I hesitate to leave my exhausting jobs fearing judgment from my well-off in-laws

At 34, I come from a poor, mountainous region. The image of a mud-covered child carrying firewood, often overlooked on social media, was once my reality. Growing up was challenging for me with several siblings, a debt-ridden father with no stable employment, and a mother who was a poorly paid teacher in a remote area during the early 2000s. Their constant disputes fueled my resolve to leave poverty behind.

Resolved to avoid a life of collecting firewood, climbing mountains, picking bamboo shoots, and navigating streams—where I once narrowly escaped a sexual assault—I diligently studied to gain entry into a teachers’ college in the mountains while earning my keep as a tutor. However, after graduation, my family’s financial constraints prevented me from securing a job, and I rejected the notion of marriage through matchmaking to obtain employment. Fortunately, I secured a position with a South Korean project, initially as an assistant secretary and subsequently assuming various roles across different departments. My starting salary was three times higher than average at the time.

I lived frugally, saving diligently, and within just over two years, I managed to purchase a plot of land valued at nearly VND200 million (US$7,888). Additionally, I pursued a second degree in accounting, which took two and a half years, during which I struggled to balance work and study. I devoted my youth to work, studies, and savings until nearly 30, choosing to remain single. Among the nearly 40 South Korean bosses, I was regarded as nothing more than a model employee committed to professionalism.

After the project concluded, I relocated to Hanoi with my bosses, settled down, and married a Hanoian military lecturer. His family is quite prosperous, and despite their farming origins, they are very close and supportive of their children. However, due to my husband’s military commitments, which frequently require him to be away for training, I faced challenges managing our finances and childcare needs, having had two children in quick succession. Despite my in-laws’ wealth, I largely refrained from depending on them, opting instead to hire caregivers for my children and enrolling them in school early.

After the birth of my second child, I managed to acquire three more plots of land in my hometown, now worth over VND3 billion, and received a suburban plot in Hanoi from my parents.

There was a period when my husband encountered investment losses, prompting my in-laws to liquidate some of their extensive land holdings in Hanoi to settle his debts, which strained family relations. Having been independent from a young age, and now that my husband has completed his education and earns about VND20 million while I make approximately VND30 million, we have opted to live independently. Though we still lack stable housing and vehicles, this arrangement has significantly eased our burdens. Nonetheless, my days are filled with managing duties at two companies, caring for our children in the evenings, and studying Korean during any free time.

The relentless demands of work leave me drained and irritable. I am not cut out for business, possess a gentle demeanor, and often find solace in cooking, reading, cleaning, and gardening, yet these activities often lead to sleepless nights. I have previously sought treatment for an anxiety disorder, utilizing a combination of Eastern and Western medicine along with meditation. As I age, maintaining stable employment becomes increasingly challenging, heightening my stress levels.

Despite this, my fear of unemployment and becoming dependent on my husband is overwhelming, so the thought of quitting is unfathomable.

My husband and I hold no joint assets, which complicates our ability to support and understand each other. Although he genuinely loves me and our children, he is hesitant to engage in household tasks. It was only after numerous intense arguments and considerable effort on my part that he began to assist slightly. Should the situation become unbearable, I am prepared to leave, taking my child with me. The prospect of being homeless and separated from my child is daunting, so at times, I yield to my husband’s wishes to maintain our family’s unity.

Lately, my aging parents, both 70, have been embroiled in constant disputes, considering living apart or divorcing. This situation concerns me, especially since my mother, who doesn’t have a good relationship with my brothers, lives far away with some children in HCMC and others in Hanoi. She confides only in me and desires to be close to me, compelling me to continually strategize for my future and seize every available opportunity.

How can I find balance in my life?