I Wish I Had A Wife

Maybe We Should All Have Wives

You know, I spent the entire car ride to work today thinking about how lesbians are on to something the rest of us have not caught on to. Having a wife is so cool.

I am being very serious.

I spent last weekend with my friend and let me tell you, I had the best time ever. Yesterday she brought me grapes in bed at 7AM and then served eggs for breakfast before 9am. I didn’t have to do a single thing during the entire weekend. I simply existed, rested and breathed. At some point, I cooked lunch because something in me wanted to reciprocate. That is what being cared for does to a sensible human being.

That’s when it struck me; this is what wives do. No wonder men want them so badly.

We romanticize the title “wife” too much for an institution that is not romantic. The institution of the wife is not romantic one but an operational one. A wife is not just a partner; she is the system that makes everything else work. Food is always cooked. Clothes are clean. The house smells like someone thought ahead. Children are alive, fed, clean, emotionally regulated enough to exist in the world. Schedules are remembered. Family politics are managed. Health issues are monitored before they become disasters. And you know the most mind blowing thing about this all, all of this happens daily, effectively and repeatedly.

This is the value women bring to people’s lives, and it is enormous.

A man’s ability to “focus,” “build,” and “provide” is directly tied to how much invisible labor a woman is doing behind him. The freedom to dream, to plan, to be visionary does not fall from the sky. It is bought with hot meals, clean spaces, emotional buffering, sexual availability, social intelligence, and relentless presence. Someone is holding the ground steady so another person can stand tall on it.

The world likes to pretend this labor is natural. That women are better suited for it. Women’s labor often gets treated like something that does not require acknowledgment, reward, or rest. Yet the moment it stops, everything collapses. All of a sudden, everyone is suffering and families start calling meetings left and right. Suddenly, everyone remembers how important women are, but only to demand that they resume their duties. And this is not even the most insidious part.

When a wife performs her role excellently, it is normal. Let her just fall even a little short of expectations and the corrections come pouring in. She is corrected loudly. Publicly. Religiously. Culturally. In every institution that supports the family, there is a ready-made script for reminding her that she is failing. The world will back her husband without asking questions. A wife’s labor is compulsory, and her exhaustion is considered misconduct.

The global economy is powered by women’s unpaid labor. Women waking up early. Women managing scarcity. Women stretching resources. Women absorbing stress so others can function well.

This is why having a wife feels like winning a cheat code at life. Your home is perfect. Your life runs smoother. Your mind is clearer. Your future feels possible. And the cruel joke is that society trains women to provide all of this while shaming them for wanting recognition, partnership, or relief.

I really could use one of those. And wouldn’t even have to pay her. She has already been taught to take pride in serving endlessly, loving selflessly and enduring gratefully because this is an honor. Once you experience what women pour into other people’s lives, it becomes impossible to unsee the scale of the extraction.

Wives are the infrastructure of adulthood. And until we learn to see that clearly, honor it properly, and redistribute the burden, we will keep praising women with words while feeding off their labor with our lives.

This was supposed to go a totally different direction but I got mad halfway so I guess this is not a love letter.