“My Husband Wanted a Stepford Wife—He Got a Lesson Instead”
Just a week into our marriage, my husband handed me a frilly apron and called it my “house uniform.” He claimed it was “just tradition,” inspired by his mother. I was stunned—but I played along.
As a former analyst who had agreed to try homemaking, I embraced the role—with a twist. I cooked breakfast at dawn, vacuumed in pearls, and embroidered “DEREK’S FULL-TIME HOUSEWIFE” onto the apron. Then, I started calling him “sir.”
At a dinner party, I introduced myself as his devoted housewife. Guests were baffled. Derek was humiliated.
Later, I calmly reminded him: “Your mother chose that life. You chose it for me.”
The reality hit when HR questioned him about his “traditional values.” He realized the harm in his assumptions.
“I saw a lifestyle I admired… but I didn’t think how it’d feel for you,” he admitted.
Now, the apron’s shoved in the closet. I’m back in jeans, job hunting, and firmly myself.
“The scent of victory is sharper than lemon polish—and I wear it better than any uniform.”
