I’m 34 years old. People might think I have an ideal life: I don’t have to rent a house, and I work in a management role with an average salary of VND30 million (US$1,186). At work, I’m known as a dedicated employee. In my private life, I’m admired by friends, and respected by my teachers, who even consider me a role model for future students. I credit my rural background and awareness of my parents’ hardships for my commitment to education. With hard work, I pursued my studies and earned a master’s degree.
After years of working and saving, I now have two land plots. Though they’re not of particularly high value, they represent something I take pride in. I earn enough to comfortably support myself and my child, help both families financially, and save up to 50% of my salary.
But there wouldn’t be much to discuss if my husband were someone who cared about the family and shared the responsibility of building a stable home. I don’t expect him to be successful or support me financially—I just want him to be more responsible and attentive to the family, which means showing love toward me and our child.
As for his background, he’s the son of his father from an out-of-wedlock relationship, so he didn’t live with his father from a young age. Occasionally, his father would visit, providing money to support him and his mother. With money arriving effortlessly, his mother developed a generous, almost wasteful lifestyle—cooking more food than necessary, giving away extras, or discarding leftovers. This led my husband to grow up with an indulgent mindset.
When we met, he held two jobs but eventually quit both, saying the salaries were too low, and returned to work for his father, who ran a car business. However, my husband, who isn’t as quick-minded as his father and favors a relaxed lifestyle, was frequently scolded by him. When his father passed away, he inherited part of the family’s assets, which only encouraged his indulgent habits. Now, most of that inheritance is nearly gone, but he still shows no motivation to find work. I’ve tried pushing him and even introduced him to job opportunities, but he only applies half-heartedly or ignores them altogether.
Some may wonder how he manages financially, but he doesn’t worry because his mother supports him. I’ve warned him repeatedly about the struggles we might face without his father’s support, but he just gets angry. He has a very short temper. When we had our child, we agreed to each contribute VND5 million monthly for their expenses. While he managed initially, he eventually stopped. When I reminded him, he grew angry again, so I suggested he take care of our child’s school fees instead, while I handled the rest of their expenses.
A month ago, when my child’s school fees were three months overdue, the school contacted my mother-in-law. She informed me, seemingly expecting me to pay. I refused and instead lent the money to my husband, hoping he would grasp the consequences I’d warned about. He ended up selling more of his father’s remaining assets at a low price to cover our expenses.
I assumed this might encourage him to focus on work and save, but I was wrong. As soon as he got paid, he and his mother rushed to an electronics store, bringing in technicians to replace the TV and refrigerator and renovate the motorbike, despite them all working fine. Naturally, they didn’t tell me, knowing I’d object to the wastefulness. When I found out, I just sighed, no longer surprised by my mother-in-law’s behavior. She always has at least five pairs of shoes, some never even worn. When I became her daughter-in-law, she even “gifted” me three pairs she rarely wore.
We also clash over parenting methods. I aim to raise my child to be independent and proactive, but my husband and his mother don’t share this approach. My child is nearly four, yet my mother-in-law still insists on carrying them down the stairs. She brings food to their room, feeding them there—like what she does for my husband, even though I bought a dining chair for them to eat on their own. As a result, that chair only gets used on weekends when I’m home.
I don’t want my child using a phone often, as I prefer they play, explore, and engage with family. But my mother-in-law lets them play on her phone for hours, simply to keep them still and avoid supervising them. When I voice my concerns, both she and my husband get upset, thinking I’m being difficult. This has left us unable to communicate effectively. Right now, I feel trapped in a stifling situation.
While my office work can be stressful, it’s a relief because I don’t have to face my husband or mother-in-law. My child is at school, learning from the teachers. But my hardest moment comes when I get home, finding dirty dishes piled in the sink and toys and books scattered on the floor.
I’ve shared my frustrations with my husband repeatedly, but he remains silent. His routine consists of taking our child to school, having breakfast, then playing games or browsing online until dinner, when his mother brings his meal to him. With such pampering, he seems to care only about his mother, paying no attention to my feelings.
I don’t feel connected to this life. I see myself becoming stagnant, more irritable, stressed, and exhausted, with no progress. I worry that if my child stays in this environment, they’ll develop habits of indulgence and dependence on others. Still, divorcing and moving out with a young child seems daunting—I lack the courage right now. My plan is to wait a year and a half until my younger sister moves to Ho Chi Minh City for university. Then, I’ll buy an apartment for us to share, giving me peace of mind. But waiting feels unbearable.
Should I follow through with this plan?
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