How to Handle the Costs of Breaking Up While Living Together

Everyone knows divorces are costly. But what about breaking up with a partner you live with? There’s no legal protocol for that — just a bunch of scary bills that you can no longer split with a significant other. Some people get creative (we’ve all gotten those GoFundMe emails), but no matter what, the financial fallout of a sudden housing change can last for years. Here’s how three different women managed rocky breakups with a live-in boyfriend and how they’re doing now.

I was in a relationship for more than three years that was increasingly abusive. Things started deteriorating after we moved in together, but I felt stuck because I couldn’t afford to move out. I’ve lived in the Seattle area my whole adult life, and at the time, the cost of housing had increased so dramatically that I couldn’t find a new place. That’s where my job is and where my community is, and I didn’t want to leave.

One morning, my ex woke up and screamed in my face and called me names and left for work. And that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but for some reason it was the last straw. I packed everything up that belonged to him and put it in the garage. Then I called a friend to come over and be there with me when he came home. I told him, “You don’t live here anymore. Give me the key.” He started backpedaling and apologizing, but I was done. I said, “You’re a grown man. Figure it out.”

I’m so grateful that my friend was there. That night, after he left, she helped me scramble through my finances and crunch the numbers so that I could figure out how to cover rent on my own. I locked down my budget and basically went into survival mode. I stopped getting my hair done. I stopped getting my nails done. I canceled all my subscription services. I ate beans and rice. I didn’t have savings, so I took inventory of everything that I owned and how much I could sell it for — my car, my Apple watch, my iPhone. Thank goodness it didn’t come to that, but I was prepared to sell things if I needed to.

Luckily, I did not have a lot of expenses. I didn’t have any active student-loan payments at the time. Rent and utilities were about $1,750 a month. My car payment was about $200 a month and then I had my cell phone and groceries. My salary was $55,000 a year, so it was tight and very stressful. But I knew I was going to get a 10 percent raise at the end of the year, so if I could make it through the next four months, I would get some breathing room. I work in financial services, and they’re very transparent about their annual raises.

I also learned the importance of leaning on my support network, and being honest with my friends about the situation I was in. My family doesn’t have the means to help me, so it’s not like there was an uncle or grandma I could call. My friends really had my back, though. They sent me DoorDash meals and groceries. One friend even covered a bill for me, I think it was $200 or $300, and I reimbursed her as soon as I could a few months later.

Even after I got that raise, it took me about a year of paying bills by myself to feel comfortable again, to the point where I could relax enough to pay for a pedicure. The whole experience really put the fear of God in me. I never want to be in that predicament again. I wound up staying in that apartment for three more years, and now I live in a bigger spot. I save carefully, too.

Our breakup happened abruptly. My ex-boyfriend cheated on me, in the apartment that we shared, when I was on vacation for my birthday. It was really bad. We’d been together for the better part of a decade and living together for a year. But once the cheating details came to light, I was like, I can’t be here. I’m out.

I slept on friends’ couches for a month while I came up with a plan. I dealt with my ex over email, so that I could get everything in writing. I tried to keep it businesslike. Because his behavior was the impetus for the breakup, I put the responsibility on him to pay for as much of the fallout as possible. I made him pay to take my name off our lease. We had a joint credit card, and I made him take my name off of that, too, and I left the remaining balance for him to cover. I knew enough about his finances, and his credit limits and things like that, that I was confident he could figure it out. And I was very angry.

It did occur to me that he might not pay. I was so shocked at his behavior that I was like, Who knows? Has he lost his mind? But if he pushed back, I definitely had the upper hand. I knew his family and his friends. I’m not someone who likes to bad-mouth people, but I was ready to really air it out. So his hands were tied, and I leveraged that in a way that I thought was very fair. One of my friends called him to get his credit-card number for the movers, and he protested a little bit and then just gave in. All in all, between the balance on our shared credit card, the movers, and dealing with our lease, the breakup probably cost him around $7,000.

But it was still expensive for me, too. I was always taught to have savings and be financially independent, which is lucky — I could afford to move without going into debt. But money was much tighter for a while. I moved into a studio apartment that was about $750 more per month than I had been paying when I split the rent with him. I had to buy some new furniture. And it’s more expensive, in general, to live as a single person than to split everything down the middle like we had been doing. Plus the building where I moved was a real downgrade from the one where we had lived together, and that sucked. But I’m glad I could afford it. I’m also glad that I had friends who were willing to help me out and let me crash with them when I needed to.

That was about five years ago, and I’m still in the same apartment. I work in TV production, and my salary has increased significantly since then, so I could move to a bigger, nicer place. But I’d rather save the money. Going through that experience, where it felt like my life was in freefall, was a pretty sobering reminder of how important it is to have savings. So I like to keep my living expenses lower than I need to, and I think I always will.

I started dating my previous boyfriend in college. We graduated during the COVID lockdowns and the job market was tough. His family owned a rental house in Florida, but they’d recently had a bad experience with a tenant, so it was empty. They generously said that we could live there, rent free, while we looked for work. I applied for an entry-level position at a PR agency in Miami and got the job, so that cemented the decision. I was required to work in person a few days a week.

It was nice that we didn’t have to pay rent, but because I was the only one working, I was supporting our other living expenses. I felt both trapped and like I was freeloading, which was uncomfortable. Meanwhile, my boyfriend was still unemployed, and he was struggling.

I hit my breaking point right after I got promoted. I think my boyfriend was jealous that I was doing well and taking out his frustrations on the relationship. We had a big, dumb argument and I called my parents crying. I wasn’t afraid for my safety, but he had anger-management problems, and I didn’t know how he was going to react if I broke up with him. My fear was that he would kick me out of the house and I’d have nowhere to go. I didn’t have any family nearby or even any friends — there was no support system. I also had a dog and a lot of stuff in the house. It wasn’t going to be easy for me to just pack up and go. I felt scared and isolated.

I knew I needed to find a new apartment before I had the breakup conversation, just in case. My boss at the time knew a realtor in Miami, and he helped me look for a new place. Then my dad flew down to help me pack everything up. Within a few days, I was out. The breakup itself was really emotional. I still feel bad about it, the fact that I made all these arrangements behind my boyfriend’s back. I’m sure it was traumatic for him. But of course, there were reasons why I felt I needed to do that, and I’m glad I did.

Financially, I’m still recovering from it. I saved money during the relationship because I wasn’t paying rent, but I was making about $40,000 a year and I hadn’t been working for very long. I had about $10,000 saved in total, and I blew most of it on the move. I had to pay a security deposit and put a down payment on the apartment, and my rent was $1,750 a month plus utilities. I got a raise with my promotion, so I was making $50,000 by then, but over half my income was going to housing.

I lived paycheck to paycheck, with no savings, and regularly maxed out my credit cards. My credit limit was low, about $1,200, so I wasn’t accruing a ton of rollover debt, but still. There were periods of time when I wouldn’t buy groceries. I’d look through my cabinets and be like, Hmm, what can I make from this? I’d eat buttered noodles for a week. I also had to buy food for my dog. I’m not a big drinker, but everyone in Miami goes out all the time, and I wanted to make friends and live my life. I’d just have one drink and the bill would still be $25.

Eventually, my rent got raised to $2,500, which wasn’t feasible — it would have been two-thirds of my income. I decided to move to New Jersey, which is where I’m originally from. The job market is better up here. Now I’m making $110,000, and I’m finally getting to a place where I’m saving regularly. But my savings are not where I’d like them to be. I have friends who are saving up to buy homes and I’m nowhere near that. I still get anxiety every time I look at my bank balance because it takes me back to those moments when I’d have only $20 in my checking account.

Even though it was hard, I don’t have any regrets about how I handled things. I think I did the best I could, financially and otherwise. Sure, I could have been stricter with my money, but then I probably would have been really lonely, and I wouldn’t have been able to process the breakup and get through it as well as I did. It also taught me how to be independent, and I’ll carry that with me forever.

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