Dear Eric: My ex-husband and I were on fairly even financial footing when we divorced. Our incomes were similar, and we split the assets down the middle. He was a lazy, selfish, philandering husband. Losing that 200 pounds of deadweight has freed me to focus on advancing my career. My income has doubled, while his has remained relatively stable. He doesn’t know what I make now.
Our child is headed for college this fall. We agreed in the divorce that all of our kid’s expenses would be split evenly. I’ve been saving and have enough for my half of the tuition. However, the kid earned enough in scholarships that I could pay all of the remaining expenses myself. I suspect that even half of the reduced college expenses will be a hardship for my ex.
I have two options: Pay my half, and save whatever is left for the kid’s grad school or first home or whatever launch assist they might need when the time comes. This also enables me to respond to any unanticipated expenses that might arise.
Or I could offer to cover a larger share, even all of it. That will mean less/no money left at the end for easing the transition into adulthood. But it will mean my ex doesn’t have to take out loans (I assume?) to meet his obligation. What are your thoughts?
Eric says: Option A, I beg of you! Thinking through all the angles is kind of you, but we can overstep with kindness, too. Keeping your eyes on your own wallet will be healthiest for you and for the separation.
Secondly, there definitely will be other expenses in your kid’s future. So, having a fund to help ease them into early adulthood will be helpful.
Name the problem
Dear Eric: My sister-in-law cannot seem to get my name right. When I married in 1973, I took my husband’s last name. I went on to have a long teaching career, in which you pretty much just go by “Mrs. Smith.”
My husband died of cancer after 42 years of marriage. Four years later, I found love again and remarried. This time I didn’t change my name. Having been known as “Mrs. Smith” for all those years as an educator, it had become my identity.