For some reason, our culture has it that talking about money is awkward, supposedly “unintelligent.” We're willing to discuss politics, health, and personal life, but when it comes to payments or debt, a lump forms in our throat.
This false delicacy, this fear of appearing mercantile, is a psychological trap that destroys trust and friendship much more effectively than any financial dispute.
Story One: Cold due to a bank failure
Here is a recent example that perfectly illustrates this mechanism. A female tutor conducted several lessons with the son of her good friend. The boy was delighted, having finally understood a difficult topic. The mother was happy. It would seem that this is an ideal situation.
But suddenly the tutor began to avoid her friend. She replied to messages briefly, greeted them with reserve, and did not maintain conversations. The boy's mother, also a sensitive person, felt this chill. What had she done wrong? Maybe her son had behaved badly? Maybe she had offended her friend in some way?
Despite the tension, she asked to hold a few more lessons. The tutor agreed, but the coldness only grew. In the end, the boy's mother could not stand it and broke off the relationship. “We will not humiliate ourselves!” she decided, sure that she was being despised for some unknown reason.
And now the solution is painfully simple. The mother was properly transferring the payment to the card. But there was a technical failure at the bank. The transactions first received the status “in processing”, and then were simply canceled. The money did not reach the tutor.
What was going on in the minds of both women?
The tutor thought: “She's taking advantage of my work and doesn't even consider it necessary to pay. How rude of her, because we know each other.” She didn't remind me because she was afraid of seeming petty and ruining the relationship.
The boy's mother thought: “I paid for everything, and she's gone cold. She must be unpleasant to me or my child. She just doesn't want to communicate with us.” She didn't check the status of the transfer because she trusted the automation — she clicked “send,” and her brain ticked “done.”
This is a classic example of the fundamental attribution error. When we don’t know the reason for someone’s behavior, we tend to attribute it to the person’s personal qualities (“she’s greedy,” “she’s arrogant”) rather than to external circumstances (the bank failed). The communication vacuum was filled with the worst assumptions, and the relationship collapsed.
Story of a Friend: A Debt That Never Was
Or another situation. A man owed money to an old friend. The amount was supposed to be transferred in cash through a mutual acquaintance — the creditor's brother. Time passed, and the money was gone. The friend who borrowed money began to avoid meetings, calling less often.
The creditor was suffering, but he did not dare to remind him of the debt. This is an old friend! To remind him is like putting himself in the position of a bandit or a miserly knight. He began to think: “So friendship is worth nothing to him if he is ready to sacrifice it for the sake of money.” When he stopped inviting his friend to a joint company, he was finally convinced that the friend was avoiding him because of the debt.
And the truth turned out to be shocking, but many years later. The brother through whom the money was transferred lost the entire amount in slot machines and did not tell anyone. The debtor was sure that he had paid off, and did not understand why his friend suddenly became cold and stopped calling him. He, in turn, decided that he had simply been “crossed out” from the circle of friends.
Here we see another trap: the fear of violating the social contract. Friendship is the territory of disinterested relationships. When money invades it (the territory of market relations), cognitive dissonance arises. We are afraid of being labeled “mercantile” or “petty,” because evolutionarily this fear is equivalent to the threat of expulsion from the group. And this primal fear blocks rational action – just asking.
Why is it so difficult and what can be done about it?
It's unpleasant to have to figure out financial issues. But silence and speculation are much more destructive. They torment us with doubts, poison our thoughts, and kill the trust that is the foundation of any relationship.
And you just have to ask.
This doesn't mean you have to call and scream, “Where's my money?!” No, this is assertiveness. You have to calmly and respectfully defend your boundaries.
Instead of agonizing for weeks, you can simply write:
- “Hello! Sorry to bother you. Could you check the transfer? I don't see anything coming in, maybe there's some kind of glitch with the bank.”
- “Listen, I wanted to clarify our agreement. Is everything okay? I just want to clarify for myself.”
- “I did not receive payment for the class. Please check if the transaction went through on your end.”
Yes, it may be awkward for a second. But that second of discomfort frees you from weeks of anxiety, suspicion, and resentment. Instead of living in a world of dark fantasies where you are deceived and disrespected, you get a fact. And based on the fact (bank failure, forgetfulness, or real deception), you can make decisions.
Don't let false delicacy and outdated stereotypes rule your relationships. After all, the most valuable thing we have is our connections with people. And it's not silence that will help preserve them, but honest and open conversation. Even if it's about money.
