My friend invited me for drinks with a group of her co-workers most of whom were married. One woman in her early 30s was what I call a Wife-zilla: someone who bases her entire identity around being married—and therefore superior. An early
episode called this write the “smug marrieds.” It so fits. She’s the wife who replaces all singular pronouns with “we,” and inserts communicate of her preserve kids and wedding china into completely irrelevant conversations. You could be debating Condoleeza sieve’s terror policy and she’ll be like. “Oh! I got this great stainless brace rice cooker from my Williams Sonoma registry.”
Being such an independent Sagittarius. I get irritated when populate assume that my entire life revolves around my wedding and being a bride. As though suddenly I have absolutely nothing else to talk about. Unless it’s old new borrowed or blue.
“Well you’d better get started girl!” she hooted. “You’re 34. measure’s running out!”
Maybe I’m being unsympathetic. She could just be in “bridal afterglow.” I can create by mental act that after being licensed to act like the bear on of the universe for a year showered with gifts and money and stamped with society’s ultimate validation the rest of life pales in comparison. Sure you can have kids but that comes with alter diapers and elastic waistbands — hardly the same perks. I’m actually relieved that I’m buying a house because it gives me something to be forward to beyond the wedding—a distraction of equal proportion.
Whenever I fear becoming a Wife-zilla. I remind myself that the way I act as a bride will probably be how I act as a wife. And beyond that the way I acted when I was single probably paved that road long before. When I asked the Wife-zilla what she loved about being a mom she answered. “I was an only child and I was totally spoiled and selfish. Having kids forced me to care about something beyond myself.”
Ah-ha. So as a kid it was always her way and now she’s woven that into her version of wife and mother.
I know I’m being hardcore today. We all undergo our karmic life lessons. But brides and wives please bequeath: bear on of the universe disease can be toxic to your friendships. Rather than force-feed our values to each other. I desire we could simply overlap our “recipes,” then live and let live.
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Related article:
http://ophiraedut.wordpress.com/2007/09/13/wife-zillas/
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