Do You Really Love Me?

I have been a marriage counsellor for eleven years, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s this: nobody ever books a therapy session because they’re too happy.

That’s how Mr and Mrs Smart landed on my couch one humid Tuesday afternoon. Maybe the tension between them contributed to the humidity, who knows…

George Smart sat upright like he was defending a PhD thesis. His back straight, his jaw tight, and fingers interlocked. It was like the posture of a man who had come prepared to court with incriminating evidence.

Beside him was his wife of four years, Becky Smart, her arms were folded, and she had her nails tapping her handbag like she was counting down to a boxing match.

I smiled my professional, calming smile.
“Welcome, George. Welcome, Becky. What brings us here today?

Becky didn’t even let oxygen finish entering her lungs.

“Ask him if he loves me.”

I paused, then slowly turned to George.

George blinked. “I do love you.”

She faced me. “You see? He says it with no emotion at all, like he’s confirming his BVN at the bank.”

I cleared my throat lightly. “Alright… Becky, why do you feel unloved?”

She leaned forward. “Because a man who loves you does not say, ‘Baby, let’s remove prawns from the fried rice, we need to cut costs.’”

I nodded slowly and wrote something down.

George looked at me like a betrayed citizen. “Doctor, with all due respect, prawns are not emotionally related issues. How can one conclude being unloved because of that? It was just a financially based decision.”

Becky gasped. “You see?! This is how he talks!”

I raised a hand. “Okay. Let’s unpack this. George, what does money mean to you?”

He didn’t hesitate. “Security. Stability. Peace of mind. I grew up watching my parents argue every night about bills. I swore that my home would never be like that.”

I nodded and took notes. Solid background. Trauma-informed frugality.

“Becky, what does money mean to you?”

She answered just as fast. “Enjoyment. Comfort. Soft life. What is the point of suffering when we are in fact NOT suffering?”

I wrote that down too.

George sighed. “Doctor, last month she bought a throw pillow for the couch that didn’t even need one.”

Becky snapped, “It was decorative!”

He turned to me. “₦85,000. For something nobody even needs.”

She threw her hands up. “It’s called aesthetics! We cannot be living like we’re squatting in our own home!”

I leaned back.

“So,” I said carefully, “Becky, when George questions your spending, what do you feel?”

She looked more serious this time. “I feel managed. Like I’m a project rather than a wife.”

I appreciated the sincerity internally.

I turned to George. “And when Becky spends…. freely?” for lack of a better word.

He looked tired suddenly. “I feel scared. Like one day, something will happen, and we won’t be ready for it. I want us to be able to save more than we spend.”

There it was. Of course, he wasn’t a stingy man… I know that firsthand. He paid an advance for this session with an extra tip. 

I clasped my hands. “So, Becky spends to feel… alive. George saves to feel safe. Neither of you is wrong. You’re just speaking different money languages.”

They both went quiet.

I continued, “Right now, everything Becky wants to purchase feels like a battle between ‘Do you even love me?’ and ‘Do you want us to survive?’ But marriage is not a battlefield”

Becky tried not to smile. She failed.

“George,” I said, “if every naira she spends must justify itself, Becky will feel controlled.”

He nodded slowly.

“Becky, if you turn every desire into an ‘urgent need’, George will feel financially unsafe.”

She nodded, too.

“So instead of fighting over every expense, we create three lanes:
One for responsibilities.
One for savings and future security.
And one for guilt-free enjoyment, where prawns and throw pillows can live in peace.”

Becky laughed. George shook his head, but he was smiling.

“Love isn’t measured by who spends more or who saves more,” I told them. “In marriage, it shows in the willingness to understand each other’s fears, habits, and histories with money, and to build simple systems that help both of you feel secure, heard, and considered.”

They held hands on their way out. And as the door closed, I wrote my final session note:

This wasn’t a “lack of love” problem.
It wasn’t even truly about money.
It was about two people shaped by different financial experiences, learning that marriage requires teamwork, especially with finances.

Truth be told, every home needs two things: a safety net for emergencies and room to actually enjoy the life you’re working so hard to build. One without the other creates either fear or frustration.

It is also why a financial platform like Open Space is very important. You can save intentionally, track your spending, create dedicated wallets for emergency and stay prepared.

After all, love may bring two people together…
But structure is what helps them stay that way.