Hello again,
In my previous newsletter (read here), I talked about my short-lived period as a stay-at-home wife to my ex-husband and how it didn’t suit me personally, the circumstances of my very first business endeavor and much more...
Now let me tell you about:
- The financial details of what it’s like to be married into a higher socio-economic class when you’re from a lower economic class.
- The relationship dynamic I had with my ex-husband…
- How and WHY I went from a retired engineer to housewife to the kick-ass businesswoman I am today and how my first marriage played into it.
Some of you already know that I come from very humble beginnings. Single immigrant mom, grew up on very limited resources… but did very well in school, graduated from a top engineering school in the country (thanks to free universities in France).
By 29, when I met my first husband, I had a pretty decent salary as a junior engineer.
I exclusively dated rich men who would add value to my life, which raised my standard of living and revenue as a result.
I was sophisticated, cultured, and polished enough to be mistaken for a young Parisian lady who grew up in an upper socio-economic class.
I had been able to help my mother move to a nicer area, middle-class instead of social housing ( Ironically, that’s where she met her second husband ).
She had also leveled up financially and socially on her own, just by working hard and evolving professionally.
So when I married my ex-husband, I wasn’t a poor Cinderella entering the mesmerizing world of her savior Prince Charming.
I was accomplished and looked confident around wealth due to my previous relationships and my relationship with him.
I of course didn’t have a tenth of his resources, power, and status. But I was doing great compared to where I grew up.
By the time we started being committed to each other (about a year into the relationship), I was fully provided for by him.
It wasn’t because he was traditional or believed in “traditional gender roles” ( BTW: any man who leads with that is a walking red flag). He provided because he could, and also, to make my life easier. As his partner, he carried me into his lifestyle, and I wouldn’t have had it any other way.
Let me break down for you the details of what his provision entailed, but keep in mind that this was almost 20 years ago ( no Apple Pay, no wire transfers from a smartphone, no bank apps …)
- He had moved me to a nicer apartment that he paid for.
- He had gotten me a new car ( almost sure it was under his name)
- I had a credit card that I used sometimes for my personal expenses like shopping and beauty salons … (I was doing my own shopping back then )
- I had a signed checkbook with amounts over 1000$ that I would occasionally cash or pay for certain services like house cleaning agencies, furniture shopping, car-related expenses…
- He never gave me liquid money and I never asked.
- I never used his card for basic things like grocery shopping or things I could afford on my salary for the simple reason that it seemed tacky and I was too proud to do it.
- I had an account in certain department stores … (I would do the purchasing but the bill is sent to his “accountant”)
With the majority of my own expenses taken care of, I barely touched my salary. Which allowed me to make substantial savings.
As a result, I was able to help my mother even more, especially with my baby sister’s expenses.
I didn’t pay for the basics, her parents covered that.
But I could get my mother a weekly house cleaning service, nice furniture, paid for some professional courses, a nicer car, nice clothes for my mom and my baby sister, better daycare, interesting experiences, and vacations… you get the picture.
Of course, my mother “didn’t know” I had a boyfriend, to begin with (strict arab mom who wants to stay in denial) and my boyfriend ( who became my husband ) didn't know I supported my family (which I did willingly and voluntarily btw)
He obviously kind of knew but I never told him because I never talked about those things with him. It’s unnecessary. He grew up in an affluent family, with more than 3 generations of wealth. Not aristocracy or anything, but I knew that he wouldn’t relate to my family’s circumstances.
I was embarrassed that my family needed my financial support and too proud to admit to him that he was the only reason why I could do as much as I did.
I didn’t necessarily think he would have an opinion about it, I just didn’t want to shake the image he had of me (the image I curated).
As I mentioned earlier, when I met him, from the outside, I looked like a normal young lady who came from a normal middle-class family and advanced her social standing through her professional success.
Fast forward to getting married.
I quit my job. No more income on my own. Just some savings.
I naturally had more access to his resources, nonetheless, I couldn’t keep helping my family with the same freedom and discretion.
What normal people (including me back then ) don’t know about rich people is that money is rarely liquid. Cash money is for tips and small expenses.
For everything else, It’s checks, invoices, handshakes … and a few employees whose job is to handle your bills and manage the money, not in a patronizing way, but rather helpfully and transparently.
Here is a simple example :
If I go to a store, purchase a 5000 $ Chanel bag, and I pay by check or card.
Somewhere, there is an employee of ours who is going to go over that invoice, validate it, and categorize it without having to interact with me since it’s a straightforward and coherent purchase.
But if I go to the bank, make a transfer of 3000$ to my personal account or to my mother’s. The same employee would have to call me or my husband, to simply get more details about the transfer in order for him to do his job, which is to avoid fraudulent transactions and take care of fiscal matters, particularly as I was a new legal and official addition to my husband’s accounts.
So on a monthly or quarterly basis, I had to sit with an employee and go over my expenses to make sure they were done by me (remember this is way before biometric technology).
This could have been the case even if I was as wealthy as my husband, it’s wealth management 101. I just would have been used to it had I been born into a rich family.
My husband was generous, and very tactful with matters like these. I had no spending limit, no “wife” budget or allowance and I don’t think we ever talked about my spending habits.
He simply didn’t need to. I think he trusted my judgment since I was a highly educated woman, financially and fiscally responsible.
It was I who never wanted to disclose these matters in detail. I felt obligated to protect my pride and my family’s by extension.
Even though I was certain that my husband then wouldn’t care how much I spent and on what ( to a reasonable extent of course).
I mentally wasn’t comfortable with the fact that many people would know that much about my personal finances…and honestly, I am glad I operated that way.
As you may very well know, people gossip a lot. And I didn’t want to be stigmatized, judged, or even become a topic of conversation by anyone, particularly by my husband’s entourage and employees.
I was living in a new realm, ruled and organized differently. It was challenging enough for me to blend in amongst a very well-born social class.
Past a certain level in the socioeconomic hierarchy, kids don’t contribute directly to their parent’s financial ascension, it’s quite the opposite.
I was around what we now call “ trust fund “ kids. Some were hard-working and successful on their own, but they didn’t pay rent, mortgage, utility bills, car payments, or even their own shopping… Those are handled by the kind of employees I mentioned earlier and billed to some trust or company set by their families.
That’s actually why we get confused about the lavish lifestyle some people can afford to live despite their limited salaries. Most times, it’s the family who, willingly carries the cost. It’s somewhat standard in those circles.
Knowing that my husband probably grew up like that before he became “ financially independent” ( which is a rich people’s way of saying that he rose beyond his family’s wealth), i preferred to keep my family dynamic to myself.
I looked confident, but my internal feelings rarely reflected my outer attitude ( I knew how to conceal my state of mind impeccably … )
I never shied away from my past or my modest upbringing (But I curated it a bit), I was very proud of my family and never excluded them from my new reality as the “wife of “.
But also, I never wanted to be in a situation where I could feel belittled because of the financial disparity between my family and my husband.
All this, in addition to the existential dread I began feeling after quitting my job… starting a business was the evident solution if I wanted to keep a certain financial autonomy and the image I worked hard for.
A profitable business, no matter how small it is, would grant me some sort of revenue and give me back the monetary sovereignty and privacy I needed. Needless to say, it’s a significant safety net.
So I had many talks with my husband, his lawyer, and his business manager… and I finally found what I thought was the most suited business venture for me.
Fully funded by my husband of course ( technically the bank). We both had equity in it, but I had executive management power, which entitled me to a pretty nice salary I fixed myself + some benefits.
This was my second lesson in business: Pay yourself first, literally and on paper.
The first one was: Always to use the bank for startup capital. That’s how rich people shield their personal money from some of the financial liabilities their businesses could face in their infancy years.
In an attempt to keep this newsletter concise and relatively short, I will end this part here.
Stay tuned for the next part where I will dive deeper into my first business venture, its failures, and its successes, how I ended up FULLY owning that little hotel years after we divorced…
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Céline, with love ❤
I am Celine Gray
I write (anonymously) about everything I learned from 25+ years of dating up and marrying up (twice).
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Céline, with love ❤
