We were drowning in debt.

Every dollar mattered. Every purchase was supposed to be intentional. We had a plan to pay off our credit cards, and I was doing everything I could to stick to it.

So when I found out my husband spent $200 on a Nintendo DS, I completely lost it.

I’m not proud of what happened next.

I grabbed that gaming console and threw it across the kitchen.

Not just tossed it. Not just set it down hard.

I threw it.

However, he wasn’t even there. I was alone with my rage, my frustration, my complete sense of helplessness.

And in that moment, I realized: throwing a Nintendo DS wasn’t going to solve anything.

But I didn’t know what would.

Because it wasn’t about the Nintendo DS. It was about the fact that I felt completely alone in our marriage when it came to money.

I Thought I Was the Only One Who Cared

Meanwhile, while I was cutting coupons, saying no to coffee with friends, and stressing over every grocery trip, he was… buying gaming consoles.

While I was lying awake at night worrying about our debt, he was… enjoying life.

While I was sacrificing, he was spending.

And I couldn’t understand it.

How could he be so irresponsible?

How could he not care about our future?

How could he be so selfish?

That’s what I thought. That’s what I believed for years.

I became the money police in our marriage. The one who monitored every purchase. The one who had to approve or deny spending like he was a child asking for permission.

As a result, the more I controlled, the more he pulled away.

Eventually, he started hiding purchases from me. Not lying, exactly. Just… not mentioning them. Because why open yourself up to judgment when you know the lecture is coming?

We weren’t partners anymore.

We were a frustrated parent and a rebellious teenager.

And that dynamic? It was killing our marriage.

The Real Problem Wasn’t the Nintendo DS

Here’s what I did know that day when I threw that gaming console across the kitchen:

I had no idea what to do.

I had been trying—desperately trying—to make him see that we needed to get out of debt. That I couldn’t keep living paycheck to paycheck. That there had to be a better way.

But he just couldn’t see it.

Yes, he knew the numbers. He knew we had debt. But as a youth worker, paid poorly by the church, he thought poverty and debt were just… a way of life.

He’d always lived this way. He didn’t know there was a better way—a debt-free way.

But here’s the thing: he’d never told me that.

And I’d never asked.

We Never Had a Money Conversation

I paid off my credit card every month. I enjoyed saving money. I enjoyed spending money on things I had saved for.

On the other hand, my husband? Not so much.

He had been taught to use credit. When I first met him, he had three credit cards—all maxed out.

When we got married, I helped him clear those cards, presuming (wrongly) that all would be well now.

In fact, it was like he should just know what I was thinking. Like we’d automatically be on the same page now that we were married.

But obviously not.

We had marriage prep classes. We had marriage mentors. We even had a financial advisor.

But NO ONE told us that we both had money stories that we should have shared with each other.

No one told us we needed to think win-win. To listen before speaking. To actually talk about money instead of just assuming we’d figure it out.

So we just went around in circles, thinking everything would be okay but not actually talking about it and not having a plan.

18 Years

We went for 18 years of marriage before we got on the same financial page.

Eighteen years.

And it showed. Our finances were a mess.

That makes me so sad when I think about it. All that time wasted because we just didn’t know any better.

All those fights. All that resentment. All that stress.

For 18 years.

The Long Road to Getting on the Same Page

After that Nintendo DS episode, it took me years to learn how to talk to my husband about money.

Years.

I had to learn how and when to speak to him. I had to figure out what worked and what made him shut down completely.

I went about it all the wrong way at first.

I listened to podcasts. I read books. I spent hours—literally hours—learning how to approach money with a husband who was reluctant and totally overwhelmed.

I had to learn:

• When to bring up money (not when he was tired or stressed)
• How to frame conversations (not as attacks, but as partnership)
• What he needed to feel safe talking about it (respect, not lectures)
• How to honor his perspective even when it was different from mine

It was exhausting. It was lonely. And honestly? There were times I wanted to give up.

But slowly—painfully slowly—we started getting on the same page.

The Shift That Finally Changed Everything

Eventually, we created a financial plan that honored both of us.

Not my way. Not his way. Our way.

Here’s what we did:

We Built “No Questions Asked” Accounts Into Our Budget

Same amount each month. His money. My money.

He could spend his on a Nintendo DS if he wanted (or save it, or invest it, or donate it).

I could spend mine on whatever I chose—or not spend it at all.

No explanations. No judgment. No approval needed.

We Agreed on Shared Goals Together

We sat down and talked about what we both wanted:

• Pay off debt (we agreed on this)
• Build an emergency fund (we agreed on this too)

Suddenly, we weren’t pulling in opposite directions. We were building toward the same future.

Read more: How to set financial goals as a couples

We Respected Each Other as Equal Adults

This was the hardest part for me.

Letting go of control meant trusting that my husband was capable of managing his own money.

It meant no more monitoring, questioning, or judging every purchase.

And him? He needed to step up. Be more transparent. Honor that my need for security was just as valid as his need for freedom.

What Happened Next

The resentment disappeared.

Not overnight. But gradually, week by week, the tension melted away.

Because we finally had a system that worked for both of us.

I stopped feeling like the only responsible person in the marriage.

He stopped feeling like a child who had to ask permission.

We started talking about money without it turning into a fight.

And slowly, we paid off our debt. Together.

Not because I forced him to sacrifice. But because we both agreed it mattered, and we both contributed in ways that felt right to us.

What I’ve Learned Working With Other Couples

I now help Christian couples get on the same page financially, and I see this same dynamic play out over and over again:

One spouse is a saver. One is a spender.

And instead of building a system that honors both, they avoid the conversation altogether.

Here’s what I’ve learned from working with couples:

The Saver Isn’t More Responsible

They’re just more risk-averse. They value future security over present enjoyment. That’s not better. It’s just different.

The Spender Isn’t Irresponsible

They value present joy over future planning. They believe life is meant to be enjoyed now. That’s not wrong. It’s just different.

The Problem Isn’t the Difference

It’s the lack of a system that respects both people.

When you try to force your spouse to think like you, you’re not protecting your future. You’re eroding your partnership.

The Framework That Actually Works

If you’re the saver married to a spender (or vice versa), here’s what I recommend:

1. Stop Judging Each Other’s Approach to Money

Your way isn’t the “right” way. It’s just your way based on your values, your upbringing, and your personality.

Their way isn’t the “wrong” way. It’s their way for the same reasons.

2. Talk About What You Each Actually Need

Do this without judgment:

“I need to feel secure. What do you need?”

“I need to feel free. What do you need?”

Both are valid. Both matter.

3. Build a System That Honors Both

This might look like:

• Fun money accounts for each person (set amount each month, no questions asked)
• Shared goals you both agree on (debt payoff, emergency fund, dream vacation)
• Clear boundaries on what requires discussion vs. what doesn’t
• Regular check-ins to make sure the system is still working

4. Let Go of Control

If you’re the saver, you have to trust that your spouse is an adult who can manage their own money.

If you’re the spender, you have to honor that your spouse’s need for security is valid and deserves to be taken seriously.

5. Remember: Marriage Is Partnership, Not Control

The goal isn’t to make your spouse think like you.

The goal is to build a life together where both people feel respected, valued, and free.

The Bigger Truth About Money in Marriage

Here’s what that Nintendo DS taught me:

Marriage isn’t about agreeing on everything.

It’s about building a system where both people can thrive.

When you try to control your spouse’s spending, you’re not protecting your future. You’re damaging your present.

When you ignore your spouse’s need for security, you’re not living freely. You’re building resentment.

The goal isn’t agreement. It’s alignment.

You don’t have to value money the same way. You just have to build a plan that works for both of you.

What This Looks Like in Real Life

Now, instead of being bitter about all those wasted years, I’m passionate about helping other Christian couples get on the same financial page.

I don’t want anyone else to go through 18 years of financial stress and mess like we did.

I don’t want other wives to feel as alone as I felt.

I don’t want other husbands to feel as overwhelmed and judged as my husband felt.

That’s why I do what I do.

Let me tell you about Janet and John (names changed for privacy).

They came to me stuck in the exact same cycle my husband and I were in:

Janet was the saver. She tracked every penny. She felt anxious whenever John spent money without “checking in” first.

John was the spender. He felt suffocated. He felt like he couldn’t enjoy life without asking permission.

Sound familiar?

Here’s what we did:

We created an Intentional Spending Plan that honored both of them:

• They agreed on their shared goals (pay off car, save for vacation)
• They built in “no questions asked” money for each person
• They set clear boundaries on what needed discussion vs. what didn’t

Six weeks later, Janet told me: “It was great to talk about our hopes and dreams for how we’ll use our money in the future. We look forward to more purposeful financial planning.”

That’s what’s possible when you stop fighting and start building together.

If This Is You Right Now

If you’re reading this and thinking, “That’s us. We’re stuck in this exact cycle,” I want you to know:

It doesn’t have to stay this way.

You don’t have to choose between security and freedom.

You don’t have to be the money police or the rebellious teenager.

You can build something better. Together.

But you can’t do it alone.

Sometimes you need someone outside your marriage to help you see what you’re both missing. Someone who’s been there. Someone who understands both the saver and the spender.

That’s what I do.

I help Christian couples create financial plans that honor both people in the marriage—no judgment, no shame, just partnership.

If you’d like to talk about creating a plan that actually works for your marriage, book a free 15-minute clarity call with me here.

We’ll talk about where you are, what you’re stuck on, and whether working together makes sense.

Because your marriage is worth more than a fight over a Nintendo DS.

One More Thing Before You Go

That Nintendo DS I threw across the kitchen?

My husband picked it up, checked to make sure it still worked, and quietly put it away.

That’s what marriage is really about.

Not perfect financial systems. Not always agreeing.

Just two imperfect people choosing partnership over control. Choosing understanding over resentment. Choosing to build together instead of tearing each other down.

That’s what I want for you.

Your Turn

Are you the saver or the spender in your relationship?

What’s your biggest struggle with money in your marriage right now?

Drop a comment below—I read every single one, and I’d love to hear your story.

And if you need help creating a plan that works for both of you? Let’s talk.

Blessings, Karen