More than once in the 3rd decade of the 21st century, I have heard men on the internet whine about “modern women.” They usually complain that women don’t understand their natural place anymore. The “natural place” they’re talking about is the home, with appliance in hand, wearing an apron, and preparing a meal or cleaning something for their male spouse. It’s fascinating to see just how many hundreds of thousands of years it took for women to stop working to grow and gather food alongside men for us to realize—and only temporarily—that helping to provide for and shelter our family wasn’t “natural” for us.
Personally, I am a fan of a comfortable and clean house, healthy and loved kids, and food on the table. But these are things Sean and I work together to provide. Because we both live in our house, we had kids together, and we both like eating food. I find it weird that there are men out there who also like to eat, want to wear clean clothes, want to have kids, and don’t want to live in a shithole, but have no idea how to take care of these things themselves. Or they just think, my mom did these things for me but now she says I’m too old for her to be doing my laundry and cooking my dinner so now I need a new woman who will feed me and clean up after me and also submit to sex with me whenever I want it. Just like Grandma did for Grandpa.
Trying to explain that this “natural” housebound state of constant cooking, cleaning, and suffocating your feelings wasn’t all that great for wives doesn’t really seem to resonate with these guys. Because remember, Grandma always seemed really happy to serve the men first and herself last. But maybe Grandma was actually deeply depressed and anxious about her life, and her male Dr. had prescribed her something to make her feel more “natural” as she carried out her wifely duties, day in and day out, excluded from public life and prevented from following her purpose in the world beyond feeding and cleaning up after these dudes’ sloppy little asses.
If you want a window into this natural state of perfect tradwife womanhood, check out these mid-century pharmaceutical ads all geared towards the less than happy housewife. This shit was real, and real miserable. Plus, none of these drugs being recommended to women were tested on women—including women in clinical trials didn’t become mandatory by law until 1993. Before then, we were just Adam’s rib, so what worked for him would work for us.
My Grandma was prescribed Valium with a glass of sherry, and she took it dutifully until one day she drove into a ditch after she passed out behind the wheel. After that, she started working part time at a hospital and volunteering weekly and by the time I was born, she was just happy to be alive and doing something other than (or in addition to) vacuuming.
Considering the skyrocketing rates of depression and anxiety, I can only imagine what kinds of drugs the tradwives of today are on. Personally, I’ll be a modern woman who’s channelling my hardworking Highland matriarchs and enjoying a partner who can take care of himself.
