5 Things I Don’t Want My Husband To Find Out From Our Joint Account

Woman-with-Natural-hair-and-money

Every long term relationship comes to a point where finances are discussed. Whether it be separate accounts, joint accounts, or a combination – each have their own pros and cons that couples must weigh up, and hopefully reach a mutual agreement.

I’ve never had a joint account, so when my husband and I had the ‘money talk’, I was horrified by the thought of having a shared account. The reason? I think how a person spends money says a lot about them, and the idea of the man I love knowing each and every detail of when, where, how, and what I spend money on… well it kinda freaked me out!

Here are five things I don’t want my husband to find out from our joint account:

How many books I buy 

When we were still dating and my husband came over, my bookshelf was something I proudly showed off to him. Look at me, look at how cultured, educated, socially aware, and intellectual I am.

Now that we are married, I think it’s starting to dawn on him that his wife spends more time buying books than reading them.

I just can’t help myself! I go online to buy a book, and as I make my purchase I see ‘If you like this book, you’ll also like X’. I click to see X, and the next thing I know I’m buying X, Y, Z. 

All these books, and the most cultured thing I say to my husband comes from Facebook and goes something like ‘Baby! Check out this new type of pizza that has another pizza on top of it!’

How much I spend to ‘look beautiful’ 

Ladies, I know you feel me. We spend tons of money to look the way we look! I pay to get my hair, nails, and eye brows done. Plus all the products required for my hair, face, and body. I mean, there’s a pre-moisturiser that you apply before your actual moisturiser, and a leave-on conditioner that goes after the conditioner. And all the oils. So. Many. Oils.

On top of that, I pay for two gym memberships AND those online shopping ads get me every time! My recent purchase was a silicone cup thingy that’s meant to get rid of cellulite. Try explaining that to your partner when he asks what you’ve just bought!

I’d love for my husband to think I look the way I look ‘effortlessly’. That I just wake up this way. But he could take one look at our joint account and easily realise this is not the case.

Then how I ‘trash’ the above with my impulse chocolate purchases

I don’t think I need to expand on this. I might be PMSing or it’s one of those afternoons that require a pick-me-up.

While I can get rid of the wrapper, the words ‘Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups’ will forever be imprinted on our joint account.

How lazy I am 

With two gym memberships, you’d think I was fit enough to be training for the Olympics. Well, what you’d find on our joint account is the countless times that I’ve ordered an Uber to avoid a 7-minute walk.

How much coffee I consume

I’ve always taken pride in the fact that I was able to give up coffee for a couple of years. It seems those glory days are behind me, and I have ventured back to my old ways.

I’m not proud to have $4 show up every day on our joint account as evidence of my addiction. Thankfully the free cookie they give with every coffee order doesn’t show up on the account 😉


So that’s my list of shame.

What’s on your list?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Of Peas instead

It’s time to move on to something healthier than fries, so my hubby and I have started a new blog: Two Peas Do Life

Your support on my blog has been overwhelming, and I’d love to have you follow me into the next chapter of my life!

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Crash into me

Please follow my new blog 🙂

A Thoughtler

I watch the waves and think about how they have a life of their own, I imagine they are creatures trying to swallow me in.

“Do you think it’s exciting”, I ask, “to know that the tide can get to us at any minute and yet still sit here and take that risk?”

He ponders the question for a bit and says “Yeah, I think so. It is kinda exciting. Why do you ask?”

I take another sip of wine from the plastic cup, keeping my gaze on the approaching waves.

“I think that’s what having an affair feels like. You know it’s going to end, but you don’t know exactly when. Every moment feels like a stolen moment and it’s thrilling.”

“Is that why people do it? For the thrill?”

“Why did you come here to this beach tonight?”

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“Well, did you come here…

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Of fries and the other blog

Hi guys 

I wanted to let you know that I’ve started another blog, to cover the general life topics that don’t get covered in this blog.

Would love for you to check it out 🙂 

Here it is: A Thoughtler

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You know what, as a society we’ve become so cautious of ‘body shaming’ that a girl can’t even complain about her own looks without being accused of being insensitive and body shaming! Here’s a common scenario I face: Me: Ugh, my thighs have gotten so big I need to get back to the gym Female […]

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A conversation

I see you got married.

That’s right, I did.

You look happy.

I am.

You even wore a fucking pink dress.

What are you so angry about?

What am I so angry about? Really? You betrayed everything that we are, and you’re asking me why I’m angry?

Look, I don’t expect you to get it. And there isn’t a ‘we’ anymore. There hasn’t been for a while.

Of course, I forgot you stopped giving a shit about me.

It’s not that I don’t give a shit about you, it’s just we’re so different now.

I feel like I don’t even know you anymore.

Well, you’re probably right, you don’t know me.

I just can’t believe you would throw everything away. Everything I created.

Everything you created? What did you actually create? You are a master of destruction. I only started to create something after I walked away from you.

Hah, you’re still stubborn, at least that didn’t change. We had big plans. And you ruined it. You ruined everything.

Oh really? I ruined your big plan? What was that big plan again.. oh that’s right, you were going to hang around for someone who wasn’t yours, push everyone away, and keep looking for the next place and person. I don’t want that life.

But you did.

Not anymore.

You sound upset. Are you angry at me?

I guess I am.

Why?

For being so stupid.

And I’m angry at you.

Why?

For forgetting me.

I didn’t forget you. I can never forget you. You were a big part of my life.

Then how come we don’t talk anymore?

Because, I don’t want your influence.

And I didn’t want your influence, but that didn’t stop you, did it?

Things are better now. I love my life. Having you around would just ruin it for me.

You don’t get it do you?

What?

Your life is great now because of me. I dated the people that weren’t meant for you. I lived in cities that weren’t right for you. I took that shot and inhaled that smoke so that you don’t have to. Your life is a direct result of mine. And instead of thanking me for your life, all you do is ignore me and pretend I don’t exist. Guess what, I do exist. I’m there every time you look into the mirror. You can’t escape me.

I get it. You’re right, I owe you a thank you, and an apology. I’m sorry I’ve been pretending you never existed. Thank you for not loving your life, so that I could love mine.

Thank you, I appreciate you saying that. Look, I’m not here to bother you. I’m glad you’re happy, I really am. A part of me always wanted this for us.

I know.

Can I tell you something else?

Sure.

I always knew we’d look good in pink.

(A conversation with my past self)

woman-looking-in-mirror

I Pretend..

Dug out another old piece.. Sadness was such a great fuel for my writing. I’m too darn happy now – I wonder if I can ever write like this again?

———————————————————————-

I pretend..
that I am fine..
that the knife stuck inside my heart is a mere decoration..
that I am invincible and unaffected by all things..

I ignore..
this brokenness deep inside of me..
the urge to call you and tell you how much I hurt
the ghost of you that follows me like a shadow..

I smile..
As a disguise
while fighting back the tears bottled up inside
Like a sad clown

I hide..
The wounds, the scars, the cracks
the blood stains seeping from my bleeding heart..
alone under my covers and enter into a dream..

I dream
Of a better day
Of someone who sees into dark corners of my mind
and loves what he finds

I learn
that heartbreaks do heal
That with every ending comes a new beginning
Even butterflies need to struggle before they can fly

I see
love all around me
in a smile, in a song
on a train

I know
love is out there
Under the big blue sky
waiting to find me

 

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Of Fries and How To Be In The Relationship of Your Dreams (3 of 3)

Lesson #1 here. Lesson #2 here.

Lesson #3 Embracing the ‘V’ Word

Get your mind out of the gutter, guys. The ‘V’ word I’m talking about here is Vulnerability. Did anyone have some kind of physical reaction just from seeing this word? For me, this word makes my stomach churn. After so many failed relationships, it was way easier to put up a guard.

In the last couple of years, I only allowed myself to be in casual relationships, or relationships that I knew had no future. This way, I could still keep my guard. I didn’t have to be exposed to potentially being heartbroken, since I knew the relationships weren’t going to work out anyway.

But you know what happens when you keep your guard up? Sure, I managed to block out the ‘hurt’, but it also meant that the positive stuff got blocked out. My guard prevented me from melting when the men I dated showered me with compliments. It stopped me from spending the night cuddled up in their arms. And the biggest thing – it stopped me from opening up my heart and letting love in.

When a friend suggested that perhaps I should try being “vulnerable”, I almost threw up. Really – it felt like she had just punched me in the gut. No – actually, it felt worse. It was like she reached down to my guts and pulled the whole damn thing out! Being vulnerable? This word was never ever in my dictionary. How the hell does a person be vulnerable? I decided to ask the internet, and that was pretty much the question I typed into google. A TED talk by Brene Brown came up. By the way if you guys haven’t seen it, you totally should.

She describes vulnerability as the willingness to say, “I love you” first… the willingness to invest in a relationship that may or may not work out.

Yikes. Another punch in the gut. I hated the sound of all of it.

But the truth is…  here I was, wanting to be in love.. and so I thought to myself: if this V word is the key, then I’ll freakin’ try it out.

And I did.

The first thing I did was sign up to an online dating site. It was one of those real deal we-help-you-find-true-love dating sites where you had to pay and answer like a hundred questions.

Now, to some of you that might not seem like a big deal. But for me – someone who takes pride in showing the world that she’s tough and doesn’t need love – this was equivalent to admitting defeat. Hello, vulnerability!

I didn’t find love via an online dating site. (You can read about how I found love here if you haven’t already). But it played a huge part in helping me embrace the V word, and that’s what led me to finding love.

When I tell people the story of how I asked my boyfriend out, the common response is “Wow, you’re so brave!”

I can assure you that it wasn’t bravery. It was vulnerability – the willingness to put myself out there, despite knowing that there’s a chance I might get rejected.  And boy am I glad I took that risk!

So what about you guys – where are you at with embracing the V word?

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We Are Meant To Be, For the Weekend

I found this piece of writing about a past lover while digging through old files. Surprisingly, I’ve never shared it, so I’m sharing it now. I love the sentiment in which it’s written. Let me know what you think.

————————————————————————

I don’t ask who you were talking to on the phone. I don’t ask about the unopened gift box on the table – who is it for, or who is it from. I don’t ask you anything, except for the occasional ‘Are you hungry’ There’s really no point in asking, no point in knowing. What does it matter to me how you spend your time or who you spend it with? I am only here to keep you company, and I do exactly that – not more.

I lay in your arms, all curled up like a ball. You smile at me and say I look like a tiny kitten. You kiss my forehead and begin to tell me a story. This one is about a boy who goes out in search of his dreams. He has to go through many obstacles and follow the signs to get to his dreams. You tell me about ‘maktub’ and how it’s an Arabic saying for ‘it is written’. You explain that everything has been written and is meant to happen as it is. I wonder if you know what’s written for you and me, but I don’t ask, of course.

I love the sound of your voice, the way your accent makes everything sound sensual. How you casually drop French words into your conversation. You must know the effect it has on me. I especially love how your eyes light up when you tell stories. And how you paint such vivid pictures when you describe the people you knew and the places you visited. Even when you talk about your past lovers. You refer to them with immense affection and adoration. I can’t help but wonder if you would ever talk about me in such a way – even if we were never lovers.

You notice that I’m deep in thought, and ask if I’m tired of listening to your stories. I flash my best smile at you and reassure you I never get tired of your stories and that I love listening to you. You smile again and I suddenly have this urge to kiss you. I act on it, but only halfway, leaning towards you and planting a quick peck on your left cheeks.  You don’t ask me what I’m thinking about. Just like I never ask you.

I close my eyes and allow myself to relax, resting my head on your shoulders. Something builds up inside me and I am forced to blurt it out. ‘Will you miss me?, I ask. I know I shouldn’t ask, but sometimes my curiosity gets the better of me. ‘Of course’, you say, planting a reassuring kiss on my forehead. I don’t know if it’s true, and it doesn’t matter. It’s what I want to hear, and I’m happy to hear it.

That’s how it is. You say things I want to hear, and I do the same to you. We don’t talk about feelings or unresolved matters. We don’t even acknowledge them. We live in our own bubble world where there’s no need for questions or answers. No plans, no promises, no expectations. No rules, no ifs, no buts. We just are. We exist only in this moment, and we don’t go anywhere near the ‘next’ moment. The future doesn’t exist as far as we’re concerned.

We spend most of the time cracking jokes and laughing at ourselves. We make fun of movies.  We make funny sounds and imitate people’s accents. We watch funny cat videos and South park re-runs. We talk about Greek mythology and Spanish bullfighting and World War Two. We go out to bars and try all the drinks on the menu. We sing out loud on the streets. We go for dinners, too, but never anywhere that has a dress code. We enjoy the mere pleasure of each other’s company, without giving a thought as to where it will lead to.

Sometimes I see loneliness in your eyes, and I’m sure you see sadness in mine. But we never talk about it. I cannot make you less lonely, and you cannot make me less sad. I never aspire to be what you want, and you can never be what I need. I will not give you my heart, nor will I take yours. So we just be. Without thinking. Without trying. Without discussion. Tomorrow the sun will come up and we both will go our separate ways.

woman

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