I Married Late and His Financial Past Is Catching Up With Us

Money Dilemmas is where we talk about the tricky stuff - the conversations about money that live in the grey area between love, power, fairness, and everything in between.

Each story starts with a real member dilemma, the kind many of us have quietly wrestled with but rarely said out loud.

Because money isn’t simply transactional; it’s about what we value, what we tolerate, and what we’re taught to accept.

And at the end of every story, one of our co-founders weighs in - offering her two cents and best advice on how to navigate the dilemma.

The Dilemma

I married in my late 50s.

By then, I’d already done most things on my own.

I worked for over 35 years, mostly full-time, never earning anything spectacular but always steady.

I paid off the mortgage on my terraced house just outside Manchester.

I was careful. Not anxious, just sensible.

I wanted to reach this stage of life without constantly worrying.

My husband came with more history.

A previous marriage, adult children, and financial commitments that didn’t stop when the relationship did. I understood that.

We’re not young. People come with lives already lived.

What I didn’t expect was how much of it would still shape our day-to-day.

There’s money going out most months.

Support for his ex. Helping his children when things come up. School fees years ago that turned into rent help now. It’s never framed as a big thing. It’s always just this once, or they’re struggling, or it won’t happen again.

But it does happen again.

I find myself doing the sums more often than I thought I would at this age.

Thinking about whether we can afford another holiday, whether I should slow down at work, whether retirement will actually look like the quieter life I imagined.

Friends talk about downsizing or finally enjoying themselves, and I catch myself feeling tense instead.

The part I don’t say out loud is that I feel like I did everything right so I wouldn’t be worrying about money now.

I stayed sensible when others took risks.

I didn’t overspend.

I didn’t rely on anyone else.

And yet I feel like my future has become more uncertain since getting married, not less.

I love him. He’s good to me.

We’ve built a life that works in many ways. But I sometimes find myself mentally separating what’s mine from what’s ours, just to feel safe.

I don’t know whether this is simply the reality of marrying later in life, or whether I’ve quietly taken on more than I should.

At this age, there’s less room to get it wrong.

How much of someone else’s past are you meant to absorb when you’re meant to be thinking about the years ahead?

Camilla’s Take

Thank you for sharing this.

I can hear how carefully you’ve lived your life, and that matters here.

You didn’t drift into your 60s. You worked steadily, planned ahead, and made choices so this part of life would feel calmer and more secure.

It makes sense that you’re unsettled now.

Marrying later comes with a different set of realities. There’s less time to smooth things out and less margin for error.

When ongoing financial commitments from a partner’s past start affecting your present, it’s reasonable to pause and take stock.

The first thing I’d suggest is getting absolute clarity on the numbers.

Write them down.

• What goes out each month toward his ex and his children.
• What’s likely to continue long-term.
• What that means for your savings and your retirement timeline if nothing changes.

This isn’t about blame.

It’s about understanding what you’re actually living with.

From there, I’d encourage separating finances more clearly, if they aren’t already.

That might mean each of you contributing a set amount to shared household costs, while anything related to his previous commitments comes from his personal income.

Many couples who marry later find that some financial separation protects the relationship rather than weakening it.

It’s also important to decide what your personal bottom line is.

How much uncertainty you’re willing to live with. How much pressure on your savings feels acceptable. What kind of retirement you want to protect.

Once you’re clear on that, it becomes much easier to communicate it calmly and without guilt.

This conversation doesn’t need to be dramatic.

It can be practical.

You can explain that you’re thinking seriously about the years ahead and want to make sure the life you worked hard for still feels secure.

That’s a reasonable thing to say.

You’re allowed to care about his children and still protect your own future.

You’re allowed to be supportive without carrying financial stress that makes you anxious. And you’re allowed to want this chapter of life to feel lighter than the ones that came before.

You’ve already been responsible for decades.

Wanting stability now isn’t asking for too much.

It’s asking for what you planned for.

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