Prenups are so unromantic - a sign of distrust, not love. Time

Hear now the wisdom of Suze Orman, who speaks with clarity that pierces through the illusions of the heart. Many say that prenuptial agreements are unromantic, that they are nothing but the cold shadow of distrust. Yet she proclaims a truth that is both stern and liberating: to enter into a bond of love without confronting the realities of life is to build a temple upon shifting sands. To face the questions of money, inheritance, and protection is not to weaken the union, but to strengthen it. For what is love if not the courage to unveil one’s whole self before another—body, spirit, and yes, even coin?

The ancients knew that alliances were not sealed by passion alone but by covenants written with solemnity. In times past, kings who sought peace between warring nations would bind themselves not only with oaths but with agreements, detailing land, gold, and heirs. Did these parchments diminish the honor of their vows? No. They preserved them, guarding against the treachery of circumstance and the erosion of memory. So too in marriage, where trust is not proven by ignoring the possibility of storms, but by preparing together for the gales that may come.

Consider the story of Catherine of Aragon and Henry VIII. Their union was crowned with ceremony and clothed in romance, yet beneath it lay unresolved matters of succession, inheritance, and politics. When the tides of fortune shifted, what was once tender love turned to bitter struggle, and the kingdom itself fractured. Had they, in their wisdom, crafted agreements that aligned their expectations, might the storms of betrayal and annulment have been weathered differently? History shows us that unspoken assumptions can shatter both marriages and empires.

It is a paradox, yet one filled with divine logic: a prenup is not a weapon but a shield. It is not born of suspicion but of openness. To sit with your beloved and speak of debts, of earnings, of property, of future dreams, is to say: I will not hide from you, even the parts of myself that are heavy, imperfect, or uncertain. This is not the language of distrust but of intimacy so complete it dares to touch the most sensitive truths.

For is it not the case that money, unspoken, festers in the shadows? Many unions have been undone not by lack of love but by hidden burdens—debts revealed too late, expectations never voiced, inheritance disputes that split families asunder. When the veil of silence falls, resentment grows. Yet when couples embrace financial transparency, when they carve their agreements with honesty, then their bond rests on rock, not sand.

The teaching here is luminous: true romance is not fragile. It does not shatter when faced with practicality. Instead, it deepens, for love that cannot withstand truth is not love but fantasy. Therefore, the wise do not shrink from difficult conversations. They meet them with courage, hand in hand, knowing that to prepare for every season is to ensure that their bond endures beyond passion’s first flame.

Take this lesson into your own lives: if you love, do not fear to speak of money. Speak not in anger, nor in secrecy, but with patience and respect. Write together your expectations and protections, as couples once carved their vows into stone. Do not wait for conflict to force the issue; address it while love is still fresh, so that trust may grow strong. For in doing so, you will find that the prenup, far from killing romance, becomes the vessel in which true love is safeguarded against time and trial.

And so, let it be known: love and trust are not diminished by honesty, but magnified. Do not confuse silence for intimacy, nor passion for permanence. For the greatest unions are not those that avoid the storms, but those that prepare their sails together, and steer as one toward the horizon.

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