After years of maternity leave, caring for our three kids back to back, I’ve been aching to work again.
I can’t even describe how badly I’ve wanted to return to the workforce. I’ve taken on part-time remote gigs whenever possible, and for years, I quietly saved every spare cent into a fund—for my education. My plan was to shift careers and finally go full-time once the kids were old enough for school.
Everything was going according to plan… until I accidentally overheard my husband, Jack, talking to his friend Adam.
Adam: “Man, your wife is amazing! My Linda said Emma’s going back to school—that’s incredible!”
Jack (laughing): “Get real! You think I’d let her blow that cash on school when I’ve got an ancient TV and PlayStation? I already used the money to order new ones.”
I froze. My heart dropped. He did what?! My legs nearly gave out.
I was fuming. Furious didn’t even begin to cover it. But instead of confronting him right away, I took a breath—and came up with a plan.
A few days later, Jack walked through the door and exploded: “WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!”
There he was, standing in the middle of our living room, staring in disbelief. The brand-new TV and PlayStation he’d been expecting? Gone. In their place: a laptop, textbooks, notebooks, and a full set of supplies—the college starter kit I bought for myself using the money he had tried to hijack.
He blinked at me. “Emma, seriously? Where’s my stuff?”
“Your stuff?” I replied, raising an eyebrow. “You mean the things you bought with my college fund? The money I’ve been quietly saving for years to finally pursue my dream?”
He flushed. “It was just a TV, Emma. You weren’t even using the money yet.”
“But I was. I am,” I told him, standing firm. “I’ve been the stay-at-home parent, the cook, the cleaner, and the part-time worker. I’ve supported everyone else’s needs. Now it’s time I support mine. That money wasn’t just sitting around—it had a purpose.”
He started to respond, but nothing came out. The guilt on his face said more than any words.
The days that followed were icy. Jack sulked. We barely spoke. I threw myself into my classes, juggling lessons with childcare and chores, determined not to let anything derail me.
Then, about two weeks later, as I was deep in coursework, Jack stood quietly in the doorway.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
I shut my laptop and nodded.
He sat down beside me with a sigh. “Emma, I messed up. I was selfish and didn’t think about what that money meant to you—or how hard you worked for it.”
His words hit hard. Tears welled up in my eyes. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear that.
“Jack, it’s not just about the money,” I began…