Some weeks life just… piles up. That’s where I am right now.
Job applications. Family meetings about mom’s estate. Taking over dad’s bills. Planning one more road trip with him. Leading a small group on Saturdays through my church. And juggling an ever changing roster of clients and projects. All at once.
So let’s talk money. Because every single one of these things touches it.
The job hunt is still on.
I’m still sending out applications. Still doing interviews. Still waiting to hear back more than I’d like. It’s slow. It’s a little discouraging some days. But I keep showing up to it, because income is income, and right now I need every bit I can bring in.
I’m grateful for the clients who keep coming back.
This is the part I don’t say out loud enough. My long time clients… the ones who’ve known me for years… they keep coming back to me. Some months it’s only 2 hours a week. Other months it jumps up to 20 hours. It’s not steady. It’s not big. But it’s paying the bills and helping me continue to save.
That kind of loyalty is its own kind of income. Not just dollars. Trust, too. I don’t take it for granted.
Estate planning.
We sat down this past weekend as a family about mom’s estate.
That was a hard conversation. Not because anyone was fighting. Just because talking about what’s left behind… and what dad wants for his own future… makes everything feel real in a way it wasn’t before.
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We didn’t solve it all in one sitting. Nobody does. But we got some things written down. Recorded the whole conversation so there is no discrepancy in what was said and what someone heard. Some decisions were made. That matters more than I expected it to.
I’m the one paying dad’s bills now.
This one snuck up on me. One month I was just helping him check a statement. Now I’m the one logging in, setting up autopay, watching the due dates. It’s a lot of responsibility. It’s also a way of loving him, if that makes sense. Paying attention to his money is paying attention to him.
He agreed that he needs the financial oversight now. All the siblings have a few of it. And my brother who works in finance will be providing oversight and advice on investments…working with dad, not me. I’m just responsible for the day to day bill and documentation. That’s a good thing, even when it’s tiring.
Road tripping with dad.
We’re planning a road trip. His last high school reunion.
His class decided to retire the reunion after this year because the class itself is done gathering. So this is the last one. Ever.
We are going to stop along the way and see his old friends, his sister, etc. After the 9 years he’s dedicated to taking care of mom, this is his freedom flight. And he’s looking forward to it, and dreading it, all at the same time.
Here’s the thing though. Dad is paying for this trip. Every dollar of it. Gas, hotel, meals, all of it comes out of his pocket, not mine. My job is different. His eye doctor gave him a firm warning a while back. No long drives. Definitely no driving at night.
So I’m the driver. And the support in case he gets sick or has pain (an all too common occurence these days.) I’m there so he can just sit back, watch the miles go by, and get to see his old classmates one more time without worrying about the road himself. That’s my part in this. Not the money. The miles.
And I’m still teaching.
Small groups. Church. No paycheck attached to any of it. But it fills me up in a way a paycheck can’t. It reminds me that not everything I give my time to has to show up on a bank statement to count.
Here’s what I keep coming back to.
Money isn’t just numbers on a screen right now. It’s dad’s independence. It’s honoring mom. It’s one more trip with my father while he can still make the drive, even if someone else has to be behind the wheel. It’s showing up for people at church even when my own bank account is stretched thin. And it’s remembering that a client who keeps coming back, even for just a couple hours some weeks, is a gift I shouldn’t rush past.
I don’t have this all figured out. But I’m watching every dollar closer than I ever have. Because right now, every dollar is doing something that actually matters.
When couples share a home and a child, separate finances aren’t always as separate as they seem—especially when one partner is using credit cards to cover shared household expenses. Slava Dumchev/Shutterstock
My husband and I were recently talking with a friend who has started dating again after a divorce. He shared some of the struggles of dating in midlife, and my husband tried to reassure him by pointing out everything he has going for him.
He owns a home. He has a paid-off car, no debt, and a good-paying job.
Those facts alone apparently make him a unicorn in the dating desert in our area.
We laughed, but the conversation got me thinking about how much finances matter when choosing a partner. It’s easy to focus on whether someone is kind, funny, attractive, or emotionally available. But at this stage of life, we aren’t exactly starting with blank financial slates. People may enter relationships with homes, retirement accounts, children, student loans, credit card balances, or financial obligations from a previous marriage.
So what happens when you meet someone you love….and then learn that person has a mountain of debt? Is that a deal-breaker?
That was the situation facing a recent caller to The Ramsey Show. Matthew and his fiancée live together, share an 18-month-old daughter, and each have a car loan. They’re engaged but have not combined their finances. Matthew knew his fiancée had some credit card debt, but he apparently did not realize the balance had grown to $75,000.
Yes. $75,000 in credit card debt.
Some of the balance existed before their relationship, while more accumulated after her work situation changed and their daughter was born. Matthew also discovered that necessities like formula and diapers were going onto cards and not being paid off each month.
This all begs the question: When does your partner’s financial problem become your problem?
How did the Debt Get So High?
According to Matthew, his fiancée had previously worked as much as 70 hours a week before cutting back substantially. Her income dropped, but her spending habits apparently did not.
Her employment was also interrupted during her pregnancy when her workplace closed for renovations. That seems to be when the credit card balances really started to snowball. I don’t share those details to excuse the debt. There is clearly a major problem when someone accumulates $75,000 in credit card balances without their partner knowing about it (or not knowing the full extent).
But the backstory does matter.
This wasn’t $75,000 spent on designer purses and luxury vacations. At least some of the money paid for ordinary household expenses and necessities for their baby. That doesn’t make the debt less real, but it does make the situation more complicated than “she spends too much.” Because the couple kept their finances separate, Matthew apparently didn’t know how often she was using the cards…or that some of the purchases were for expenses they arguably should have been sharing.
The situation is especially expensive because credit cards remain one of the costliest forms of consumer debt, with Federal Reserve data showing cards assessed interest averaged about 22% earlier in 2026. At that rate, a $75,000 balance could generate enormous interest charges if the couple cannot aggressively reduce the principal.
Separate Finances…Sort Of
Matthew and his fiancée may have separate finances on paper, but their lives are already deeply intertwined. They live together. They share a young child. They are engaged. Each also owes approximately $13,000 on a vehicle.
They became engaged this summer but had not set a wedding date because they wanted to marry in the Catholic Church. This has put them in an unusual in-between situation: They function as a family in many ways, but they have not combined their finances or gained the legal protections that come with marriage.
The Ramsey hosts pointed out that the $75,000 technically belongs to Matthew’s fiancée. Matthew’s personal debt is his car loan.
But I think that distinction becomes pretty murky when some of the borrowed money paid for diapers and formula for their shared child.
Were those really her expenses?
Matthew may not be legally responsible for paying the credit cards, but this isn’t entirely her financial problem, either. If one person is quietly using high-interest debt to cover shared household necessities, the entire household has a cash-flow problem. At minimum, the couple needs much more transparency about how their shared expenses are being paid.
Ramsey’s Team Gave Him Two Very Different Choices
The Ramsey team boiled Matthew’s options down to two very different paths.
First, the couple could remain financially separate until marriage. Matthew would focus on paying off his own $13,000 car loan, while his fiancée would be responsible for her credit cards and vehicle loan.
Or they could legally marry sooner, combine their finances, and attack all of the debt together. Even if they waited to have the larger church celebration.
I understand the logic behind those choices. If they intend to build a life together, they eventually need to decide whether they are operating as two separate individuals or as a financial team.
But I’m not entirely convinced these are the only options.
There is a lot of space between immediately assuming responsibility for someone else’s $75,000 balance and saying, “Well, your name is on the cards. Good luck with that!”
Matthew could help create a budget, make sure their shared expenses are divided more realistically, and support his fiancée as she works through the debt without immediately combining accounts or putting his name on anything. In fact, I would want to see some serious changes before combining finances.
Is she still using the cards? Does she fully understand how the debt accumulated? Are they willing to work together to change spending? Do they have a realistic repayment plan? Are they both finally being transparent about income, expenses, and debt? Getting married doesn’t magically fix any of those issues.
Being Engaged Doesn’t Automatically Make the Debt Yours
There is also an important legal distinction that can get lost in the emotional debate: getting engaged to someone generally does not automatically make you responsible for credit cards that are solely in that person’s name. The Consumer Financial Protection Bureau distinguishes between joint credit card holders and authorized users, and contractual responsibility for an account matters when determining who owes the creditor.
Even marriage does not automatically produce the same answer in every situation because state laws, joint accounts, co-signing, and other circumstances can affect liability. That is why someone facing a large partner-debt situation should understand exactly whose name appears on every account before transferring money, refinancing balances, or adding anyone as a joint borrower. “Should I help?” is a relationship question. “Am I legally required to pay?” is a different question entirely.
Paying Off the Cards Won’t Fix the Actual Problem
Let’s imagine Matthew suddenly came into $75,000 and wiped out every credit card tomorrow. The family could still end up right back in debt if nothing else changed.
His fiancée went from working extremely long hours to substantially fewer hours. Her workplace temporarily closed. She had a baby. Her income fell, but household expenses continued, and some probably increased.
Those circumstances are understandable. But the math still has to work. Formula, diapers, groceries, childcare, and utilities don’t disappear when the credit cards are cut up. Before either partner starts throwing money at the balances, they need to understand their combined monthly income, necessary household expenses, minimum debt payments, and how much money is realistically available for repayment.
They also need to decide who is responsible for which household expenses (or have a plan for paying shared household expenses). Otherwise, Matthew could be diligently paying his car loan while his fiancée continues charging diapers because she doesn’t have enough money left to buy them.
That’s not really “separate finances.” That’s a communication failure disguised as separate finances.
I would also be cautious about refinancing or consolidating the debt before the underlying problem is addressed. A lower interest rate could help on the short-term, but it could also free up the credit cards to be charged again.
The credit cards may legally belong to Matthew’s fiancée, but the financial problem is bigger than the names on the accounts. They share a home, a child, and (presumably) plans for a future together. Before they combine finances (or decide to keep them separate) they need to understand how shared expenses are being paid, how the debt grew so large, and what both of them are willing to change. To me, the lack of communication is almost as concerning as the $75,000 balance itself.
Would $75,000 in credit card debt be a deal-breaker for you? What would you need to see before combining finances with someone carrying that much debt?
