The trophy wife
In an alternate universe, that would look like a mix of Bridgerton and Crown, I want to be a trophy wife. Far away from pseudofeminists and men like Prince Charles ofcourse. I have seen this dream of do it all woman for a little too long now. To be a Sheryl Sandberg or a Sudha Murthy. Turns out finding husbands like theirs’ is more like a halley comet event.
I always believed that I am built to be Erin Brockovich. I was born in a generation where it was constantly fed into my brain that women are no less than men, smash patriarchy, pay the bills, clean the fans, open the bottle caps. (I struggle with caps but I can do rest of the things).
What if I don’t want to do all these things? What if I just want to be the pretty woman? I am tired of waiting for the guy who will remember my coffee order and surprise me with flowers at work. So maybe I should try a different outlook. You can take me to an opera in your private jet and I can tell you how to walk on the grass. I am more than a pretty woman anyway. You can be the bread winner of the family. You can pay for my manicures. I will accompany to your office parties and use my fancy MBA degree to indulge in a conversation on “Which stocks to invest in” or “ What does it take to make a partner in the firm”.
I recently took upto cooking. I will make sure you have a healthy diet, make atleast one meal a day for you, cut some fruit for you, push you to exercise, and kiss you bye to office everyday. I will take recipes from your mother to make your favorite food. I will take care of the house while you are gone, do some gardening, laundry, grocery shopping, and lounge in a chair facing my favorite window that gets the right amount of sun and read my favorite books.
I don’t dream of unreasonable things. I just want you to be home at a decent hour, where we enjoy a meal together, and you can go on and on about your day. We’ll go on holidays now and then(no I don’t want to ski). You can be the perfect husband in my parents’ eyes who provides for me. All I want you to do is, to love me, to acknowledge what I do for you if you can’t remember my coffee order. Take me to bookstores and long drives on weekends. I can be your Gloria, or Claire. You choose.( Both the women are hot anyway)
In this universe I am just a twenty something women tired of meeting emotionally stunted men. Maybe in an alternate universe I will be the perfect trophy wife to this imaginary husband who will not just parade me around but treasure me dearly. A girl can dream, right?
