When Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce announced their engagement today (8/26/25), the internet exploded with congratulations, memes, and speculation about wedding dresses and playlists. But as a divorce lawyer, my mind went immediately somewhere else: the prenup.
His wife wanted the co-op apartment in their divorce, and deep down, he agreed she should have it. His friends — and even a few lawyers — told him he was crazy to give up both the apartment and pay alimony. At our next meeting, I introduced Mark to his new best friend in divorce negotiations: a calculator.
“When you break down the tax benefits and factor in the capital gains you’d avoid by not selling the apartment, you’re actually losing money,” I said. The calculator agreed.
Once we modeled out best-case and worst-case litigation scenarios, reviewed his retirement accounts, and assessed potential buyout costs, Mark had a choice: fight over the apartment and spend $175,000 in legal fees, or settle quickly and strategically. He took our estimates to a CPA and real estate agent, and (armed with real numbers) finally saw the bigger picture.
Let’s get this out of the way up front: every married woman should have at least $5,000 in a bank account that’s hers alone: full stop.
Now before anyone starts clutching pearls or calling this marital betrayal, let’s be clear: I’m not saying the account has to be a secret (though for some women, it probably should be). And I’m certainly not suggesting you stop caring about your partner’s feelings, as healthy relationships are built on openness and mutual respect.
But having your own money is part of being an adult. It’s not about prepping for divorce (though we’ll get to that). It’s about independence, protection, and peace of mind.
Because here’s the reality: life happens. And life is messy.
Jessica believed her husband could be reasonable during their divorce, even after years of emotional abuse and threats of physical harm. She agreed to mediation, hoping for a peaceful resolution. But as the months passed, mediation stalled. Her husband stopped responding. Then came the ambush: a massive court motion filled with lies. He accused her of being unstable, got her removed from the family home, and even secured a temporary order keeping her from their children.
It took Jessica months of litigation to undo the damage. And she’s not alone in falling for this litigation strategy.
Jessica was divorcing a narcissist. She believed his promises to settle fairly, while he was quietly building a false narrative to destroy her. If this feels familiar, you’re not crazy, and you’re not alone. Divorcing a narcissist requires a different strategy altogether.