I hate to start blogging again on such a down note, but I guess that’s what makes me want to write in the first place… so you’ll just have to deal with it, I guess.
I just met with a financial planner. Let me first start by saying that HE sought ME out through LinkedIn and set up the meeting with ME. My husband and I got our stuff together when it comes to finances, so I didn’t think I needed any advice. I mostly agreed because he sounded nice on the phone, and because last time I met with a financial adviser I ended up tracking my income/expenses which started the whole financial-savvy that I enjoy today. So nothing bad could really come out of this. Right? Wrong.
We talked about a few things, where he said we’d be working to meet my goals. Then he asked me to rank my priorities from most important to least important to me. I started from the bottom (the ones that I care the least about) and worked my way up. He asked me why I didn’t care so much about death provisions or long term disability provisions. I told him because the risk was low, and because if one of us were to go away, the other would certainly be able to figure out how to live within their means. He looked at me skeptically, so I asked him what that look was for. He said that it is not true that we would be “alright” if one of us went away. I asked him why he thought that, and he said that a single parent on a single person’s salary would not be able to afford the house we have, and would certainly not be able to save for college as well as for retirement. I told him I disagreed: if we had to, we could certainly live below our means, move to a smaller house, keep saving for retirement, and continue to have my father save up for our son’s college. It’s a matter of knowing how to live within your means. He said that I had no idea what I was talking about. I started to get defensive.
He said that what he was hearing from me was that if I were not around anymore, I would not mind my husband and son living in a shack somewhere with no electricity or running water. To which I responded: “nah… they can have electricity.” I was kind of joking. Then he asked about the life insurance, and I again told him that we get it from work, and it’s not our main priority. At this point I’m starting to wonder why he’s focusing on the things I care least about, and not the things I care most about. I mean, I thought we were supposed to align our plan with our goals…
So he said that unless we understood that we needed a $1MM life insurance policy on each other, he didn’t think we would be a good fit to work together.
Um… come again?
He said that health was THE foundation to financial planning, and if we didn’t see that, then there was no point in continuing the discussion. He said it nicer, but I knew what he meant.
I told him: “So I’m basically going to go home to my husband and tell him that I scared you off” — to which he made a face that translated into “yeah, basically.”
So he said we should have a conversation on the phone with Brian and see where to go from here. I was so crestfallen at that point that I looked like I had just been broken up with. Really. It was heartbreaking.
He shook my hand and said goodbye, but he stayed sitting and took out his smartphone. So I stood up… and left…
It was the saddest scene you’ve ever seen.
So… do I need a $1MM life insurance? I don’t think so… I feel like it’s a morbid way to reassure your future, and it is unnecessary. It’s like you are placing a big bet on your significant other kicking the bucket. I do NOT want to benefit from something as horrible as that. I can’t even imagine. It’s just too morbid it doesn’t feel right.
There is a reason why the entire world looked down upon banks who hedged their portfolios by creating products that would succeed if the housing market fell. If you look at it objectively, it is a solid business call. But if you really look at it, the bank is benefiting from the loss that affected millions of people! That’s how life insurance feels to me. I have a basic life insurance that would help my husband navigate the awfulness of the situation and be able to support his lifestyle until he can figure things out. But $1MM? I’m sorry, but that is excessive, unnecessary, and a jinx.
This post is actually making me feel better. Maybe I don’t want to work with that guy after all. Set up a meeting with him or not? I guess I don’t care much for it. They are hound dogs, those financial people, aren’t they? Pff. Keep your judgment for someone who needs it, buddy.
ina
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