In her debut novel, Pourquoi, bestselling author and trainee psychotherapist Jemima Atar examines, among other things, the intricacies and obstacles that can emerge when a relationship brings two people of different classes and backgrounds together. In this exclusive article, Jemima offers guidance on how best to navigate inter-class relationships.

By Jemima Atar

In my upcoming literary fiction novel, Pourquoi, two characters of differing social status, Delphine and Cameron, form an enriching yet controversial and ethically questionable relationship.

Delphine has an upper-class European background while Cameron, whom Delphine initially approaches for psychotherapy, is middle-class British with a working-class background.

Commencing with their therapy sessions, the two spend a lot of time discussing their pasts — both being intrigued with, and at times startled by, each other’s social standing and history.

Delphine and Cameron learn about themselves and each other by coming up against their differences and processing them, but, equally, there are moments in Pourquoi where the distinctions between the two are so striking that they become a little jarring, and it begs the question: how can a relationship like this work?

For Delphine and Cameron, class difference is not their biggest issue. Nor are there any specific moments when their relationship is in question as a direct consequence of their respective status.

Yet relationships between people of different social classes and backgrounds — be they romantic, familial, or based on friendship — face unique wonders and struggles that are important to discuss.

Difference and diversity within relationships is a beautiful thing; it can enlighten, complement, and contribute to a more integrated and developed worldview.

This can be particularly true for inter-class relationships, but it is also worth mentioning that such a situation is not free from challenges.

Social class can have a huge impact on one’s values, interests, and experiences. It can affect people’s views on education, social justice issues, and work-life balance, to name just a few.

Thus, people from different social classes forming relationships might find that they have to do some work to ensure they have enough things in common.

Picture the following scenario. You have just started a romantic relationship with a man of much higher social status. He comes from an upper-middle class family, and while you’re doing pretty well for yourself financially, you sense that his background is one that is very different from yours.

A few months in, and you both decide it’s time to meet his family.

Bestselling author and trainee psychotherapist Jemima Atar is currently working on her debut novel. The unforgettable relationship between Pourquoi’s brilliant yet troubled characters is crying out for a Hollywood adaptation.
Bestselling author and trainee psychotherapist Jemima Atar is currently working on her debut novel. The unforgettable relationship between Pourquoi’s brilliant yet troubled characters is crying out for a Hollywood adaptation.

The two of you have had many discussions surrounding your respective upbringings, and you’ve been fascinated by your partner’s anecdotes about growing up wealthy, but you’re unsure what to expect.

Now that you are meeting his parents, you are surprised to find that your partner’s family is down to earth and much more ‘normal’ than you could have imagined. Everyone welcomes you and you find yourself getting on well with the crowd.

Then, a few hours in, your partner’s mother starts talking about holidays, mentioning how wonderful it would be for you to join their next big family trip.

She seems to harp on the subject, as though expecting an immediate answer. Your partner looks at you knowingly (you’ve discussed the likelihood of a lavish invitation such as this coming up, and he warned you beforehand), and politely tells his family that the two of you will have to think some more before accepting the offer.

And anyway, he continues, you will want to spend more time with his family first before embarking on a big trip all together.

Now, what’s going on for you in this interaction?

It’s likely that a part of you feels grateful for the accepting and welcoming attitude exuded by your partner’s family.

At the same time, you also feel a little pressured and awkward, the offer having taken you by surprise although you discussed it with your partner beforehand.

You feel desperate not to appear as though you are taking advantage of your partner’s status; you want both your partner and his family to know that you are not with him because of his money.

As a consequence, you feel a little stuck: it would be rude to decline the invitation, but rude to take the offer too soon … and what on earth could you offer your partner in return for something so lavish? Yes, he had said there was no expectation at all to return the offer, but you still feel you would have to.

And that’s not to mention what your partner might be feeling. Shame, perhaps, at his family’s obvious declaration of wealth? Pride? Discomfort? Scared at the thought of having to be a mediator between your wishes and his family’s? Second thoughts about your true motives in the relationship?

As Jemima Atar has already proven with her first two books, 2021’s Grief and Her Narrative: A Memoir of Sudden Therapist Loss and 2022’s bestselling poetry collection you are safe now, no other author can manage to write so hauntingly yet healingly at the same time.
As Jemima Atar has already proven with her first two books, 2021’s Grief and Her Narrative: A Memoir of Sudden Therapist Loss and 2022’s bestselling poetry collection you are safe now, no other author can manage to write so hauntingly yet healingly at the same time.

This scenario illustrates some of the many ways in which class difference can become apparent in relationships, hopefully pushing all the parties within the interaction to become more conscious of how they feel and how they present themselves in relation to each other.

To say that class differences in and of themselves cause issues in relationships, and therefore people of different classes should not mix, is obviously untrue, outdated, and unhelpful.

A more realistic approach is to be honest about the fact that social status and background, whilst not necessarily indications of incompatibility in themselves, do influence us and our values to a great degree, and may therefore affect how aligned we are with the people we enter into relationships with.

Similar analogies can be drawn, for example, for people of differing religious beliefs in relationships, people from different cultures and countries, and people growing up in different family structures.

So, what can people entering into, or already in, inter-class relationships do to maximise the likelihood of having healthy, fulfilling connections?

First, acknowledge and discuss. When people in a relationship can feel comfortable enough to engage in potentially difficult discussions about differences such as these, moving away from an ideology of ‘blindness’ in favour of open communication, the potential for understanding, compromise, and the bridging of relational gaps is greatly increased.

Compromising fairly is truly essential, and every couple needs to find their own agreements that work for them.

For example, compromising may be needed with regards to financial commitments, holiday arrangements, leisure activities, financial expectations, and more. Compromising might mean meeting in the middle (sometimes holidaying luxury style, sometimes holidaying with a budget), or, for other couples, compromising might mean allowing one another to live life in their own way (one wears expensive clothes, the other wears less-expensive clothes). Creative solutions are essential to successful compromising.

Second, be sensitive. Money can be a touchy topic, inducing many emotions and memories in people throughout the social status spectrum. Make sure to keep checking in on how you and others in the interaction feel when talking about money.

Third, if you are able to, dig deeper. Inter-class relationships can allow for a profound examination of our own associations with class.

Our various classist biases and preconceived notions, as well as our personal relationships with money, become apparent when we explore what having a higher or lower social standing has been like for us and the people we are in a relationship with.

If we can sit with the discomfort of acknowledging our privilege or our pain with regards to this issue, holding space for whatever comes up in ourselves and others, then we are on the road to actually using difference in a positive and proactive way in our relationships.

Fourth, do some work around establishing your values and preferences, especially when it comes to the things likely affected by class, such as education, raising a family, where to live, spending habits, saving habits, holidays, work, and so on.

Jemima Atar is an author of great versatility. Her first book, Grief and Her Narrative, is a non-fiction memoir dealing with the little-explored territory of losing a therapist, while you are safe now comprises a collection of raw and powerful poems on the theme of sexual abuse.
Jemima Atar is an author of great versatility. Her first book, Grief and Her Narrative, is a non-fiction memoir dealing with the little-explored territory of losing a therapist, while you are safe now comprises a collection of raw and powerful poems on the theme of sexual abuse.

There are many online resources that can help us to understand what our core values are, and when people in relationships find that they are aligned on many (or at least some) of these, they are more likely to be compatible long-term.

It is also important to be aware of red flags; for example, someone with less money wanting to be with someone of a higher social status in order to take advantage of them, or someone with more money seeking to control someone with less money by roping them in and subsequently manipulating them.

Such actions are obviously not conducive to healthy relationships, and we must be alert to the possibility that this may be happening to us.

Ultimately, navigating relationships with people of differing social status is about accepting ourselves and others, looking inwards to learn more about how we feel and behave in relation to the issue of class, getting to know our biases, compromising with others, and embracing difference while also working towards finding enough similarities in our relationships.

Jemima Atar is the author of Grief and Her Narrative: A Memoir of Sudden Therapist Loss and bestselling poetry collection you are safe now, both of which are available on Amazon. Visit www.jemima-atar.com or follow Jemima Atar on Twitter.

Exclusive Extract from Pourquoi

In this exclusive extract from Jemima Atar’s forthcoming literary fiction novel, Pourquoi, upper-class Delphine finds out more about therapist Cameron’s working-class background.

“You know, Cameron, I didn’t expect you to like hip-hop.”

“What did you expect?” he smiled.

“I totally thought you’d be a classical music guy. Bach and Beethoven and that’s it. But the hip-hop…it’s like that’s another version of you.”

He agreed. “I do like classical music, but I’d prefer hip-hop any day. I guess it does relate to another version of me. The me from my past, maybe.”

“In what way?” I asked.

“Well, the lyrics in those songs…I suppose they relate to the way I grew up. A lot of the songs are about cycles of poverty, about living in really harsh conditions, about having to fight to make it…I feel a sense of solidarity with that.”

I looked at him, letting the silence urge him to continue. He hesitated for a few moments and then he carried on.

“I grew up really poor, in East Essex. We didn’t have heating where I lived. It wasn’t safe…people got killed all the time on my street, drugs were always available – sold outside my door, actually.” The nonchalant way he described such extremities transfixed me. I felt a mixture of awe and shame – shame at the upper-class privilege that would forever prevent me from fully getting into Cameron’s world. Most of all, I felt a deep longing to know more.

“Wait, no heating? But how did that work? Wasn’t it freezing?” I asked a little brainlessly.

“I think I just got used to it. The worst was when I woke up – having to walk from the bedroom to the shower. That was hell – it was so, so cold.”

I shivered just thinking about it. “How did you get out? How did you make it to one of the nicest areas in London?” I asked. “By the way, you don’t have to answer anything if you don’t want to.” I was so fascinated, but I was also shy about delving into his former life.

“I appreciate that. I am fine to talk about these things; it’s interesting for me to think back to them, actually. How did I get out?” He paused to think about it. I wanted to hear every word he was saying; I wanted to listen with every one of my senses that could listen. “My brother and I really valued education. We were the first of our family to go to university. None of my family or my friends from back there ever formally studied, and they really didn’t understand why my brother and I were so passionate about it. They still don’t.” He had a faraway look in his eyes, and then he gradually came back, looking at me with a half-grin. “Yeah,” he said slowly. “I guess that’s how we got out…because of education.”

He saw me staring at him, so he commented, “It’s very different to your upbringing, isn’t it?”

“Oh God, yeah,” I said. “I come from a long line of people who value education above all else. Part of the reason my parents moved to London was because they wanted us to have the best possible education.”

He smiled. “Yes, that is different. They made a good choice, your parents.”