I always thought the hardest part of marriage would be learning to share space. But I was wrong. A week after our wedding, my husband Matt surprised me with news that changed everything: my salary was going to go directly to his mother. I was stunned, but I wasn’t about to let myself become a victim of manipulation. I immediately started planning my next move.
Matt and I had been together for three years before marriage. He was a reliable, cheerful man whom I trusted completely. I’m a graphic designer, always independent, paying my own bills, and saving for the future.
So, when a few days after the wedding, we were sitting on the couch watching TV, and Matt suddenly said, “We need to talk about our finances,” I was caught off guard.
He smiled, but it was a strange, tense smile. “We’re going to transfer your salary to my mom. She’ll teach you how to spend it properly.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “What?”
“Yes,” he replied, sitting up as if he was about to make a presentation. “My mom has a system that’s worked for years. She’ll split your salary this way: 50% for you, 25% for household expenses, and 25% for family gifts.”
My stomach tightened. “You want me to give all my salary to your mom so she can decide how to spend it? And half of that goes to your personal expenses?”
Anger began to rise in me. “Matt, I don’t know who you think you’ve decided to spend your life with, but this is not happening. I’ve worked hard to be independent, and I’m not going to give that up just so your mother can control my life.”
I was in shock. The man I thought I knew had transformed into someone completely different.
These thoughts kept me awake all night. How could I not have seen this side of Matt? And what was going on with Linda, my mother-in-law?
The next morning, I made a decision: if Matt and Linda thought I would submit to their plan, they were mistaken. I told Matt with a faint smile, “I’ve thought about what you said yesterday. I’m not worried anymore. If your mom is so sure about her system, maybe it’s worth trying.”
At lunch, I transferred my salary to the joint account and made sure Matt saw the notification on his phone. I even wrote to Linda: “Hello Linda! I’m on board with your system. Let me know how I can help.”
The response came quickly: “I’m glad you’re willing to learn, dear. We’ll make you a real wife.”
But something still bothered me. Linda always boasted about her ability to save, but at the same time, she bought expensive things: luxury handbags, jewelry, the latest kitchen gadgets.
I decided to investigate. One day, while Matt was in the shower, I noticed his desk in the office. There was a notebook that looked familiar. It was the same type of notebook Linda used to track her expenses during one of her “lessons.”
I took the notebook and opened it. This confirmed my suspicions: Linda tracked her spending in detail, including branded items, credit card payments, and, most surprisingly, the money she had borrowed from us to cover her extravagant expenses.
By the end of the week, I was ready for the next step.
Matt came home with Linda. She entered the living room holding a file, as if she was about to present a financial report.
She opened the file and started talking about how she had divided my money. “50% goes to Matt for his personal expenses,” she said, looking at me with a meaningful glance.
“Oh, Linda. Before you continue,” I said, interrupting her, “I think we should talk about something.”
I pulled out my file. “This.”
I handed it to Matt, who began flipping through the pages. His face changed when he saw the credit card statements, the late payment notifications, and the photos of Linda’s luxury purchases.
Linda turned pale and then flushed bright red.
A tense silence filled the room. Linda jumped up from the couch, trembling. “You’re trying to turn my son against me!”
Matt looked at us with disbelief and sadness.
Linda turned bright red when a notification popped up on her phone. I had opened a new account in my name and transferred the salary back from the joint account. The bank notification appeared on her screen.
Linda grabbed her file and hurried out, muttering something under her breath, her heels clicking on the floor.
Matt sat there, head down, holding his face with his hands. “Sandra, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know…”
He looked up, his eyes filled with regret, and I saw a vulnerability in them that I had never noticed before. “You’re right. I was an idiot. I’m going to fix this. I promise.”