Years ago, shortly after the birth of my oldest son, I was desperate for a job. I poured over the classifieds section of every newspaper I could find, but the options were slim. My highest qualification was a high school diploma, and minimum-wage jobs wouldn’t even cover the cost of childcare.
One day, my ex said something that lit a fire in me: “Stop being so picky. You’re never going to earn more than minimum wage.”
I saw red. Fueled by anger, I stumbled across an ad that felt like fate. It offered free training to become a software engineer, professional certification, and even job placement afterward. The only requirement was a high school diploma with a passing math grade.
At first, I thought it was too good to be true—probably a scam—but I figured I had nothing to lose by investigating. The acceptance process was grueling. The first day involved hours of timed aptitude tests. Those who passed were invited back for a second round, where the pool of applicants dwindled even more. By the end, out of 30 candidates, only two of us were accepted.
And it wasn’t a scam. The training was free because employers footed the bill.
I was thrilled but knew the hard work was just beginning. For the next four months, I dedicated myself to the program. I spent 8 hours a day in class on weekdays, another 6 hours on homework, and 20 hours over the weekend on projects. I was exhausted, running on only 6 hours of sleep each night, but my determination to prove my ex wrong kept me going. Thankfully, my son was sleeping through the night by then, and my mom helped care for him while my in-laws pitched in with groceries and utilities.
In the end, I made it—and not just barely. I excelled in my final exams. The job search was short and sweet, as it was only three years before Y2K, and demand for entry-level engineers was sky-high.
When I got my first job offer, the salary was more than what my ex was making. Internally, I thought, Take that, you insufferable prick! but I kept it to myself.
As time went on, I received substantial raises and promotions. My career was taking off, but my ex couldn’t handle it. He was humiliated that I earned more than him and eventually asked for a divorce. I gladly took the opportunity to leave.
And that’s how my ex became my ex.
ETA: While I was studying, my mom took care of my son, and my in-laws helped cover groceries and utilities. My ex only managed to cover rent and gas.
