'I trusted my husband with our finances. Then I learnt what he did with my parents' will.'

If you want to support independent women's media, become a Mamamia subscriber. Get an all-access pass to everything we make, including exclusive podcasts, articles, videos and our exercise app, MOVE.

*Names changed to protect identity.

Recently, I asked Mamamia readers to share their divorce stories. The responses were overwhelming and deeply personal.

They also formed a pattern. A pattern of two words, repeated by so many. Two words that affect one in six women in Australia: financial abuse.

In 2023, the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS) released a Personal Safety Survey involving 9.9 million women. It found 16 per cent (1.6 million) of women, since the age of 15, had experienced economic abuse (a broader form of financial abuse) by a cohabiting partner.

For millions of Australian women, financial abuse is a reality. Here, three women share their stories, anonymously.

How the warning signs of financial abuse started.

Tessa*

Tessa was 15 when she met Michael*, 22, at a skin clinic. After six weeks of treatment for acne, he asked her out.

The pair were married eight years later. Then, as they prepared to welcome their first child, Tessa's parents tragically died.

While the grieving daughter received an inheritance, she told Michael she wanted to leave it alone.

"I didn't want to gain anything from it. I just wanted it to sit there," she told Mamamia.

Tessa left her job and the family lived off Michael's salary. He alone was in charge of what they did with it.

"I didn't have a say on anything regarding the house. Everything we'd purchase was his decision," Tessa said, explaining she tried to justify the arrangement. Michael worked in finance; he knew what was best for the family.

Michael was the only one who knew their banking passwords. He had control over every account.

Tessa was left with access to just a single account — the one she had opened at 15 for her first casual job.

Each week, the stay-at-home mum would receive an "allowance" from Michael. About $100-$200.

She could only spend the money with his permission.

"I had no independence to purchase something without him being aware of it," Tessa said.

She quickly learned to be frugal, only using the allowance for groceries and necessities.

"I wouldn't spend any money on myself," she said. "I knew it would be a problem, so I didn't even try."

Nadia*

With her husband Samuel* working long hours, Nadia put her 20-year teaching career on hold.

Unlike Tessa, Nadia was left in charge of most financial decisions.

"It used to really stress me that I would have to make the final call," Nadia told Mamamia. "If things went wrong, I could be blamed."

Soon after their baby arrived, Samuel had a "big idea" to make money. This time, he took charge.

"Without my consent, he bought into a business to the value of nearly $200,000," Nadia said. "He borrowed some of that money off his dad and he also got a loan."

Financially, it was a mistake. Samuel left the business and suffered a "nervous breakdown."

This occurred around the same time Nadia lost her father and had come into an inheritance.

As she watched Samuel's mental health deteriorate, Nadia decided his need was greater than hers.

"I was like, 'we can use this money for you to start your own business,'" she recalled telling her husband. "I loved him and supported him."

Brooke*

When Brooke started dating Peter*, she soon noticed their different upbringings. Peter was traditional, she was not.

"I think (his) idea of a wife was exactly what his mother was," she told Mamamia.

From the start of their relationship, Brooke was the "primary earner". And when Peter was retrenched from his job, he would make excuses about finding a new role.

As a shift-worker, Brooke relied on her husband to visit the bank to pay their bills. He owned the responsibility to the point of possession. 

He also kept track of Brooke's spending. One day, after a short shift, she went to the shops to buy clothing for their kids. Five minutes into the drive home, she received a call.

"What did you just spend $50 on?" he demanded.

"Things for the kids," she replied, perplexed.

Brooke, Nadia, and Tessa didn't know it at the time, but they were all victims of financial abuse.

Financial abuse can take many forms. Image: Getty.

What is financial abuse exactly?

To get a better understanding of financial abuse, I spoke to two experts: Sarah Abood, the CEO of the Financial Advice Association Australia (FAAA), and Caroline Stewart, the CEO of the Ecstra Foundation.

According to Abood, financial abuse is the use of money to control, harm, or limit a victim's independence. It can involve hiding financial information, restricting account access, or taking out loans in their name.

Financial abuse is notoriously challenging to identify.

"Many victims may not even realise they are being abused," Abood said. "Especially if the abuse is subtle, or, if it occurs within familial relationships where trust is implicitly granted."

Watch: Women share their stories of financial abuse. Post continues after video.

Escaping the trap.

Tessa

When Michael refused to let Tessa return to university, she knew it was time to leave.

The first time she asked for a divorce, Michael threatened to take his own life. 

So, she stayed for two years, and slept in a separate room. 

Eventually, Michael agreed to a separation. But he didn't make it easy.

"I was trying to save money for rent, but he had full access to my account," Tessa shared.

Desperate, her mind wandered to her parent's inheritance; untouched for a reason, but her last hope.

One morning, at 3am, Tessa snuck into the study while Michael was sleeping.

She managed to find the account password. With shaking hands, she logged in.

"I had never internet banked, and I was moving $250,000."

A few petrifying clicks later. The money was hers.

"I felt like I'd beat him," she said.

Tessa and her kids moved into a new home after her solicitor notified Michael they were leaving.

But the reprieve was fleeting.

After hiring a forensic accountant for what would become an "extremely messy" court case, Tessa found out what happened to the remainder of her inheritance.

While alive, Tessa's parents made Michael a joint executor of their will, trusting him because he worked in finance.

"I found out when we were divorcing he had traded that money and lost quite a lot of it in the Global Financial Crisis," Tessa said.

Suddenly, the memory of Michael "dry reaching into the toilet" one morning during the GFC wasn't as confusing to Tessa.

"I learned a lot the hard way," she said.

Nadia

After providing the backing for Samuel's new business, Nadia started working there part-time, "doing the books".

"It was probably a bad decision," she said. "I didn't realise things were as bad as they were until it was too late."

The businesses' debts accumulated.

Samuel believed the only solution was to remortgage the house, but Nadia wasn't convinced.

"He lost his s–t," she said, explaining he was not open to other options such as liquidating.

Desperate, the mother called the small business debt helpline, where she heard eight unforgettable words.

"You realise what you're describing is financial abuse?"

Nadia was stunned.

That conversation changed Nadia's life. Image: Getty.

"My world came crashing down," she said.

Samuel "lost the plot" when he found out his wife had called the helpline.

He took their child to his side of the family and told Nadia he'd only return after she signed the remortgage paperwork.

"He withheld my child from me under the guise to his family that I was going insane, and it wasn't safe for my kid to come home," Nadia said.

She was backed into a corner. Desperate, she obliged when Samuel booked her into a mental health centre. 

During her stay, it was a nurse who convinced Nadia she was in the wrong place. She directed her to the domestic violence helpline.

Nadia dialled the number. Here, the helpline worker shared a dark truth with Nadia.

"I've had four situations in the last year when men are still trying to put their women in institutions," they told her.

At that moment, Nadia realised the truth of her relationship.

To pay off their debts, she agreed to remortgage the house.

But she kept an ace up her sleeve.

"We had about $30,000 left, and he kept pressuring me [to transfer it]," she said. "I was holding out because I knew once it's in the business, it's gone."

She sought legal advice. And they came up with a plan.

With the remaining money, Nadia paid their kids' school fees upfront (despite Samuel's objections). Then, she transferred the remaining $20,000 to herself.

Her husband was livid.

"It was survival. I realised if I don't move, I've got no chance. I would be trapped in that marriage," she said.

Brooke

After he suffered a workplace injury that affected his brain, Peter "became intolerable" towards Brooke.

"The financial abuse was just immense," she said. "It was an awful period of my life."

One morning, at 11am, Brooke was cleaning the house and asked Peter to help the kids tidy the playroom.

When she went to check on his progress, her husband was asleep.

It was the final straw.

"Something just snapped in me. I could not take one second more in that house with him. I packed my bag. I left and I never went back."

She drove to her parents' place. 

But then, the fear crept in.

She had no idea how to be financially independent.

The barriers to financial independence.

After years of having no autonomy when it came to money, Brooke's financial literacy had taken a dip.

"I didn't know how to pay a bill," she said. "I didn't have my own bank account."

Tessa was in the same boat. Even though she had studied business, she felt out of her depth.

"I had been told for 25 years I wasn't good at finance," Tessa said. "I felt really insecure."

Without financial literacy, victims of financial abuse "may not be equipped to know where to start to help themselves", said Stewart.

"Unfortunately, many women in Australia still face gaps in their financial knowledge and confidence. According to the 2023 ANZ Financial Wellbeing survey, women continue to report lower levels of financial confidence compared to men, especially in areas like investing, superannuation, and long-term planning."

Nadia, meanwhile, faced different fears. How would she re-enter the workforce?

"Australian women retire with, on average, 25–35 per cent less super than men," said Stewart. "And many who take time out of the workforce, or reduce their paid work load for caring responsibilities, may have limited or even no super to rely on."

Another barrier for Nadia has been finding a rental of her own.

"Housing continues to be such a huge economic and equity issue in Australia," said Stewart. "Expert services including Domestic Violence NSW find that access to safe and affordable housing is one of the biggest obstacles facing women leaving abusive relationships".

How to gain financial independence.

It's important to know that gaining financial independence is possible. For victims unable or not ready to leave their relationship, Stewart said "confidential services can help create a plan".

"Financial safety checklists offer safety planning and financial guidance specifically for women in abusive relationships," she said, recommending Yourtoolkit.com and the CWES financial safety checklist.

There are also helplines like 1800RESPECT and the National Debt Helpline.

It's all about "small steps" like opening your own bank account, or gathering copies of key documents to help make decisions.

Abood added that it's important to have the help of an objective third party like a financial adviser, as they are "uniquely positioned to detect signs of financial abuse due to their close relationships with clients and their families."

"(Signs) can include recognising sudden changes in financial behaviour, unusual account activity, a client's confusion about their finances, or one partner's absence from, or silence in, financial review meetings".

From there, advisers can connect victims with appropriate counselling and legal services, and with financial providers such as superannuation funds, banks, the ATO, and Centrelink.

Where are the victims now?

It's taken years, but Tessa has regained her financial confidence.

"I have remarried, and I'm the one that does absolutely everything with the finances," she said. "He's got access to everything, we talk about it together, but he lets me run it."

Nadia managed to find a full-time teaching job and is looking forward to moving into her own place.

"Being in control of my money, not worrying all the time. Just having autonomy and having somewhere peaceful. That's what I cannot wait for," she said.

With the help of her family, Brooke opened her own bank account and rebuilt her finances. She eventually moved into her own place with her kids. But not before one more encounter with Peter.

He offered to give her "an allowance of $200 a fortnight" from her own wage, should she come home.

The offer left Brooke in disbelief.

"I just thank God my feet decided to walk me out of the house that day," she said. "That was the start of phase two."

If you or someone you know is a victim of financial abuse, please contact 1800 RESPECT (1800 737 732) — the National Sexual Assault, Domestic and Family Violence Counselling Service.

Helpful resources:

• Financial Advice Association Australia.

• Ecstra Foundation.

• National Debt Helpline.

• CBA's Financial Abuse Resource Centre.

• ASIC's MoneySmart Site.

• Yourtoolkit.com's Financial Safety Checklist.

• Centre For Women's Economic Safety.

Feature Image: Getty (Stock image for illustrative purposes only).

Please note: the names of the alleged victims and accused have been changed for privacy reasons.