LOUISE THOMPSON: I almost lost my house after I went from breadwinner to unemployed overnight

Why don’t I become smart with money until I’m 34? It probably has something to do with the fact that I lost two years of my life to a serious illness, during which I went from being the main breadwinner to being virtually unemployed overnight, earning about five percent of my usual salary.

At our lowest point, it seemed like Ryan and I were going to lose the house we had made our childhood home for seven years. When you’ve been faced with the prospect of losing everything you’ve worked for right in the face, it’s a great wake-up call.

But still, why wasn’t I smart about money before I went through this trauma? The truth is, I was on a hamster wheel: living day to day, never looking forward, never looking back. I had no strategy; I certainly wasn’t one of those people who made a ten-year plan (or even a two-year plan).

We felt comfortable – and I know what a privilege that is – but money came in and money went out. I spent £1,000 on a Net-A-Porter order and then left the things in the box because I didn’t have time to send them back. (Now I use circular fashion sites to generate extra income and sell stuff on Depop.) I think I made more than I spent, but I rarely checked my bank balance. I guess I was too busy getting sucked into the social media vortex of being an influencer and creating content to really notice the paychecks. Then I almost died in childbirth, and everything came to a standstill.

Two life-threatening hemorrhages and the PTSD that followed changed all my relationships. I’ve written before in this column about how the trauma affected my bond with my mother and nearly destroyed my relationship with Ryan (a whole other column for another day, I’m sure). But one relationship that I really didn’t expect to be affected by my illness is the relationship I have with my money.

Although I had not paid attention to my daily expenses, I have always been a saver. When I was a kid I used to like to put a year’s worth of pocket money in pound coins into my little piggy bank (which I actually still have because I’m a hoarder too – are you starting to see the pattern?) treating myself.

This habit continued into adulthood, but I didn’t really know what I was saving for. I wasn’t taking a big vacation or making improvements to my home; the money just sat there – and not even in a sensible high-interest account.

When I was still seriously ill in the hospital, I remember looking at my savings account and thinking: what’s the point?! I could have had a million pounds in there (I didn’t, by the way), but what use would it be if I was dead?

I remember the overwhelming feeling of having to take my whole family on a huge vacation together as soon as I got out of the hospital. I also had a strong desire to get married. Why wouldn’t I spend all my money on a big, lavish party? Then this time I became even more mentally ill from PTSD, and the idea of ​​planning anything at all became irrelevant.

Louise and Ryan on the roof terrace of their London home

Thank God I didn’t screw things up because in the end, my whole life of saving kept a roof over our heads.

I’m self-employed so I wasn’t planning on taking much maternity leave before returning to work, but then I was suddenly too sick to work and while I was in hospital Ryan was diagnosed overnight the only earner. He also had to take care of me and our new baby, which left little room to build his own career.

This is when the implications of us both being self-employed start to dawn on us – not so much for me as I was so ill at the time that I didn’t really understand what was happening around us.

Ryan did, and he was very concerned about our finances. He was lumped in with this enormous responsibility and took on all the stress himself, which seriously affected his mental health. By nature he is a doer and a repairer. Suddenly he was powerless to help me, but he also had to take care of all the payments. He never said to me, “I need to use your debit card,” and he protected me from money worries, but I don’t think the fear ever completely left him. I’ve come out the other side, but he still feels like he’s been robbed of time while so many are flourishing in their careers.

Our worst point was when we almost had to sell the house that Ryan and I had worked hard to turn into a home. Moving is a challenge at the best of times, but if we were forced to move shortly after I gave birth, it was unthinkable. (I say this with the utmost respect, because I know someone who had to do just that.)

Ultimately I was able to refinance, but at a time when interest rates had been at their highest point for years, our mortgage interest rate rose from 2.65 to 7.1 percent, which was a bitter pill to swallow. It wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been so sick and couldn’t work. At this point, I’m just grateful that I’ve managed to stay close to my family – I still live next door to my brother Sam, and having them around has been an integral part of my recovery.

I know I was lucky to grow up in privilege and have a well-paying job. But I also lost almost all of it – and it took me quite a major phase of self-development to realize that it is important to care about money. Or should I say, it’s important to understand money because when you do, it’s a little less intimidating.

I also understand the importance of hard work and saving; I am now maximizing my pension contributions and ISA benefit. I would never take wealth for granted. I have a renewed interest in what I have and where I spend it. I take the time to make informed decisions and I’ve finally learned that you have to speculate to accumulate, so I invest in stocks.

I never mentioned numbers to Ryan because I didn’t want him to judge me. I didn’t want to sound boastful or feel like I had more power. I always wanted us to feel like equal partners, and we shared everything fifty-fifty – even though we only opened a joint bank account after eight years!

He’s just not a numbers person, so I take that over to make sure he doesn’t live in a permanent state of panic. This is one of the good things to come out of the trauma of the last few years: I created a monster spreadsheet. This covers every single asset that comes into our shared household; everything that comes in and goes out (I spend £500 a month on my two dogs, if you add it all up, which is quite alarming), and also all the predicted income streams. I update it weekly, which I find incredibly motivating. I feel like I’m regaining control of my life after it veered so wildly off course.

I may be forensic about managing our money these days, but I also try to hold on to the sentiment of an ironic pillow my dad has in the house. It says: ‘Fly first class, otherwise your children will’. (I guess I can share this, since none of us actually fly first class, so it’s a little less distasteful!) I used to find that slogan a little offensive, but now I understand. The message behind it is: live! Burn the scented candle, wear your best clothes, invest in that statement blazer so you can come to work like a rock star! You’ve earned it.

IMAGE REGISTRER: ESTER MALLOY.

STYLIST: NICOLA ROSE.

STYLING ASSISTANT: HOPE PALMER.

HAIR AND MAKEUP: KRYSTAL BUCKLEY WITH THE HELP OF OAUI AND GIORGIO ARMANI BEAUTY