'My husband is $60,000 in debt to me. I don't discuss this with anyone.'

Why is it I'm comfortable talking about the STDs we all worked hard to dodge in our 20s, but not the STD that seems to be more and more prevalent in our 30s?

That pesky STD that a dose of antibiotics will not budge: Sexually Transmitted Debt. 

At a recent girls' brunch we covered every topic under the sun, as you do – discussing in fabulously graphic detail the recent 'adult sleepover' experience of one of the last standing single ladies at the table, a recap of a woman’s emergency C-section including some photos shared across the table on her phone, to the more mundane pros and cons of having in house care versus day care.

While you're here, watch Mel Browne share the money lessons your parents told you, that you should probably forget. Post continues after video.

Sitting back at home that afternoon I realised although I'd opened up and shared in conversations that were unquestionably intimate – at one point I was literally looking inside the open belly of one of my best friends – it still feels grossly inappropriate to talk about my current financial situation.

While it seems that no topic is off bounds when it comes to our bodies, periods, sex, boyfriends/husbands/girlfriends, careers... the list goes on, I would still absolutely not discuss my family finances over poached eggs and avocado.

Like most people, I grew up and had it reenforced across my teens and early adulthood that it was rude to ask someone about their religion, their politics, or their salary. 

Fast forward 34 years to 2022 – my Instagram feed (yes I'm still an Instagram user  – TikTok is too young for me!) is full of friends, colleagues and strangers openly promoting their political and religious views. Unashamedly putting forward their position on the recent abortion legislation in the States, how they feel about the #MeToo movement, if they voted Labor or Liberal, how they feel about live export, coal, carbon taxes and on and on. My LinkedIn feed sometimes feels like a political debate newsroom ticker – not a source of career networking.

Yet, while we don't flinch openly discussing religion and politics; finances still feel like the last standing taboo.

In March of this year, my husband needed to borrow $60,000 from me. 

Depending on your own private financial situation this could be completely moot because you share all of your finances with your spouse so there is no 'borrowing'."What's mine is yours baby" and vice versa, OR "$60,000?! That's almost my entire savings are you crazy" vs "$60,000 – sure no problem, I think I have that sitting in my wallet right now, $100s okay?"

For me, $60,000 is most certainly a lot of money, and something I only had on hand after selling an investment property that I'd scrimped and saved for and only by fluke - rather than any sort of property prowess - made a profit on.

My husband needed the money to pay for a work expense - he runs his own company and like many people doing so, cash flow is often very sporadic. The situation was dire. If I didn't agree to lend him the money, then his company would likely go bust and worse - he'd be in breach of contract in fulfilling an order and then liable for further ongoing penalties.

To say that this has caused problems in my marriage is an understatement.

The profits from my investment property purchased in my twenties, prior to marriage – or even knowing my husband, took literally decades to realise. I’m pretty sure tips from my university bar job went into paying the initial deposit. 

How could my husband seriously be asking me to risk handing over this cash when I've been responsible and financially prudent my entire life; always saving 10 per cent of every pay cycle, never getting into credit card debt, topping up my super?

Because of his poor forecasting and cash management, I'm expected to bail him out because in his words: "You're my wife and that's what partners do."

Maybe I need to do a Reddit AITA (Am I The AssH**) post, but in my mind – no actually, this isn't what wives or partners do. They are not a personal, interest free, no credit check required, 24-hour bank for the other spouse to fall back on.

As context, our family finances are completely separate. We have individual banking accounts, no joint investments or savings (no joint debt), we split costs of childcare, utilities, holidays down the middle and take turns week on/week off paying for food, petrol and weekly living expenses.

Being asked to cover a $60,000 business expense felt like, and still feels like - a gross abuse of the trust and respect that exists within a marriage. As a partner I felt unfairly obligated, to the tune that I relented and gave the money as a loan.

The worst bit: it's August, and the money has still not been repaid.

Without getting into the red hot anger, building resentment and ever present daily strain waiting for this money to be repaid had brought to my life and relationship, back to brunch. 

When my friends asked, "how is everything with you? How is Mark*?, I replied with a breezy "oh fine, yeah, all good with us, same old – BUT, I have to tell you about the funniest thing that happened at my pap smear last week."

In that moment - it felt more appropriate to discuss my troublesome cervix than my marital STD.

Listen to What The Finance where Mel Browne and Pallavi Sharda explore everything love and money. Post continues after podcast.

Why? I have known some of these women since I was 12. Do I really think they'd judge me? Judge my relationship? Who knows, maybe they've experienced something similar. Yet I still haven't, and don't, tell anyone what's going on with my family finances.

We all loved talking about The Tinder Swindler. Enjoyed declaring 'that would never happen to me' while watching the fabulous Connie Britton get financially taken advantage of by Eric Bana in Dirty John. But that's TV or someone else's life – it would be totally different to admit, well actually my husband is taking financial advantage of me.

Maybe I do need to get onto TikTok – is that where one goes these days to openly debate family budgets and to discuss their STDs, sexual or otherwise?

The author of this story is known to Mamamia but has chosen to remain anonymous for privacy reasons.

Feature Image: Getty.