I always told myself I wasn’t going to write publicly about marriage, at least not until I’d been married for at least ten years and could claim “experience” (real or imagined). There’s so many additional reasons I haven’t wanted to write about marriage that mostly center on avoiding stereotypes; but this specific topic has been nagging me for nearly the entirety of my marriage, so I’m going to try to claw my way through my inhibitions and just be real with you. Finally, I do think there’s parts of this that will sound familiar if you aren’t married, so please bear with me.
I met SuperWife immediately upon returning from my honeymoon. She was waiting for me when my husband and I walked into our cozy new apartment, giddy from our first week of married life and first true vacation together. SuperWife is the pinnacle of elegance and grace, and she talks softly and sweetly, using only the kindest of words. She never gets angry or speaks out of frustration. She does the dishes, sweeps crumbs off counters and tables before anyone else sees them, and never forgets to move the laundry from the washing machine to the dryer. Her meals always meat every dietary requirement and are on the table promptly at 6:00 pm (only because she works until 5:00 pm, also saving the world outside her home). She is always perfectly put together and never flops down on a couch. Dirt has no place in her house and all insects are disposed of quickly and discreetly. SuperWife’s husband is the happiest man on earth because his home is a haven of relaxation and peace, never requiring his effort or attention.
In material reality, she is indeed a figment of my imagination, but in full reality she is my frequent tormentor.
The appearance of SuperWife was a total surprise to me. If you ask me to describe what being a “good wife” means, completing household chores will not appear on the list. Not because I don’t think they’re important, but because I believe successful relationships aren’t based on the completion of tasks. The wives that pull off maintaining their homes way better than I do are doing something far greater than the dishes; they’re caring for their families. And to be clear, none of the women I watched and learned from growing up–whether they worked in or out of the house–described a life or marriage like SuperWife’s.
Additionally, building my career has always been extremely important to me, which critically shaped what I was looking for in a husband. I’ve always sought out a partner who would work with me to manage the responsibilities at home and encourage me in my professional endeavors. While I never (at least consciously) expected my husband and I to nail this complicated dance on the first try, we don’t have kids yet so I figured we had a better shot of pulling it off while it’s just the two of us. The man I married is ready and willing to strive and fight for this balance, so that helps.
So to be very clear, SuperWife is my own creation and not the result of anything my husband or mother has ever said to me. Objectively, I don’t actually think she’s the kind of wife I want to be, but my subconscious appears to have evaluated the situation differently.
Yet, creeps into our home, lying to me about what my husband values in our relationship, lying to me about what is reasonable to expect of myself in the measly 24 hours allotted to me each day.
Frankly, she really sucks.
Regardless of where she came from, I have found that the more I talk about her and what she’s saying to me, the less power her words have. The first time I realized that SuperWife wasn’t pestering only me was over an impromptu lunchtime cup of coffee with a dear friend and colleague. Similarly disinclined to a strict adherence to traditional gender roles in her own marriage, we looked at each other in utter relief. I seriously thought I was the only one; the only woman who is trying to carve out her own space in the world and in marriage, but is haunted by the ghosts of TV mothers past.
Whether your constant destructive companion is SuperWife, or SuperEmployee, or SuperFriend, or any other secretly villainous superhero, they are lying to you. So, dear friends, let’s keep talking. And maybe the voices of those who love us will finally drown out the toxic lies we’ve internalized without even noticing.
Rooted in Grace, Growing in Love 