Love isn’t a Financial Plan: Let’s Talk about Strangers
One of the only downsides of relying on the library is that I'm always reading books long after everyone else has moved on. Which means that when I finally got around to reading Strangers (thank you to everyone who recommended it!), I knew we had to talk about it here. So yes, I'm about eight months late to the conversation, but better late than never.
If you haven't read it, Strangers is Belle Burden's memoir about the unraveling of her twenty-year marriage. On the surface, it's a story about love, loss, and betrayal. But as I read, I voraciously marked passage after passage because it's also a masterclass in the silent financial dynamics that shape so many relationships.
What struck me most was how easily we can slide into financial patterns that feel loving, practical, or even generous in the moment. Patterns that slowly become invisible and default until something forces us to see them differently.
Without further ado, let's dive in.
Avoidance has a cost.
Throughout the memoir, Belle repeatedly describes looking away from uncomfortable financial conversations and trusting her husband to handle them. One example that particularly stood out to me was their prenuptial agreement.
As her husband's career took off, he encouraged her to leave her own career and devote herself to raising their children and supporting the family. She also genuinely wanted that life and found deep fulfillment in it. But they never updated their prenup to reflect the enormous economic value of her unpaid labor. Under the original agreement (which she signed against the advice of her attorney!) any wealth her husband accumulated during the marriage remained his. Belle later realized she hadn't fully understood what was at stake or how dependent she had become on his "generosity" rather than being protected by the legal agreement itself.
It's easy to read this and think, I would never do that. But avoidance rarely feels dramatic in the moment. It often looks like postponing an uncomfortable conversation, assuming everything will work itself out, or trusting that someone else is handling it.
Avoiding financial conflict may preserve peace today, but it can easily come at the expense of your own and your family's future financial security.
Love isn't a financial plan.
One of the reasons this book is so powerful is that Belle doesn't portray her husband as some obvious villain from the very beginning. She loved him. She trusted him. She genuinely believed he wanted what was best for her. This is why I think it's such an important story to tell!
There is a real disservice in the idea that love is an appropriate replacement for financial awareness. You can love and trust your partner deeply and still insist on engaging on the big-picture financial decisions that affect your life.
Defaulting to love over financial awareness cost Belle immense stress, fear, and anxiety for herself and her children when her ex suddenly chose to leave.
Protection and control can look surprisingly similar.
Toward the end of the book, Belle writes about wanting to become completely financially independent from her ex. It was extremely intimidating for her, as someone who had never done that in her adult life.
For years, she described feeling financially protected by her husband. But after the marriage ended, she realized that what had once felt like protection had also meant being controlled. She, and only she, had to justify and explain every line item and expense to him. What initially felt protective she realized was extremely suffocating and controlling. When she eventually decided to take charge of her own financial situation she felt immensely empowered and free. I see this a lot in many of my clients and it's a good reminder that it's never too late to take ownership of your finances!
Privilege doesn't eliminate financial vulnerability.
It's impossible to discuss this memoir without acknowledging the extraordinary wealth surrounding it. Belle Burden is an heiress. Her husband managed a hedge fund. The homes, vacations, and lifestyles described throughout the book are worlds away from most people's realities.
This is particularly interesting because it shows us that money doesn't magically eliminate unequal power dynamics in relationships. Financial privilege doesn't exempt anyone from cultural expectations about gender, caregiving, or who "handles the money." If anything, the stakes simply become much larger.
I'll admit, there was also something undeniably fascinating about getting a glimpse into that world. (Who knew a private beach key could cost $300,000? Seriously.)
The numbers are wild but the relationship dynamics are surprisingly relatable.
Whether your household has $100,000 or $30 million, the lesson is the same: love is not a replacement for financial awareness.
Have you read Strangers? I'd love to hear what you thought. Did you walk away with the same financial takeaways, or did something entirely different stand out to you? Email hello@financesforfeminists.com and let me know.