I had let things get out of hand and felt terrible about my selfish behavior. While Jacob was in a valley of freelancing, I was enjoying a peak of steady, well-paying work. I continued to spend money for the both of us — not thinking twice before buying $100 worth of succulents. Jacob was being very vocal about what he could and could not afford, but I was quick to dismiss him. “Don’t worry about it,” I’d wave away his financial concerns. I had been treating Venmo like Jacob’s loan officer: “Buy now, Venmo later. It’s all good, baby!”Maybe this is a good time to mention that I’m a fiercely independent only child, and sometimes I act like it — and not in a good way. I realized that if I were going to be in a true partnership, I couldn’t base all my decisions (and spending habits) on what worked just for me. More importantly, I needed to be more communicative and transparent about how I was spending our money, especially at a point in our careers that wasn’t totally in sync. I should never have put him in a position to feel embarrassed by two pieces of printer paper stapled together.Eventually, the checks came through. Jacob was able to repay every last cent, and we resumed using Venmo as we had before, albeit a little more cautiously, without letting requests expire into the 90-day abyss. But still, we’d been burned and stories of Venmo security breaches were starting to cause alarm — yet, not enough of a code red to stop using it altogether. Trying to figure out an equally seamless method of sharing finances as unmarried cohabitants seemed daunting. So, despite the glaring warning signs of scams and frauds , we kept moving forward dedicated to Venmo.Then, we hit the 2015 tax season.As Jacob began calculating his expenses, he realized that at least half of his write-offs — like our shared utilities, office supplies, and work-related meals — were tied up in Venmo transactions that had poofed away into the nothingness once they had been resolved. Luckily, I had kept track of the other half of most of them (via my very sound system of searching automatic bill notifications in my Gmail), but it was clear that it was truly time to rethink how Venmo fit into our relationship.Ultimately, we decided to keep using Venmo — only in a much more limited fashion. After all, it’s really meant to serve as a means to split the costs of fun activities with friends , not function as the main cog in a shared financial machine.Now, we use Venmo for small purchases, no longer relying on the app to carry the bulk of our money management. For that, we decided to open a new airline credit card with two authorized users. At the end of the month, we split the balance. This way we’re keeping better records, maintaining financial equality, and racking up travel points in the process. Also, throwing down one card to pay for the meal without an immediate Venmo request over dessert feels more spontaneous and romantic, even if we are just treating ourselves.Then again, in the time that I started writing this article, we got engaged and this whole new brilliant plan we devised — well, we may need to revisit it at some point soon. Maybe there’s a joint checking account in our future.And, no, there was no Venmoing involved in the purchase of my new ring, but Jacob did share that he wished he could have put the expense on our credit card to get the airline points. Fair. Very fair.