10 Years of Carrying My Husband’s Family—Now I Just Want to Let Go and Find Myself Again

I’m 35 years old, and so is my husband. We've been married for over a decade, and from the outside, it might look like we’ve built a relatively stable life. He works as a construction engineer, and I run a small clothing shop that I started after trying my hand at several different jobs over the years. Together, we earn somewhere between 35 to 45 million VND a month. It's enough to raise our two kids, but there's rarely anything left over for ourselves, our dreams, or even emergencies.

But what truly exhausts me isn’t just the financial pressure—it’s the emotional and physical burden of constantly having to take care of his family, with little to no help or appreciation.

My husband’s parents live in the countryside. They're both in poor health and have no steady income. His father hasn’t worked in years, and his mother suffers from chronic diabetes. Ever since we got married, every single family obligation—weddings, funerals, traditional rituals, death anniversaries—has somehow fallen into my lap. I’m the one arranging things, paying for things, managing the details. His siblings? They show up, eat, smile, and disappear without contributing a single dime or lifting a finger.

And all this time, my own parents—who are financially well-off—have never once asked for help from us. On the contrary, they’ve gone out of their way to support us. They even gave us the house we live in now, just so our kids could go to a better school and we wouldn’t have to rent anymore. But instead of feeling grateful or inspired to focus on our own family, my husband has continued prioritizing his extended family over us.

We have two children—one is in second grade, and the other is in fourth. I want to give them the best possible education, to invest in their future. But with how fast education costs are rising and how the value of money keeps declining, it’s becoming harder and harder to make ends meet. And while I’m worrying about how to afford school supplies or tuition, my husband is busy sending money back to his parents or helping out his siblings—none of whom have ever returned the favor or even offered a word of thanks.

It’s not just about money. It’s about how invisible I’ve felt. I do everything—take care of the kids, run the house, earn a living, fulfill social and family obligations—and yet, I’m constantly made to feel like it’s not enough. On more than one occasion, when I asked him if he had any money left because I needed to buy something for the kids, he would snap back, “Isn’t that enough? Why are you asking for more?” As if I were spending on luxuries instead of on our children’s future.

Eventually, something inside me broke. I realized I couldn’t live like this anymore—shouldering the responsibilities of an entire extended family while being emotionally neglected in my own marriage. It was like drowning while everyone else was standing on dry land.

I told him I wanted a divorce.

I no longer wanted to live in a relationship where I felt like a single mother and a caregiver to everyone but myself. My parents agreed to help take care of the children and cover their expenses, and I told my husband I wouldn’t ask for any support from him. His parents came over, wanting to talk me out of it, but I refused. I didn’t want to hear any more promises, apologies, or justifications. I needed freedom—from this burden, from the exhaustion, from feeling like I didn’t matter.

Now, we still live under the same roof, but we no longer speak. He tries to talk to me, to ask me to reconsider, but my mind is made up. I’m done sacrificing my peace for a sense of duty that was never appreciated.

All I want now is to pour every ounce of my love and strength into my children and their future. I want to rediscover who I am beyond being a wife, a daughter-in-law, and a caregiver. I want to find the peace I’ve lost over the last 10 years.