Representational image.

Talia Loderick, The Independent

I got my nails done in June. For the first time in nine years, I treated myself to a professional manicure rather than doing it myself. And, thanks to a birthday gift voucher from a friend, it cost me nothing. I loved it so much I got another manicure three weeks later, this time paid for out of my own pocket at a cost of £32. I was speaking to a loved one (who shall remain anonymous), telling her how the simple act of getting my nails done had lifted my spirits, but that I’d decided not to make a habit of it. I explained that I’d run the numbers, and spending £32 twice a month totaled £768 a year. I’d rather put that money towards my savings goals.

Her response? “You should tell (unnamed female relative) that, because she wastes so much money getting her nails done. Every week she’s in that salon.” My response? A huge sigh. Why should my spending decisions be pitted against someone else’s? What’s it got to do with loved-one-who-shall-remain-anonymous what unnamed-female-relative spends her money on? Why are we so judgemental about other people’s money?

It’s telling when people describe money as being “wasted” versus being “spent”. The very words we use tell us what expenses are deemed worthy. But just because somebody spends money on something we wouldn’t doesn’t mean that purchase is a waste. Often, people who are adamant about what you should and shouldn’t do with your money actually mean “you should do what I do”. But they need to understand: our financial priorities may differ from theirs. We’re individuals with different incomes and outgoings and commitments and priorities. And that’s OK. Then there are money trolls who stalk the comment sections of online money diaries to carp at people who spend £4 on a daily coffee, £32 on a manicure, or rent a home instead of buying.

Pitting renters against homeowners particularly irks me. Referring to renting as a “waste of money” conveniently sidesteps the hurdle of a deposit that needs to be saved before you can buy. Not everyone has a bank of mum and dad they can borrow from. Then there’s the “damned if you do, damned if you don’t” judgement. In some quarters, leasing a car instead of buying one outright is looked down on. In other quarters, swapping your new lease car for a paid-in-full second-hand motor invites judgement. A coaching client of mine did the latter and freed up hundreds of pounds a month to put towards paying down her mortgage. Yet she felt the weight of judgement from family who she knew would view her less flashy car as a downgrade from what she had previously. The pressure to keep up with the Joneses is real.

It’s no wonder that it’s so hard to talk money in our society, even with loved ones. People don’t want to listen, they want to advise — they don’t want to offer support, they want to judge. Personal finance. The clue is in the name: it’s personal. We all have our own individual relationship with money based on our emotions, beliefs, values, habits and attitudes. Judging and shaming people for how they manage their money doesn’t help. In fact, it makes people less likely to seek help. “I feel ashamed and don’t want my loved ones to find out,” is one of the main barriers to getting debt advice, according to debt charity Stepchange.

Telling people that getting their nails done — or any other nice-to-have-but-not-essential spending — is a waste of money is unhelpful. It associates being good with money with cutting back on the things that bring people joy. Here’s what’s actually supportive: helping people get clear on their income and outgoings, so they can decide if they want to spend money on getting their nails done (or whatever their equivalent treat may be), or whether they’d prefer to cut back and prioritise other financial goals. So please, let’s have a little less judgement, a little more empathy, and embrace curiosity over criticism. And sometimes, well, just mind your own business. At the end of the day, it’s not your money.