Throwaway for obvious reasons because my husband knows my main.
Ten years ago, I was at a crossroads that felt like a Mediacorp drama plot. I had two paths: a boyfriend who was a literal multi-millionaire (private jets, family business, the “tai tai” starter pack) and a guy who was—and still is—struggling to clear his monthly CC bills.
Everyone told me the same thing: “Choose the one who treats you right. Money can be earned, but character is forever.” I listened. I walked away from the business class flights and the landed property life for “Love.”
Fast forward to today, and the reality of Singaporean life is hitting me like a ton of bricks. We are the definition of the “sandwiched generation.” Every month is a calculated battle of Excel sheets. While my friends are posting IG stories of their 5-star Kyoto trips, I’m at FairPrice comparing the price per 100g of frozen chicken breast vs. fresh.
The “what ifs” are loudest when it comes to our kid. It breaks my heart that I have to choose between a decent enrichment class or saving for his future university fund. If I had stayed with my ex, my son would be looking at international schools and a trust fund. Now? We’re debating if we can afford the extra optional CCA fees.
The kicker? My husband’s financial sense is honestly non-existent. He’s the type to buy a round of drinks for friends when we’re down to our last $200 for the week because he “wants to be generous.” It drives me insane.
But here’s the conflict: He is quite literally the perfect partner. When I’m sick, he’s the one brewing TCM herbs and handling 100% of the housework. He is a super hands-on father—the kind who actually knows the names of our son’s teachers and spends his weekends at the free public playgrounds making up imaginary games. He treats me like a princess in a HDB flat.
Sometimes I look at him and feel so much warmth. Then I look at our bank balance and feel a cold, sharp regret. In Singapore, can love truly sustain you when the cost of living is rising faster than your husband’s stagnant salary?
I’m tired of being “strong” and “choosing love.” I just want to go on a holiday without checking my bank app every five minutes. Am I a terrible person for wishing I’d chosen the money?
TL;DR: Chose the poor “good guy” over a millionaire 10 years ago. He’s an amazing dad/husband, but being broke in SG is a different kind of hell.