Opinion piece: Borka Shoemaker
We like to think of our relationships as romantic bonds untouched by mundane things like money. But whether we like it or not, money is very much part of our lives. Ideally, everyone keeps some personal freedom, but when lives intertwine, decisions must be made together. What fits in the budget? Should we spend on a vacation or renovate the kitchen? Pick the couch I like or the one you prefer? And of course, when deciding on expenses, how much weight does it carry if one of us contributes more to the shared pot?
In theory, it’s easy to answer: not at all. A relationship isn’t a hierarchy, it’s a partnership. It’s not a company where a higher salary means more say. But in real life, it’s more complex.
It’s tough on both sides
When one partner earns significantly more, it often brings an unspoken shift in decision-making power. Not necessarily because they demand it, but because the other partner automatically grants them more legitimacy. “After all, they pay the bigger share” – even if unspoken, that thought lingers. And just like that, balance shifts.
I’ve been on both sides. I’ve had relationships where I was clearly the one supporting our lifestyle, and others where I could only join shared plans or afford our goals by accepting that my partner helped financially.
That’s why I know it’s not easy for either side. The higher earner often seeks security, not power. They might feel more responsibility and pressure, wanting a clearer view of financial choices. It’s less about control and more about managing anxiety. At the same time, I personally never saw it as a problem to pay more for shared activities—I wanted to enjoy my money and share that joy with my partner. I wanted them to feel good and speak up about their needs. But I also know that standing on the other side, I felt awkward influencing decisions without contributing as much financially.

Both sides face challenges, but the real problem starts when these feelings go unspoken. When money dynamics silently reshape the relationship. When one partner holds back, and the other doesn’t even notice they’re taking up more space.
To me, the question isn’t whether who earns more matters, but how we handle that difference. If it’s a taboo, it will matter—and likely cause harm. But if we talk about it, it can become a shared strength.
For us, things got easier when we stopped counting “who puts in how much” and started focusing on what matters to each of us and how to align those priorities.
Sometimes one paid more, sometimes the other contributed more invisible work to the relationship. And these aren’t always measured by the same standard.
Money is never just money. It carries self-worth, freedom, security, control. When we decide about it, we’re really deciding about all these things. And if these decisions aren’t made together, it almost certainly poisons the relationship.











