I didn’t trust my wife and decided to send my entire salary to my mother… but the day I went back home to collect my savings, a single sentence left me devastated. I always thought I was a prudent man. At least when it came to money.

…but the day I went back home to get my savings, a single sentence left me powerless.

I always thought I was a prudent man.

At least as far as money is concerned.

From a young age I grew up hearing the same words from my mother over and over again.

In our house, in a small town near Saltillo, money wasn’t just money.

It was security.

It was power.

According to her, it was the only thing that could save a man when everything else fell apart.

My mother always said something that stuck in my mind:

“A man who gives all his money to a woman sooner or later ends up regretting it.”

When I was a child, those words sounded exaggerated.

But over the years they began to seem reasonable to me.

Especially because my mother always had stories to accompany her advice.

Stories of men from the village who had lost everything.

One man had trusted his wife completely, and one day she left with another man, taking all his savings with her.

Another man had put the house in his wife’s name, and after a fight she kicked him out.

Perhaps some of the stories were true.

Perhaps others were exaggerated.

But when you hear the same thing for twenty years… it ends up becoming truth inside your head.

That’s how I grew up.

Based on the idea that a man should be responsible for his money.

And that, whatever happened, he should never relinquish total control.

At thirty-two years old I married Lucia.

We met in Monterrey, where we both worked.

I was an engineer in an industrial company and she was an accountant in a small logistics company.

Lucia was a good woman.

Peaceful.

Worker.