Vixen Vent: Money, Prenup, Respect
I got the initial of my partner’s first name tattooed on me. I did it eight years into our relationship. I did it because at that point in our relationship things were running at its smoothest and although we had yet to solidify our commitment to one another through marriage, inking a part of him onto me forever like the drunk-in-love twenty something that I was signified that I was serious about us.
And in all of my “oh, this will last forever-ness” he warned me not to get his entire first name permanently marked on my body. Some people call it bad karma, he said he knows how I am when I’m angry – a spiteful woman scorned will give it all up, throwing all of our years invested into one another, away. I made a promise to him in branding his name on me, and a few months later, his words proved right.
Money has almost always been an issue in our relationship. He made more money and I found myself dependent on his income. I started to become the breadwinner and filed for head of household on taxes for several years, wounding his pride as a man who couldn’t provide how he wanted to for his family. Being broke turned us into beggars and two bitter people who had to save every penny found to scrape up a dinner. We were at our best when we had funds, but we were so caught up in finally having something, we became “wealthy” in materials and poor in spirit.
So, we’re at the point now in our relationship, neither one of us a multi-millionaire living out our fantasies in the city where dreams are made of, but content in the direction we’re headed in individually, we decided if we were to wed, we’d sign a prenup. My partner read me the day I got my tattoo and Tamar said it best when discussing prenuptial agreements, “people become unrecognizable when you’re going through a breakup.” It does happen.