A notification popped up with the not unwelcome news that £500 had been transferred to my bank account.

Startled, I went to see where this generous deposit of cash came from. “Love you,” the note accompanying the cash injection read. It was from my boyfriend, returning the money (and then some) I’d transferred him for paying for stuff on holiday. He felt bad that I had recently lost my job and was worried I wouldn’t be able to make rent the following month. While he’s not affluent himself, he wanted to save me from dipping into my savings to fund my life while I figured out my next career move. I swiftly returned the money (though it would have been really, really nice to keep it).

Now, having returned from the pre-booked holiday that proved to be more expensive than I’d anticipated, and without a full-time job, I find myself not only navigating my own finances but also a relationship where one of us isn’t working. 

Losing a job can feel like having the rug pulled from beneath you. It can leave you feeling insecure, disheartened and down in the dumps. And this drastic change in behaviour can impact your relationship. Recently, I rewatched Love Life (season 1 with Anna Kendrick), where Darby’s husband, Magnus, suddenly loses his job, changing his demeanour entirely. He becomes aloof, rude and nonchalant with Darby’s money (splashing $300 on a bottle of champagne). This change signals the beginning of the end of their relationship. When we live in a world where our work dictates so much of who we are, losing our profession can feel like an undoing of ourselves. And that can make or break relationships.

“For a lot of us, our identities are wrapped up in what we do for a job,” says Holly Roberts, a relationship counsellor at counselling agency Relate. “The work that we do often gives us purpose as well as helping us earn a living. Your sense of self-esteem or self-worth may be knocked, you may start to feel anxious about money and the worries could be overwhelming. Turning to your partner would be an obvious source of support, but this may not always be possible if they aren’t aware of everything that you are going through.”

So it’s easy for them to assume the wrong thing. While well-intentioned, putting £500 into my account was a sweet gesture, but unnecessary on my boyfriend’s part. For others, it might be apt. Ultimately, it depends on the person and situation. “Sometimes we have to ask clearly what we need from our partners,” says Roberts. “We will need to help them to help us. Your partner may have lots of great ideas on how to fix the situation, but if you don’t want ‘fixing’ then see if you can find the bravery to share what would be most useful for you.”

Thankfully, I have my partner’s emotional and physical support during this time – but I won’t be accepting his financial help, for now at least. This isn’t a staunch feminist stance where I feel I can earn my own money and don’t need to rely on a man (though this is true), but more the fact that I simply don’t want anyone else’s money, and I trust myself to secure some other form of income. Of course, there’s privilege in that, especially during a cost of living crisis which has left many of us worse off, and don’t get me wrong, I am stressed about money - but I also don’t want to owe anyone. For others, talk of money and admitting financial hardship can come with feelings of awkwardness and reluctance. But it’s important we do so, says psychologist Nova Cobban.

“Try to approach the conversation openly and when time is available. Open and honest communication is often tricky when it comes to money and can involve shifting dynamics around identity and power which change the relationship and can feel very unsettling.

“Ideally, of course, there would be open and honest dialogue without judgment.

“It might be that the other person offers you money for a time or even regularly. Make sure you communicate all your fears on both sides around this too. It can be extremely hard for the person without an income to be in this position, and within a healthy relationship the emphasis needs to be on continuing communication rather than using money as a weapon to express your fears or thoughts.”

Of course, things might be a bit different if you live together (which is not the case for my boyfriend and me). This complicates things, as one person might have to put in more than the other. Roberts adds: “Living with your partner may add extra pressure if they then start to worry about your shared financial security. Try to tackle the problem together. If it is something you approach as a couple, then you are working as a team to help support each other – this shouldn’t leave you feeling isolated or shouldering a burden on your own.”

If you both live together, it might be useful to break down exactly how things are going to work going forward. Cobban advises: “Look at what each of you wants and needs moving forward. What are the expectations you have? Look at your expectations around how time will be spent, how money will be spent and what the next steps and options might be.

“If one of you expects that the other will step in and cover the financial loss, how long are they prepared to do that for? To what degree? Will they expect to have a say in how money is spent? You may also need to have conversations about what might change. If you are no longer going to be able to pay for your weekly date night, talk about that!”

Ultimately, your partner loves and supports you, so it’s worth having those necessary conversations on how things will change and what you’re comfortable with. I know that in future I can ask my boyfriend for money. But for now, be it pride, be it independence or just an unwavering belief in my own credibility, I know I’ve got myself covered. 

Images: Getty