We all know the story of the Little Red Hen. Who will help me plant the wheat, who will help me harvest, bake etc and then everyone came running over when it was time to eat the bread. Cute little fable.
Yeah, your ex husband remembers that story, too. He thinks all the bread is his, even though there are actual pictures of you harvesting and baking.
I’m like most women. We were conditioned to want to take care of a home. Nest, decorate and clean. Society tells us we want nothing more than to get married and start a family. Our husband will be our best friend, partner, we’ll share everything! Doesn’t it sound wonderful? We’ll be equal partners!
Sure.
So, I gave up my brick and mortar business to move 2500 miles away to a different coast. My husband pressured me into it for months and I finally gave in. He said he would be the provider, we’d finally buy a house and there was no talk of what I would do. I’m not sure why I didn’t think about that one. I thought oooh, I’ll open a new shop or website or ? Skies the limit. I’m a WIFE now! I’ll have so many cool things ahead of me!
Anyway… I centered my husband. I made sure he was taken care of, that was my first duty. His mood was always on my radar, his needs were always first. Was he hungry? Needed a coffee? How’s his underwear situation? Does he need anything. I better get on it, with a fucking smile… I’m a WIFE!
That was year one. As the years went on, I was doing all this silent labor. Bills, tax liens from the years prior to getting married on his end, cleaning, repairs, fulfilling needs, planning trips, packing for trips, filing paperwork, calling maintenance people, knowing what to do next, refinancing the house, insuring the house, buying presents, taking care of the dog, snake abatement. All of it was pretty invisible. But necessary. He worked full time, I did everything else. Like, everything. I thought it was a fair trade off. I brought in some money, but it was part time.
At one point, he hated his job and wanted to switch careers. I was apprehensive but rode that wave. It fell through and I made sure to encourage him to look for something else, anything else, to help lift his mood. He was so angry, so fucking miserable. We even got into marriage counseling at that point.
But, the skies opened up and he was offered a job that paid twice as much as the one he was leaving. Then they doubled that… and then tripled it. He was advancing and well loved at his new workplace. I was so happy for him. He was respected and valued. Finally.
At that time, I had to work harder to keep his mood up. To tell him how good he was at what he did. I really went out of my way to make him feel good. I felt like that was my job as a WIFE! I made him feel so good that I got pregnant. Like a good little wife.
I didn’t make as much as him, but I always put it into the home. He spent most of his own money on his hobbies, but I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t need much, we were comfortable enough. I was a good wife.
But, he was blowing through the savings, our money market, his inheritance. He hadn’t started paying into his 401(k) until very recently even though I begged him to start earlier. I think of what we could have done with that money. Investment properties, charity, home improvement. Hundreds of thousands of dollars on his hobbies. But, if I said anything, he might spiral and get angry. Again.
And I was told that alllll that I did above did not make me a good wife. Only sex and leaving him alone made me a good wife. He didn’t reveal this information until 20 years in. So I wasted alllllll that time doing shit he didn’t respect.
I fucking hate the word WIFE now.
Then here comes the divorce… guess whose house it was? Guess whose money it was? Guess whose 3% mortgage it was? Guess who put us into debt so I wouldn’t get a penny more?
Mr. cock of the walk.
And most men would say “that’s my guy!”
So, you… yeah, YOU… the person who wants to be a WIFE… please, please PLEASE have your own money, do NOT pour into a man. Do not trust him, do not lose yourself or give up a career to fill this thankless, tireless, empty, invisible role. Too many of us have been burned by it. Too many of us have figured out the hard way that he can decide to not want you at any moment and *poof* you are out.
Women would warn me… .”a man isn’t a retirement plan” and I didn’t listen. I thought as long as I kept him happy, everything would be fine. Why was I so naive? Why was I so trusting? I have no answer. I’m just SO angry that I didn’t think this through.
This is exactly how I would rewrite the Little Red Hen:
Her husband took the bread, called it his and shamed her for not having more sex with him.
The end.
p.s… ChatGPT keeps outdoing itself with these images!
