Sometimes, me yapping about a lot of things get me some personal stories and letters that I think may resonate with others. So I’m sharing someone’s story and take on that matter. Yes, I know I talk a lot about my own financial independence (for sure, therapists, armchair or otherwise, will connect it to my childhood trauma).
Dear C,
JUMP TO
ToggleThere are so many layers to moving abroad for love and partnership, and you absolutely shouldn’t feel bad about being financially dependent on your partner right now. Remember, you’re the one who left behind your career, your home, and the familiar. You’re also the one carrying your shared child—a huge contribution in itself.
I did the same. I moved to Germany for my partner, and while I didn’t need financial support initially because I had a great teaching career in Vietnam that helped me save up, I still felt bitter, frustrated, and even a bit lost in those first couple of years. My savings started to run dry, I couldn’t find a job that resonated, and I missed the warm sea that felt so close back home and in Vietnam.
There’s a certain alienation that comes with moving to a foreign country where you don’t speak the language. It’s a lonely space that only other foreigners can truly understand. In our partner’s country, they are not the foreigners—we are. And it will remain that way for some time. You may speak English, but perhaps not in the way ________ do, while my German is next to nothing.
And let’s not forget—you’re pregnant. Pregnancy and motherhood will inevitably slow your career down. They call it the “motherhood penalty” for a reason.
But you can choose to reframe this experience. This is a season that passes, and babies grow so fast; before you know it, they’ll be teenagers, and those early years will be cherished memories. Your child won’t be small forever, and there’s nothing wrong with leaning on your partner financially right now, especially since you’ll likely be the main caregiver in these early years. It makes sense that your partner takes on the financial responsibility.
If you’re eager to regain financial independence, know that there will be time and opportunities later on. Having been in your shoes, here are a few pieces of advice that might help you on this journey.
Build your skill set. Regardless of the job you’re aiming for, one of the best things you can do during a job search is to actively build up the skills that employers in your field are looking for. When I transitioned from teaching to content marketing, I studied job postings carefully. I looked at what tools, software, and skills were most often required for the roles I was interested in, and I made it my goal to learn them. The digital world is full of resources, so I took advantage of LinkedIn Learning courses in SEO, marketing, and Google Analytics, among others, to familiarize myself with what employers were seeking. Even if you’re not fully qualified in a certain area yet, showing you’re actively developing these skills demonstrates initiative and adaptability—traits any employer will value.
If you’re eyeing specific industries, like I was with renewable energy, energy tech, and solar energy, then look for industry-focused courses to give yourself a competitive edge. Platforms like EdX offer specialized classes that can help you understand sector-specific challenges and trends, making you more prepared and confident in interviews. Not only does this targeted skill-building improve your resume, but it also equips you with the language, tools, and context of the industry you want to join. Employers appreciate candidates who show an active interest in the field, and building your skill set is one way to bridge the gap between where you are and where you want to be.
I can’t speak for _______, but here in Germany, the job search is an endurance game. It’s a process that can take months—sometimes even years—before you finally land something that feels like a good fit. It was humbling, even disheartening at times. I’d come from a place where, within a month or two, you’d usually be in a new job, starting fresh. But here, I felt like I was stumbling in the dark those first couple of years. I felt unqualified, like I was missing something everyone else seemed to know.
Expect rejections. A lot of them. Some applications might not even receive a response, and the silence can be discouraging. But understand that it’s not just you—many people go through the same experience, especially as immigrants adapting to new job markets, new expectations, and sometimes even new languages. Patience here is not passive; it’s an active choice to keep going, to keep refining your applications, to keep networking, and to keep learning the ins and outs of this unfamiliar job market.
During this time, remind yourself that these rejections don’t define your worth or your capabilities. They’re part of a larger process of adjusting to a system that may operate very differently from what you’re used to. Use this period to build resilience, to get comfortable with the uncomfortable, and to deepen your own understanding of your skills and your value. And if you can, find small victories along the way—a strong networking connection, positive feedback on your CV, or even a new skill picked up while waiting. These small wins add up, even when the journey feels slow. Remember, patience isn’t just waiting—it’s persisting. And eventually, when the right opportunity does come, you’ll know it was worth it.
Navigating job applications in a new country can feel overwhelming, especially when things like CV formatting and cover letters are shaped by cultural expectations. Who would have thought that something as straightforward as a resume can look so different from one country to another? Here in Germany, for example, resumes and motivation letters have their own structure and style that’s nothing like what I’m used to back home. It’s likely that Australia—and many other places—are the same.
So, don’t try to reinvent the wheel. Do your research, but more importantly, reach out to those who’ve successfully navigated this process before you, especially other immigrants who have faced similar hurdles. It’s incredibly valuable to connect with someone who understands not only the job market but also the unique experience of finding work as a person of color, coming from a developing country, in a predominantly white society. These connections bring insight beyond formatting; they can offer advice on how to highlight your skills confidently and prepare you for biases that, unfortunately, may still exist.
Finding work in a new country isn’t just about landing a job; it’s about understanding how to present yourself in a way that speaks to the local standards while staying true to who you are. Asking for help is not a sign of inadequacy; it’s a step toward empowerment, a way to access the knowledge that will put you in the best possible position to succeed. And remember, by reaching out, you’re building a support network—a community of people who’ve been where you are, who know what it takes, and who are there to help you rise.
Individualism and independence are important, yes, but being part of a partnership means embracing the strength and support you can share with each other. When things get tough, leaning on your partner isn’t a sign of weakness—it’s a recognition of the trust and love that forms the foundation of your relationship.
There’s beauty in allowing someone else to carry some of the weight, in sharing life’s burdens as well as its joys. It doesn’t take away from your strength; if anything, it deepens it. Allowing yourself to lean on your partner means you’re brave enough to be vulnerable, to admit that life isn’t always something we have to handle alone. It’s trusting that together, you’re stronger than either of you could be alone. And sometimes, that support, that shoulder to lean on, is exactly what you need to recharge, to find your own footing again, and to move forward with a little less weight on your shoulders.
Moving abroad is a journey that no Instagram post can capture fully. Social media often makes it look effortless, like an endless adventure of beautiful places and new experiences. But what you don’t see is the self-doubt, the questions you ask yourself daily, and the many lonely moments. It’s harder than you’d expect—trying to feel at home in a place where everything feels unfamiliar. You leave behind routines, relationships, and even parts of who you were. And yes, there are more tears than anyone tells you.
But it’s okay to feel that way. Each struggle, each tear, and each doubt is part of growing into a new version of yourself, one that’s strong enough to weather these changes. So be kind to yourself. Allow yourself to feel lost, to miss home, to question everything. This process, though difficult, is a sign of growth and resilience. One day, you’ll look back and realize you weren’t just building a new life—you were building a new strength within yourself.
Thank you for sharing your story. I hope I help in any way.
Kindest,
Jona
Hi there, I’m Jona, originally from Cebu, Philippines, had live in Hanoi, Vietnam, and now currently based in Munich, Germany. This blog used to house thoughts on life and books, but eventually it morphed into a travel blog. For collaborations, projects, and other things, please email me at backpackingwithabook@gmail.com. For essays, creative nonfiction, and others, find me elsewhere.
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[…] absolutely nothing wrong with being financially dependent on your partner, especially if you’re the main caregiver. It’s a role that deserves respect and recognition. […]