My Husband’s Selfish Ways Taught Him a Hard Lesson
When I first met Tom, I was just 22 years old. He seemed perfect—the sweetest, most charming man I’d ever known. I felt like the luckiest woman alive when, three months into our relationship, he proposed. My grandmother, who’d always been wise, once said, “Marry in haste, repent at leisure,” and I can now see how right she was.
At first, everything seemed wonderful. We got our first little apartment, and although money was tight, we managed. I became super organized—clipping coupons, shopping during sales, and sticking to my frugal grocery list. I was confident that things would improve with time, but I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Two years into our marriage, Tom got his first promotion at work. I was excited, hoping it meant a little more financial freedom. But that’s not how things turned out. Not long after, I discovered I was pregnant, and Tom immediately said, “We have to be extra careful now. A baby means even more expenses.”
When our little Angelina was born, I was overjoyed! I couldn’t wait to dress her in cute clothes, take her to the zoo, and enjoy those sweet little moments every mother dreams of. But as much as I imagined all those happy moments, reality hit hard. There wasn’t enough money for the things I had planned. Tom had insisted that I quit my job when I was pregnant because childcare would cost more than I made.
I did my best to stretch our budget, but when I needed anything extra for Angelina—like a treat or something special—Tom would protest. “We have to stick to the budget,” he’d say. I was constantly tracking every penny, and it felt like Tom was obsessively watching our every expense.
One day, Tom came home looking anxious. “Honey, my new boss doesn’t seem to like me, and I’m worried I might lose my job,” he confessed. “We really need to save more money, just in case.” With that, he slashed my already tight grocery budget. I was now struggling to put enough food on the table. Meanwhile, Tom was dining out at the company cafeteria or often visiting his mother for dinner.
As Angelina grew, things got harder. She was outgrowing her clothes so fast! I tried to buy her new ones, but Tom insisted we only shop at the thrift store. His solution for her wardrobe was secondhand, but for him, it was all about the latest fashion. Tom was always dressed impeccably, with a shiny, expensive watch on his wrist. He still looked the part of a successful executive—never mind how much we were struggling at home.
Then, when Angelina started school, things went from bad to worse. She needed new shoes all the time, and I could hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head: “Good shoes are essential for healthy growth!” I stood my ground and insisted on buying her the proper footwear. Tom ranted about how I was spoiling her and wasting money, but I couldn’t back down.
In response, I found a part-time job at a local restaurant to help make ends meet. It wasn’t much, but it was something. When I excitedly told Tom I had found work, he gave me a weary smile. “Thank God, honey,” he said. “They offered us either a 20% pay cut or a staff reduction. So, the company is cutting back, and it’s good you’re working. It’s going to be even harder now.”
I was in shock. “But Tom,” I said, “I thought you said sales were up? The company is doing great!”
He sighed. “Executive decisions, honey. The shareholders want more profit, and I can’t make waves or they’ll fire me. I need to keep my head down.” My heart sank. I had just started working, thinking it would help, but now it seemed like things were only going to get worse.
Later that year, we had to attend a work function for Tom’s company. I didn’t have the money for a new outfit, so I borrowed a dress and shoes from a friend. At the party, I met Tom’s new boss, who seemed friendly. He smiled at me and said, “Young lady, you should be so proud of your husband! He has a bright future ahead of him!” He winked and moved on.
I turned to Tom. “He seems to like you,” I said, trying to sound upbeat.
Tom’s smile faded, and he shook his head. “It’s all an act, babe. He’s sly and cunning. No one knows what he’ll do next. I’m on the black list.” I couldn’t understand it. Everyone at the party was so friendly, but if Tom said so, I trusted him.
Then came Christmas, and I came home to a huge surprise. There, sitting proudly in our small living room, was a brand new, top-of-the-line QLED TV. “Tom!” I gasped. “Where did this come from?”
“I bought it!” he said, his face lighting up. “It’s got amazing definition and color. Look at it! Isn’t it perfect?” He was practically glowing with excitement.
I was stunned. “I can’t buy a present for Angelina, I’m scraping every penny just to make sure we have enough for the month, and you spend thousands of dollars on a TV?!”
Tom didn’t seem bothered at all. “It’s MY money. I earned it, and I’m going to spend it however I want.”
I felt my anger rise. “I thought it was OUR money, Tom!” I said, struggling to hold back tears. “I thought we were saving for our future, making sacrifices… but instead, you’re living like a king while Angel and I live like beggars!”
Tom’s face twisted with frustration. “I deserve this! It’s all mine, and I’ll spend it how I please. You’re just dragging me down!”
I could hardly breathe. “Yes, I see now,” I said, voice shaking with emotion. “Don’t worry, Tom. We won’t be a burden on you anymore.” I turned to our bedroom and started packing. A suitcase for me, and one for Angelina. We didn’t have much, but we didn’t need anything from him anymore.
When I walked out with Angelina and our suitcases, Tom was sitting on the couch, flipping through channels on his new TV. He stared at me as I walked past him. “Where are you going?” he asked, confused.
“I’m leaving,” I said calmly. “I’m divorcing you.” And I did.
I went to my boss and asked for more hours at the restaurant. A year later, I was promoted to manager. Things started looking up. I could afford to put good food on the table, buy clothes for Angelina, and live with dignity. Eventually, I was promoted again—this time to director of the restaurant chain. Life was getting better every day.
Then one Sunday, late in the evening, there was a knock on my door. I opened it to find Tom standing there, looking rough. He had gained weight, and his clothes were shabby.
“Babe,” he whined, “I’m really sorry about everything. I’ve hit rock bottom. I lost my job, and I need your help. Could you lend me some money? Maybe even let me stay with you and Angel while I get back on my feet? I know you’re doing really well.”
I stared at him, shocked. “Excuse me?” I asked, trying to process what he was saying.
Tom put on a sickly smile. “I’m unemployed, and I could really use your help.”
I crossed my arms, keeping my cool. “Yes, I am doing well,” I said coldly. “But guess what, Tom? It’s MY money, and I’m not about to waste it keeping you in the lap of luxury.”
I slammed the door in his face. I never saw him again, but I heard through the grapevine that he ended up working as a cleaner in his old company.
What can we learn from this story?
It’s wise to be careful with money, but some people become so obsessed with saving that they forget about the people they love. A family budget should be about balance—reasonable living and saving for the future. Tom was so fixated on himself and his savings that he neglected everything else, including his family.
