I don’t like referring to myself as a wife. Even though I am one (#remarried). I’ve considered adding “wife” to my social media bio, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
After leaving an abusive marriage, the thought of ever calling myself a wife was like: hell no. The definition of what a wife is and should be was so convoluted and crazy that I vehemently hated the title. If “wife” meant what the ex said it did, then I wanted nothing to do with it.
His version of a wife was someone who was subservient: prepared to obey unquestioningly. Someone who was less important. Someone who did all the household chores. Someone who emotionally supported him in everything he did, but someone he didn’t have to support. Someone who was in the background, so he could stay in the spotlight. Someone who really didn’t matter aside from what she was able to do for him. Someone who didn’t expect anything from him, ever. Someone who didn’t mind him never apologizing and never taking responsibility for his actions.
Growing up, I wanted to be a wife so bad, for what seemed like forever. When I finally became one at the way-too-young-age of 20, I thought it would be everything I dreamed. I was stoked to have “wife” be a key part of my identity. I figured that was what I had been missing. I thought I would be so much more important when I had a ring on my finger, and I told people I was married. I was freaking proud of myself. It felt like some huge accomplishment.
Little did I know that importance, value, and worth do not come from a relationship status. In fact, my relationship status has nothing to do with what makes me matter as a human. But I bought hard into the lie that it did, and because of that (and a bunch of other factors, which you can read about in my memoir once it’s published), I found myself in an abusive relationship with absolutely no clue that abuse existed as anything other than physical violence.
I was secretly miserable as a wife, but I didn’t even know it. I struggled with anxiety, depression, panic attacks and an eating disorder. It was a grand old time of horrible emotional mind-bending that ironically left me questioning my identity more than ever. I lost more confidence the longer I was married. I lost my ability to think for myself. I lost a lot.
Wife equaled a soul-sucking drain on who I was, that required more than I could give, and did not refill my emotional tank. There was so much confusion that clouded everything that I honestly thought I was the one to blame for any problem. I questioned my own sanity. Being a wife didn’t make me a better person, it changed me into someone I hardly recognized. Someone who was more like him than I was myself.
The entire time though, I still thought being married and being a wife was the greatest thing ever. Strange, right? Abuse messes with your mind. I didn’t know at the time, that I needed to take into account how I felt in the relationship to start to see the patterns and begin to realize that something was very wrong. I clung to every memory in the marriage that was great or pretty good, and systematically forgot and discarded anything that didn’t fit into the great or good category. This allowed me to maintain the illusion, in my own head, that the marriage was perfectly fine and wonderful.
It wasn’t until the marriage dissolved that I realized the actual state of it, and the extent to which I had changed and the craziness of what I had gone through.
As you can see, the title of “wife” didn’t create warm and fuzzy positive feelings. It reflected a hellish, mind-mangling, distorted period of my life.
I’m remarried, and it’s finally everything I thought a marriage should be: an equal partnership that is mutually beneficial. We have a deep connection that continues to grow. I’m genuinely happy, more confident and less anxious. My husband makes me feel loved, important and valued. He respects me. He supports me. I don’t ever have to question how he feels about me.
It isn’t the title of wife that has made me an amazing person magically like I thought it would as a teenager. Working on my self-awareness, personal growth, having great friendships, a relationship with God and therapy have all contributed to who I am today. I don’t need to identify as wife to know that I matter, which is why for me I don’t see the need to identify as a wife first and foremost. I’m just a human, who happens to be married.
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