Hi, sweetie. Remember how you told me that your childhood crush was Laura Ingalls Wilder? And that you think America is in the toilet? Well, you’re about to have all your home-churned-butter dreams come true, because I’ve decided to become a tradwife.
Like the other pretty, milk-fed traditional wives on Instagram and TikTok, I want to return to the glory days of the 1960s. Or the 1940s? I’m not entirely sure, but whatever time it was when women served their husbands homemade Pop-Tarts and America was a better place for white men with weak chins, I want to return to it. That’s why I’ve quit my six-figure job: to take better care of you and all of your needs. I’m going from breadwinner to breadmaker.
Of course, quitting my job means losing our health insurance, but now I’ll have more time to cure us with my tinctures and homemade vaccines. Who needs a PPO when you have mason jars and an eye dropper? The next time Tyler gets an ear infection, I’ll just make a poultice out of my law degree certificate and pray it away.
You might be wondering why I’m talking to you like a whispery woman from a 1985 commercial for douching products. Well, that’s all a part of it, dear. Tradwives speak in sexy baby voices, because Jesus can’t hear women who are shrill. Isn’t it cute? It sounds even cuter when I talk about how to keep immigrants from crossing the border.
By the way, as part of this life change, I’ve also taken steps to legally change Tyler’s name to Ezekial Oak. I think it will help him to adjust to our new lifestyle with a more godly, manly name. I’ve also canceled travel soccer and signed him up for an amazing course on animal husbandry. (I’ll admit this has less to do with Christ and more to do with the fact that I just can’t anymore with all of the driving and snack-buying.)
Just think of how impressed your coworkers will be when we show up at the next company party. My high-necked prairie dress with matching bonnet will show them how powerful you are to have such a chaste and respectful piece of arm candy. “Is there something wrong with Brad?” they’ll whisper. “Is he, like, in a cult now? Should we tell HR?” But really, they’ll just be jealous that you have a wife who respects gender roles by ironing your underwear and pickling her own beets. You’ll get that promotion in no time flat.
I admit that my decision to become a tradwife wasn’t purely selfless. Yes, I want you to feel like you’re a king and give you the confidence to reach even bigger heights at the marketing firm. But to be honest, I’m also worn out from constantly trying to be an equal in this country. Reproductive rights, equal wages, and the ability to exist are all super overrated. It’s much easier to wake up at 4 a.m., put on full makeup, and hand-make cheese for your frittata than it is to lead a board of directors meeting.
I can’t wait for you to tell me who I’m voting for this year.
Listen, I know this is a big change for us, but I hope you lean into our new @TradWifeTaylor lifestyle. Just put your feet up, enjoy the Cuban cigar I hand-rolled for you at dawn this morning, and thank God that through the sacrifice of my ambition, needs, and desire to scream, “What the holy fuck is even happening to this country!?” we’ll have 100,000 followers by next week.