There are things in life that arrive without warning. Sometimes they bring joy, other times, they knock the breath out of you. In early 2024 just before Ramadan, a month usually awaited for its calm and clarity. I received news that made my knees feel weak.

My husband told me he had been quietly laid off.

And at that moment, we had just welcomed a newborn into our little world.

In the midst of the bliss of becoming new parents, in the middle of feeling our tiny family finally complete, our main source of income vanished. It felt as though we had just learned to stand, only for the ground beneath us to shift without mercy.

At that time, the industry was swept by the so-called Tech Winter, a wave that hit the technology world hard. Startups and tech companies were cutting costs, freezing hiring, and conducting mass layoffs. Investor funding slowed, digital growth stagnated, and many companies were forced to downsize. It wasn’t just happening abroad, Indonesia felt the tremors too.

My husband became one of its casualties.

And that’s when reality struck: we still had to live, still had to pay for daily needs, still had to give the best we could for our baby, even though our main income had suddenly disappeared. I wasn’t given much time to cry or panic. After my husband lost his job, I slowly realized that I had to step into a new role, one I had never truly imagined for myself. I had to become the backbone of the family.

The role didn’t come with ceremony or congratulations. It came with a weight on my chest that grew heavier, little by little.

Being a new mother already drained so much, sleepless nights, changing hormones, learning to understand a tiny human. And then came the sudden financial pressure. It felt like carrying a burden far too heavy for shoulders still learning how to be strong.

We both learned that a household isn’t only about sharing joy, it’s also about sharing the weight, even when the load isn’t always evenly placed.

Becoming the family’s backbone was never a title I sought. But when life pushed it into my hands, I learned to wear it slowly. Each day, a little more familiar. Each day, a little stronger.