaries may have consequences. You might not get invited to your nephew’s birthday party. You might miss Uncle Vito heading to the kids’ table to demonstrate his ability to burp the alphabet in one heroic, horrifying go.

But that’s the point: you choose what you endure — or don’t.

The Bottom Line

You cannot fix your family. It’s not your job.
Your job is to take care of yourself in the beautiful, chaotic circus you were born into.

Boundaries make that possible.
They protect your peace.
They create space for real connection — the honest, grounded, sustainable kind.

Everything else is optional.

Love, Power, and the Checkbook

The House That Looked Like Order

Before apps and automatic transfers, there was the kitchen table — the quiet command center of family life. That’s where the smell of Grandma’s fresh-baked cookies filled the air, homey artwork lined the walls, and a starburst clock kept perfect time — an optimistic little sun presiding over the daily order. Everything about that house said warmth, routine, and safety, or at least looked that way.

That sense of security came from the appearance of order. Bills got paid, dinner appeared, and the world seemed to make sense. What your memories may not include are the unspoken assumptions and quiet sacrifices — the cultural constraints and gender roles that kept the gears turning. The invisible machinery made home feel safe, even if it wasn’t always fair. (Spoiler: emotional labor wasn’t even called labor yet.)

Bacon, Grease, and the Golden Rule

Back then, Grandpa brought in the bacon and was honored for the sizzle; Grandma cooked it and used the grease to keep the household running. On the surface, it looked efficient, even loving — everyone had their role. But that tidy division of labor came with a grease stain — the kind that doesn’t wash out: built-in inequity.

Those old-fashioned values leaned on what was called the “Golden Rule,” the expectation of fairness. But the truer saying, then and now, is “Whoever has the gold, makes the rules.” Money talks, and the rest of us make do. Grandma? She “made do” with plenty of love, a smile, a sigh, and a spotless kitchen. Grandpa got the last pour of bourbon and the final say — or so he thought.

Modern Money, Same Old Tension

These days, there’s no predetermined answer to who earns the money, who manages it, or who decides how it’s spent. Some couples merge accounts, others split them, some go halfsies in the name of fairness — but none of it cancels out the quiet (or not-so-quiet) conflicts over safety, control, and trust. The Golden Rule still applies, separate bank accounts notwithstanding. (Venmo didn’t solve patriarchy; it just made reimbursements faster.)

The Math Doesn’t Add Up

Splitting everything 50/50 sounds fair in theory but rarely works in practice. So much starts out unequal — income, labor, caregiving, emotional bandwidth. Who’s caring for kids, aging parents, pets, or holding the family’s emotional center? And that’s before we even talk about the fact that people naturally want different things.

And then there’s the invisible labor — the person who plans, anticipates, and reminds; who knows when the bills are due, when the insurance renews, when the kids’ tuition hits. That’s not just organization — it’s mental load. It’s the emotional weight of making sure everyone else feels secure, often without acknowledgment or help. And yes, it’s work. (No pension, but lots of receipts.)

Money is Power

Sharing money is sharing power, and you can’t balance dreams, safety, and groceries on the same scale. It’s less about math and more about trust — tuning into your partner, understanding why you each need what you need, and saying it out loud. (Pro tip: do that before the credit-card bill arrives.) Skip the debate over who pays what, and ask instead: What does money mean to you right now? What are you afraid of losing? What would make you feel safe? Those questions build more security than any spreadsheet ever could.

The Grandparents in the Wallet

Our relationship with money doesn’t start in adulthood; it starts in childhood. We watch how our parents and caregivers earn, spend, save, and fight about it — and then we copy, rebel, or overcorrect. Maybe you grew up in a house where money was tight and every purchase had to be justified. Maybe it was plentiful, but used as proof of love or control. Either way, the story you learned back then shapes how you handle it now.

Some people calm their anxiety by tracking every dollar, believing that if they stay on top of the numbers, nothing bad can happen. Others feel safest by letting someone else handle the money — not because they don’t care, but because watching the numbers rise and fall makes them nervous. And some of us do both, depending on the week.

That’s why “You handle it” isn’t always about convenience — it can mean, I don’t want to feel this anxiety right now. And “I’ll handle it” isn’t always about competence — it can mean, I can’t relax unless I’m in control. What looks like a simple division of labor is often two nervous systems negotiating for safety.

When couples start talking about money, they’re really talking about trust, fear, and the ghosts of old family stories — ghosts that still whisper what’s “normal,” what’s “enough,” and who’s supposed to be in charge.

Whose Wallet Is It Anyway?

So how do you figure out who should “run” the money? Start by dropping the idea that you can share a life but keep your finances separate from it. You’re already financially intertwined — pretending otherwise just hides the power dynamics that are already at play. Not everyone has to love spreadsheets or take on the heavy lifting, but like any other power issue in a relationship, the agreement should be clear and consensual. Talking about it doesn’t make things awkward; it keeps them honest.

Begin with three conversations — ideally before someone’s holding the credit-card bill like a subpoena:

  1. Trade Family Stories. Ask each other what money was like growing up — who controlled it, who avoided it, and what that felt like. You’ll learn more in ten minutes of story than in a year of spreadsheets.
  2. Talk About Triggers. What parts of money make you anxious or shut down? Taxes? Overspending? The “what ifs”? Knowing each other’s danger zones helps you assign roles that fit strengths, not fears.
  3. Decide on Transparency. Whether one of you pays the bills or you both do, agree that neither is “in charge.” You’re both custodians of shared trust. Check in regularly — not to audit, but to connect.

The goal isn’t perfect equality; it’s collaboration without fear. When the system starts to wobble, go back to curiosity: What’s happening underneath this money fight? Nine times out of ten, it’s not about the numbers — it’s about safety, respect, or the need to feel heard.

Cookies, Bourbon, and an Old Grease Stain

And maybe, just maybe, picture Grandma and Grandpa again — sitting at that kitchen table, the smell of cookies still in the air, the checkbook open between them. Imagine Grandma leaning in this time, pen in hand, eyes locked with Grandpa’s. They’re not fighting; they’re smiling — possibly because she just found out he can bake too. The cookies are still warm, the bourbon’s still poured, and the old grease stain’s finally wiped clean.

This time, the power isn’t making a mess. They’ve learned to cook without splatter — less smoke, less cleanup, more flavor. It takes less energy to make it work, and it leaves a little extra for what matters most: another round of cookies… and bourbon.

Moving In Together? Don’t Skip the Stress Test

Before you move in…

Paperwork ≠ Intimacy

Thinking about moving in together? Let’s clear something up: no amount of paperwork or negotiation will guarantee a good outcome if you haven’t really gotten to know each other.

Paperwork doesn’t build intimacy. A lease won’t make your partner kinder, tidier, or less obsessed with leaving socks in creative places. And it definitely won’t change the way they load the dishwasher.

Compatibility Isn’t Just the Good Times

Nobody moves in thinking they’re incompatible. But most of us make that decision based on how we’ve experienced our partner at their best. True compatibility shows up when you’ve also seen them at their worst.

Stress Reveals the Real Story

Here’s why: when life is easy, we tend to show up as our best selves. We’re generous, collaborative, and open. Early in a relationship, we even keep our “party manners” on. But under stress, we default to our attachment style — the protective, defensive self. That’s when the anxious partner clings, the avoidant partner pulls away, and the secure partner is left wondering what just happened.

Want to dig deeper? Here’s a primer on attachment styles, one of the most well-researched theories in relational psychology: Attachment Styles and Relationships (The Gottman Institute).

Love Alone Isn’t Enough

Bluntly: the person you think might be “marriage material” has a dark side. We all do. Stress is what brings out the rough edges. And if you’re counting on “love will find a way,” the divorce statistics suggest otherwise.

The Big Four Questions Before You Move In

The usual advice about moving in covers the basics:

  • Motives. Love + joy? Great. Saving money? Congratulations, you’ve just found the world’s priciest roommate.
  • Boundaries. Love without them burns out. Boundaries without love isolate. Pick your poison.
  • Power. Money, assets, anger, even the “need to please.” Equality’s a myth. Fairness is the goal.
  • Commitment. If you’re doing it “to see what happens,” what usually happens is resentment.

All of these matter — but they assume compatibility. And you can’t measure compatibility until you’ve seen how your partner (and you) respond when things go wrong.

Try a Stress Test

Now, you can’t exactly banish your partner to Siberia or create stress on purpose by hiding their underwear. But you can take a trip together — somewhere unfamiliar, long enough and bumpy enough to test how you both cope when life isn’t picture-perfect. At the very least, you’ll learn whether your partner snores like a chainsaw before the honeymoon.

Vacations aren’t cheap. But they’re a whole lot cheaper than moving in, moving out, and way, way cheaper than divorce.

Bottom Line

Moving in together isn’t just about splitting Wi-Fi. It’s about building a life. And before you do that, make sure you know not only who your partner is when things are easy — but who they are when things get hard.

 

Money: Separate Accounts, Same Fights

Column J: Hidden Resentments

According to a YouGov survey, 28% of couples fight about money. Worse, research on everyday marital conflicts finds that money related disputes tend to last longer, recur more often, feel more significant, and are less likely to be resolved than fights about other topics.

Money isn’t just money—it’s love, safety, fairness, freedom, and the irritation stemming from “Why did you blow $550 on new headphones when we can’t afford to fix the dishwasher?”

So, let’s bust a myth: “Separate bank accounts mean we won’t fight about money.” Cute idea. Too bad it doesn’t work.

You don’t get financial freedom just because you each have your own debit card. You still share a mortgage/rent, groceries, insurance, and the joy of streaming bills. Separate accounts don’t erase interdependence—they just make it easier to pretend.

The “I’ll Pay X, You Pay Y” Illusion

Dividing bills sounds so tidy: “You cover rent, I’ll take utilities.” Done, right? Wrong. That’s not a financial plan—it’s a roommate agreement.

Here’s what that neat little math “solution” ignores:

  • Income gaps = power gaps. The partner earning less often feels like they have less voice in how money is spent.
  • Not all contributions are financial. Housework, childcare, and emotional labor don’t show up in a checking account, but hey: this is a relationship blog. Ignore those contributions at your peril.
  • Hidden resentments thrive in silence. What feels “fair” to one partner may feel forced or inequitable to the other.

The truth is, “I’ll pay X, you pay Y” is a shortcut. And shortcuts in relationships usually mean skipping the hard stuff—like values, fairness, and trust… foundational elements of a healthy intimate relationship.

California Reality Check

Quick disclaimer: I’m a therapist, not your lawyer. If you need legal advice, talk to one.

For married couples in California (and other community property states), separate accounts don’t actually mean separate assets. You might feel more independent, but the court may see it differently.

Which brings us back to the real question: Are you using separate accounts for healthy autonomy—or as a way to keep secrets? If you can’t show your partner your bank statement, but you’re fine letting them see you drool in your sleep, we might need to talk about your definition of “healthy autonomy”.

Relationship First, Money Second

Money fights aren’t usually about money.

Fights about money – and agreements about money – are fights and agreements about the relationship. So before you even touch the numbers, ask yourselves: What kind of team do we want to be?

  • Do we want an all-in partnership with full financial transparency?
  • Or do we want to allow for individual autonomy—and if so, how much?

Put bluntly: if you’re ready to share a life together but not your financial truths, don’t be surprised when trust issues show up in both places.

Separate (but still huge) factor: your family of origin shaped your comfort with money long before you met your partner. If no one ever taught you to budget, or money was a taboo topic in your house, then you’ve got some extra work to do. You can’t commit to what you don’t understand.

Household Finance Hack

Here’s a hack that works for most couples:

  1. Start with values. What matters more—security, fun, generosity, growth? Name them together.
  2. Fund “Ours” first. Housing, food, insurance, kids, savings, shared goals. Take care of the team before the individuals.
  3. Then carve out discretionary dollars. Note: dollars, not categories. That means your slice of money is yours to spend—no judgment. If you want three boxes of donuts, a new purse, or the latest Apple Watch, that’s your business. No snark from your partner required.
  4. Automate visibility. Use apps like Mint, YNAB, or Monarch to track spending and categorize it automatically. That way no one partner ends up stuck playing Accountant of Doom at the kitchen table with a spreadsheet.
    • And here’s the key: everyone contributing to the budget gets to see the budget and the spending. Even if a partner isn’t at all interested in the money, knowing they can see whatever they want to see whenever they want to see it is a sure fire way to build trust and safety.

Bottom Line

Separate accounts don’t stop fights. Shared clarity doesn’t guarantee peace either—but it gives you a fighting chance. Autonomy only works if it’s framed as “this is for me” and understood as “it’s still part of us.”

Your money system is an expression of your relationship. Decide what kind of relationship you want, and let the money plan reflect that. Otherwise, you’re just roommates with benefits and joint Wi-Fi (and maybe a couple of shared streaming passwords).

Money: When Self-Worth Is on the Line

Nice watch!

If you’ve ever had a “money fight” with your partner, chances are you weren’t really fighting about the money.

Sure, it might look like a debate over a purchase, a budget, or a bank account — but beneath the surface, money often stands in for something bigger and messier.

Why We Spend the Way We Spend

Sometimes a purchase is just a purchase — a new pair of shoes, a bigger TV, a dinner out.

But just as often, it’s not about the thing itself. It’s about what the thing means to us:

  • A pair of shoes that says, Look at me!
  • A TV so big it says, I deserve to feel like I’m at the game!
  • A fancy dinner out that says, We’re celebrating, woo-hoo!

These aren’t bad impulses; they’re human ones. The trouble comes when the special meaning we gave an item — knowingly or not — runs headlong into our partner’s reaction.

How Shame Gets Pulled Into the Room

When you buy something to validate yourself — the watch, the purse, the car, the splurge dinner — you want your partner to celebrate it with you.

Instead, you hear:

“Do we really need that?”
“That’s too much money.”

In an instant, what felt like fun (and maybe self-care) can turn into self-doubt and resentment. The good feelings are replaced by shame or defensiveness — not because of the item itself, but because your partner has (perhaps unintentionally) invalidated what it meant to you.

The Emotional Math Behind Money

We like to believe our spending decisions are logical.

Mostly, they’re not.

Even in business, after the spreadsheets and scorecards, final decisions often come down to an emotion-based choice between similar options. The difference? At work, your spouse isn’t standing there with a raised eyebrow.

In a relationship, every purchase lives inside a shared emotional space. That space might be:

  • Open and trusting – where curiosity outweighs criticism.
  • Tense and mistrustful – where each purchase feels like a test.
  • A mix of both – like the famous box of chocolates: you never know what you’re going to get.

The Role of Upbringing

Our money habits didn’t start with our current partner. Early messages from family, culture, and past relationships shape how we spend — and how we react to our partner’s spending.

  • If your childhood taught you that spending is indulgent or unsafe, you may hear judgment even when none is intended.
    • If you grew up so resource-strapped you were begging neighbors to pick their weeds so your mom could cook them for dinner, spending might always carry a faint sense of danger, even in good times.
  • If you grew up equating spending with success, being questioned can feel like being told you’re not successful enough.
  • If you grew up with wealth and privilege, you may see spending as natural and unremarkable — which can clash with a partner who treats every dollar as a decision.

Those early experiences don’t disappear when we become adults. They ride along with us — and sometimes, they’re the ones really doing the talking in a money fight.

Practical Takeaways

  • Name the need – Ask yourself: Am I buying this to meet a practical need or an emotional one? Focus not just on what you buy, but why you buy it — and consider whether that “why” is influenced by your early money experiences.
  • Set “no-discussion” thresholds – Agree that purchases under $X don’t require consultation.
  • Separate autonomy from secrecy – Personal spending freedom doesn’t have to mean financial blind spots.
  • Use a values-based budget – Align your spending plan with what matters most to both of you.

Ask This Before Your Next “Money Fight”

  • Is this actually about money? Are we talking about rent money — or resentment money?
  • Is this a values clash? Are we disagreeing about what matters, or about the price tag?
  • Am I buying this to feel worthy? If so, is there a healthier way to meet that need?

Bottom Line

If you’re fighting over a $75 purse when the bills are paid, the fight probably isn’t about the purse. But if the account is empty and someone buys the latest gadget, it may be an attempt to fill a self-worth gap that money can’t actually fill.

Talking openly — even about the shame stuff — can help you both see what’s really at stake. Because if you only ever talk about the dollars, you risk missing the truth hiding underneath.

The Elephant in the Wallet

Shhhh… We Don’t Talk About Money!

We need to talk about money.
Which is awkward, because most of us were taught not to.

It’s a little strange, isn’t it? We spend so much time thinking about money, worrying about it, trying to stretch it. We tell ourselves it’s not what matters most. That it doesn’t define us. Meanwhile, we casually refer to rich people as having a “high net worth.”

Truth is, money touches nearly every part of our lives—identity, security, autonomy, trust, power, love, and sometimes even lust.
But talking about it? That’s where we draw the line.

Ask someone about their income, credit card debt, or whether they can actually afford that trip to Italy, and you’ve committed a social sin. It’s “none of your business.” And that silence? That’s no way to build a shared financial life.

How Did We Get Here?

Our discomfort didn’t start with budgeting apps or forgotten Venmo requests. It started much earlier.

Maybe your parents tried to protect you by keeping money stress a secret. Or maybe you asked how much something cost and got scolded for being “nosy.” Maybe Aunt Bea and Uncle Arthur got dragged in whispered tones at Thanksgiving for living beyond their means.
Growing up in that kind of environment, you may have learned that money is sacred, private, off-limits—something to worry about, but never discuss.

Money comes with baggage. The family-sized kind. And enough cultural taboo to sink the Titanic—again.

So we avoid the topic. We split responsibilities, keep our accounts separate, and try not to rock the boat. We’re pretending to be 100% partners while acting like money doesn’t impact our relationship.

But here’s the thing: you are already communicating with your partner about money—whether you talk about it or not.

What That Blender Really Means

That $125 blender? In one family, it’s a thoughtful upgrade. In another, it’s a reckless impulse buy. Same object. Completely different meanings.

And here’s the real kicker: those meanings usually go unspoken. We don’t talk about the spending until the rent is past due or the check bounces. So the only time we do talk about money is when we’re already stressed about it. Not exactly a recipe for healthy communication.

You Don’t Have to Wing It

If love is supposed to conquer all, why does it struggle so hard when it comes to money?

Because money isn’t just numbers and budgets. It’s history. It’s identity. It’s power, trust, and emotional safety. It’s the story we’ve lived—and the one we’re still writing together.

Over the next few posts, we’ll unpack why money is such a loaded topic—and how to make those conversations easier, more connected, and a little less terrifying.

Because while love can conquer a lot, it doesn’t pay the bills (#FlyingLizards). And besides—it shouldn’t have to.

You don’t need a spreadsheet.
You need a brave conversation.

Money fight? Math’s Not the Problem

The Stereotype Showdown

You’ve probably heard it—or maybe even said it:
“She just loves to splurge.”
Or maybe:
“He’s such a tightwad.”

But what if arguments about money aren’t really about money at all—but about power, priorities, and feeling seen?

A friend recently suggested that women overspend while men think more economically. It’s a common belief—but is it true? And even more importantly: is that really the problem?

What the Data Says

Spoiler: it’s not about handbags vs. hardware.

Yes, men and women spend differently. But here’s what that actually means:

  • Women tend to spend more on household goods, children, groceries, and caregiving—often because they do more of the caregiving.
  • Men tend to spend more on big-ticket items like electronics, sporting events, and automobiles. Spoiler alert: a kayak, a new phone, and playoff tickets will run you a bit more than some candles and concealer.

Now here’s where it gets good:

  • Men are more likely to stay within a budget.
  • Women are more likely to set the budget in the first place.

So the guy sticking to the budget? Often working off her spreadsheet.

And yes, women go over budget more frequently—but often because they’re shouldering more of the single-parenting, elder care, and daily survival costs. Their spending isn’t about impulse. It’s about responsibility.

In short: it’s complicated. (Click here for the long version.)

Arguments about money are rarely about who bought what, for how much. They’re about who gets to decide what matters.

Two Options

Before you judge your partner’s purchases, understand what they’re actually buying.

  • A new outfit might be about self-worth.
  • That new game console might be about freedom, escapism—or maybe even avoidance.
  • The fifth kitchen gadget? Could be about trying to get it all done when there aren’t enough hours in the day.
  • The fancy candle? Maybe it’s about peace in a house full of chaos.

The spend is never the full story.

If you’re worried about how your partner spends, here are two options:

Set up a budget with separate “fun money”

Create a shared household fund for essentials, and individual monthly “no-questions-asked” spending accounts.
If he wants a fur-lined bathtub, that’s his call.
If she wants an electric dog tooth polisher, that’s hers.
(Yes, those are real things. We Googled.)

Celebrate the diversity of your choices—and make sure the dog’s teeth aren’t polishing the bathtub.

Be curious. Not critical.

Don’t ask, “Why did you buy that?” Instead, be curious. Explore:

  • “What’s important to you about this?”
  • “What were you hoping to feel?”

Your partner isn’t the enemy, and you’re not a prosecutorial version of Judge Judy with a joint checking account.

Your partner’s spending reflects who they are—and guess what? You picked ’em. So put down the gavel and use the moment to learn a little bit more about your partner..

Once you’re able to appreciate them for who they are, it’ll also make it a lot easier for them to understand why you spent $12,000 on that hallway portrait that “just spoke to you.”

Bottom line:
If the fight about spending is actually a fight about feeling seen, no spreadsheet is going to save you.

6 Things You Have to Do If You’re in a Polyamorous Relationship

Polyamory isn’t a free-for-all. It runs on honesty, emotional intelligence, and calendars. When it works, it’s expansive, connective, and healing. When it breaks down, it’s usually because someone skipped one of these:

  1. Communicate Until It’s Boring

More people = more chances for misalignment. “Good communication” doesn’t just mean talking a lot — it means being assertive (even when it’s hard) and attuned (especially when it’s hard). That means sharing what’s real for you — whether you’re in love, in lust, or in pain — and tuning in to your partners’ feelings, not just their words.

  1. Define What Counts as Cheating

Open ≠ poly ≠ monogamish. One partner might think hooking up with someone new is no big deal — the other might call it betrayal. Just because you’re non-monogamous doesn’t mean you’re on the same page. Spell out what’s in bounds, what’s out, and what happens if someone crosses the line.
And be specific: for some, sex without emotional connection is fine — but emotional intimacy with someone else might feel like a breach. Others are the opposite. Clarify it. Early and often.

  1. Own Your Jealousy Without Blame

Jealousy isn’t a flaw — it’s information. It might signal a need for reassurance, a broken agreement, or an old wound asking for care. Don’t shame it. Don’t weaponize it. Instead, get curious: What story is being told? What story is being heard?
Handled with honesty and explored with curiosity, jealousy can bring the kind of clarity, communication, and closeness that make relationships better.

  1. Bow to the Calendar Gods

Yes, everyone has a calendar — but in poly, your calendar becomes a living, breathing statement of values. Time is one of the clearest ways we express love, prioritize connection, and build trust. If you’re not thoughtful about how time is shared, someone’s going to feel like leftovers. Scheduling also protects solo time, prevents burnout, and avoids last-minute emotional landmines. Good calendaring isn’t overkill — it’s part of how consent and consideration show up in daily life.

  1. Do Your Inner Work

Poly can bring up your “stuff”: insecurity, fear of abandonment, people-pleasing, control. Even if you think you’re immune, you’re probably not. If you don’t tend to your emotional backpack, you’ll end up handing it to someone else — probably a partner you care about. Do your work. Therapy helps. Journaling helps. Honest conversations with yourself help. Don’t outsource your healing to the people you’re dating.

  1. Power Without Awareness Is Just Pressure

Whether or not you’re into kink, polyamory often echoes power dynamics — who initiates, who decides, who leads. Too often, one partner (usually the more experienced or confident one) sets the pace while another quietly tries to keep up. Especially in D/s or top/bottom dynamics, this can get messy fast. Just because someone says yes doesn’t mean they’re not overextending themselves to stay close.
If your desire feels like a freight train, check who’s on the tracks. A “yes” is good — but an enthusiastic, informed yes with real buy-in? That’s where the magic happens.

Want your poly relationships to thrive?

Then go beyond rules and roles. Speak up. Listen close. Let communication and calendars build trust. Define your lines — and respect them. Let jealousy teach you something useful. Do your own work so your partners don’t have to carry it.

And if you’re holding power, use it with care. Because the point isn’t just freedom.
It’s depth. It’s joy. It’s connection — chosen, earned, and real.

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