• Wendy Osefo is one of the stars of "The Real Housewives of Potomac."
• She and her husband have three kids and want them to be financially set up for success.
• They set up a trust for their kids but haven't told them about it — yet.

This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Wendy Osefo, one of the stars of Bravo's "The Real Housewives of Potomac." It has been edited for length and clarity.

My husband and I wanted our children to be financially secure if something happened to us unexpectedly or as we got older. So, Eddie and I met with an attorney and created a trust for our family.

We made sure there was an addendum that said they could get additional funds if they achieved certain goals, like learning our native tongue of Igbo or earning a Master's degree. We also included activities and extracurriculars we would like our children to do, such as joining my sorority or my husband's fraternity.

We tried to envision our children growing up and the milestones we wanted them to accomplish. Our attorney told us that if we were no longer here, the people we entrust to look after our children would have a clear plan of how we wanted to raise our children. We really took that to heart, and that's what made us create the addendum.

It took us over a year to finalize the trust, and it's still being edited. It's a very detailed trust. There are provisions for how Eddie and I should be cared for in the event of our passing and for our future grandchildren.

God willing, I'll be here til I'm 90 years old, but my kids, who are 11, 9, and 5, can start accessing the trust once they graduate from college. Before that, they can draw on the trust to buy their first car, pay their college tuition, or start a business.

My children don't know about the trust, and I want to keep it that way for a while

I've told my children, "You have to get a Master's degree if you want some additional funds," but they don't really get the concept of a trust. I think it's something that we'll have future conversations with them about.

I don't want them to know that there's a trust, which is their safety net. I want them to live life and accomplish the things they want.

I feel like the first time I would like them to know about the trust is if one of my children said, "Hey, mom and dad, I want to start a business." And then I can say, "OK, we will take it out of the trust."

Outside that, I don't want them to operate based on navigational signals from the trust. If you achieve those milestones, you get an added bonus; if you don't, then there is no harm or foul.

College is something that Eddie and I want for our children

Growing up with a Nigerian heritage, college was very important and something you had to achieve. I understand that college is not for everyone, but college was not an option when I was raised. It was a matter of "Where are you going to go to college?"

A lot of times, I feel like there's a pervasive narrative pushed on communities of color that you don't have to go to college, and I don't think that's fair because I don't see that same narrative often being pushed on white communities. So, I want to make sure that my children can achieve educational success as well.

I have four degrees, and Eddie has four degrees. It's just something that we value in our household. It's an Osefo thing.

Every family has the right to value different things in their household. It doesn't mean that it makes you less than if you don't value education.

Incentives are part of the trust, but it's not how we parent in daily life

When I was growing up, there were no incentives for school or chores. I was just told what to do. It was more like, "If you are a good child, this is what you do."

Eddie and I are definitely different that way. We are not forcing our children to do the things written in the trust, but if they do them, they get an incentive.

My friends think the trust is a great idea. My mom has a different opinion. She thinks kids should do the right thing and not be rewarded for it.

My kids are only incentivized for what's in the trust. Other than that, I agree with my mom that you make your bed, do the dishes, and take out the trash because that's what you're supposed to do.

We're trying to build generational wealth

It's really important for everyone to have life insurance if they can. Our life insurance rests within our trust, so if and when something happens to us, it gets paid into the trust.

The trust buys life insurance for every person and generation that comes after us, creating generational wealth within our family.

Basically, you have created your own family bank. And when you do that, you can borrow against the family bank if your grandkids ever need a loan.

My kids will be financially taken care of regardless of whether they do anything written in the trust. Still, if they want additional funds, they can do things to get that bonus.

Nandini Maharaj is a freelance writer covering health, wellness, identity, and relationships. She holds a master's degree in counseling and a doctorate in public health.

• I had a stable, six-figure job, but the pressure to always reach an ever-rising bar was suffocating.
• At 28, I needed a change. I sold nearly everything and moved to Austria to harvest grapes.
• I'm now 4 months into my wine journey and have discovered my life's purpose.

I woke up at 2 a.m. to slamming doors, followed by six pairs of sleepy footsteps. Even though it was summer in Burgenland, Austria, no warmth reached us during those early hours. Yet, between our laughter and singing, we barely noticed.

We arrived at the vineyard just before 3 a.m., the full moon hanging overhead. Armed with shears and headlamps to guide us, we filed into the vineyard rows like soldiers, performing the synchronized ritual that has existed for centuries: picking grapes for wine harvest.

Three weeks prior, my life was entirely different.

I had a stable six-figure job as a senior marketing manager at a real estate tech company, where I spent most hours of my day sedentary at a desk, staring at my computer screen.

As a biracial woman of color, the pressure to reach an unidentified, always-rising bar began to suffocate me.

After two and a half years, work left me unfulfilled and lacking purpose, and I felt like I'd outgrown my current life. At 28, I was itching for a radical change.

The question that changed my life

Parallel to my marketing career, I maintained side hustles working for wineries along the Central Coast of California. While I dreamt about pursuing this full-time, I was warned it wouldn't become a viable career.

Then, my friend asked me over the phone one day: "If you had no obligations or budget, what would you be doing right now?"

I instantly answered: "I want to work a wine harvest in Europe."

That night, a couple of friends in the industry helped me create a list of European wineries specializing in natural wine. I spent hours firing off emails, asking if they had any open positions on their harvest team.

It was mid-July and harvest in Europe typically begins in late August or early September, so I hoped my message would meet the right person at the right time.

Four hours later, I received an offer from a biodynamic winery in Austria. I immediately accepted.

My decision to drop everything and move abroad was clouded with uncertainty

Of course, I questioned my decision. I worried about running out of money and blowing through the savings I'd spent years growing.

Despite yearning to leave the confines of an office, I wasn't sure I would enjoy the manual labor that harvest required.

My internship abroad would be just under two months, but I wondered if I'd be able to find a job afterward and what my plan would be once my three-month tourist visa expired.

It was all underpinned by one fear: Is this worth upending the life I'd built? But my desire for freedom superseded any risk. I decided it was worth finding out.

In a matter of weeks, I quit my job, packed my life into two carry-ons, and booked a one-way ticket to hand-pick grapes with strangers for less than $500 a month.

Working harvest brought new and unexpected opportunities

An international group of 13 intrepid travelers became my new community on and off the vineyard.

Living in close quarters, working together, and sharing almost every meal formed an accelerated bond — some even got matching tattoos to commemorate the season.

Life was exhilarating, engaging, and always new — very different from the corporate world I'd left behind.

I learned how to identify a perfectly ripe Gruner Veltliner, what barrel fermentation sounds like, the art and science of biodynamic compost, and how grapes feel squished between your toes.

My head hit the pillow each night fully satisfied from the challenges and experiences of the day.

Continuing to learn about winemaking and viticulture felt like the right path. I also had the freedom to work on projects that interested me at my own pace.

I discovered my new life's purpose

I've learned there's no singular way to succeed in the wine industry.

Since leaving the US, I've found a community of wine professionals, including journalists, servers, and cellar hands.

They are some of the most open and selfless people, ready to share their connections, knowledge, and homes when they learned about my plans to work in vineyards and write while traveling.

Their boundless generosity has led me to gain experiences I wouldn't have otherwise. For example, I spent time with a third-generation winemaker at his tiny vineyard in Slovenia, eating home-cured prosciutto and sipping through his entire portfolio.

On a recommendation from that Slovenian winery, a winemaker invited me to join a private cellar tasting with his harvest team in the Dolomites.

After that, I contacted a couple running a vineyard in the English countryside. They invited me to stay at their house to help them press grapes and bottle pet nat, a type of sparkling wine.

I'm now in England and leaving for Australia soon

I'm four months into my wine journey abroad and have no regrets.

Once my EU tourist visa expired, I came to the UK and am currently in England, working with one of the country's few biodynamic wineries.

In three weeks, I will board a plane to spend a year in Australia on a Work and Holiday Visa. There, I accepted a job as a cellar hand on a winemaking team for their 2025 vintage.

I've been living off the money I earned at the Austrian vineyard and a modest budget I set aside from my previous job.

I have barely needed to dip into my savings, thanks to affordable hostel rooms, staying with friends and family, and winemakers opening their homes to me throughout my travels.

My belongings still fit (mostly) into two carry-ons. What I've gained, however, is a thousand new possibilities for my life, plus a few bottles of wine.

• I grew up in the US but moved to Italy in my 20s. I now split my time between the two.
• There are pros and cons to living in Italy. I don't love the slower pace of life.
• I'm also a homebody and haven't adjusted to Italians' overly extroverted lives.

I moved to Italy in my 20s after a summer study abroad in Rome during my senior year of college.

What I thought would be a few months of living "la dolce vita" in the historic city turned into much more after I met my now-husband and my internship turned into a full-time job.

Seven years later, I split my time between my first home, the United States, and my second, Italy.

Despite calling the US my real home, living overseas has changed my mindset, and I experience culture shock every time I transition between countries.

The most shocking cultural differences are the little things in daily life

A big part of the "la dolce vita" concept is that life moves slower. Who doesn't love the idea of unlimited coffee breaks, shorter working hours, and August spent beachside?

In reality, it's not so pleasant at times.

I'm lucky if I can finish a task in a day. Italy isn't as "online" as the US, so you're better off going to a place in person rather than trying to call or email.

For example, when I was trying to sign up for the national healthcare system, I went to the address listed on Google Maps, only to find an unmarked building with a locked door.

I waited for someone to come out so I could sneak in, and thankfully, I was able to find the registration office. However, contrary to Google Maps, it was only open from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m. three days a week, so I was out of luck and had to return another day.

Even after living in Italy for many years, it's still difficult for me to settle into this slower pace, especially in the weeks after returning from the US.

Daily life back in America is much more comfortable and requires much less energy. I'll take the DMV over an Italian post office any day.

What's socially acceptable in each country is difficult to adjust to

Despite being a city of more than 2.5 million people, Rome feels like a cluster of small villages. Locals tend to live, work, eat, and shop in their neighborhoods, and everyone knows everyone.

The close-knit community made it hard for me, as an outsider, to fit in at first. This was even more difficult because I wasn't used to Italian socialization, where asking personal questions and openly staring at others isn't seen as rude as it is in the US.

So, in the beginning, people would probe me, asking things like how my family accepted me living so far from home.

I remember calling my mom one day crying after walking through the neighborhood and feeling like all eyes were on me.

However, I've gotten more comfortable in Italy over the years, especially after I became fluent in Italian, which significantly boosted my self-confidence.

Italian culture has also changed my perspective on what's socially acceptable in the US. If Italian society is overbearing, American society can feel a bit isolating.

Back in the US, I sometimes find myself accidentally overstaying my welcome or oversharing. I've also come to find it odd how easy it is to break a social bond. It only takes one wrong move to be ghosted, even by a friend.

This starkly contrasts the "village" mentality in Italy, where most relationships are long-lasting. Friends can yell at each other in the street one second and then make up and go for gelato the next.

It's hard to get used to the different spaces we live in — in Italy and the US

One thing I have never adjusted to after all these years is how little time Italians spend in their homes.

The traditional Italian home, which is pretty tiny, isn't designed for people to spend a lot of time there. As a result, people spend most of their free time socializing outdoors.

In the mornings, everyone has coffee at the bar. At lunch, colleagues go out. After work, most have an aperitivo at their favorite watering hole.

Since food and wine are relatively inexpensive, dinner is also often eaten out. By the time that wraps up, it's time for bed.

By contrast, I grew up a homebody in the US and am still a homebody, which makes me the oddball out when I'm in Italy.

Seeing the way Italians live, though, has left me in awe of the typical American home, decorated to personal taste with private green space.

As I drive home from the airport in Missouri, seeing how much wide open green space there is never gets old.

Italy can be challenging, and I know I'll never stop being surprised by the cultural quirks, but I feel fortunate to have the best of both in my life.