I never really thought I would get married. Even as a little girl, I didn’t dream about “my special day” or my future prince charming. Instead, I always thought I would live in some far off exotic place curing people of diseases while wearing white linen safari outfits. And sipping Gin & Tonics to ward off malaria.
But then I met Mr. P and discovered that I couldn’t imagine not spending the rest of my life with him. So we got hitched and thus far, I really like being married. I like having the world take my commitment to my relationship seriously. I like having a family (clearly I include four legged creatures under this familial umbrella). I like that I’m in this for the long haul.
What I do not like, is being a wife. By this, I mean the expectations that are heaped upon you because you are now a Mrs. (which, technically I am not because I didn’t change my name) I don’t like having people assume that it is my responsibility to buy birthday cards and christmas presents because, well- I’m the wife! I don’t like people sending me cleaning coupons and recipes because- I’m the wife! I don’t like people disregarding my last name and reducing my identity to Mr. and Mrs. P. I don’t like that is is my responsibility to worry about what to bring to a family gathering or holiday party because- I’m the wife! I don’t like people assuming that just because I am married, I will want to spend hours discussing their wedding menu and bridesmaids dresses because- I’m the wife!
Now maybe I internalize some societal pressures on my own and my inlaws, relatives and friends don’t really expect me to morph into Martha Stewart just because I file a joint tax return. However, I do believe that no matter how far we have come in achieving workplace equality and improved rights, we need to work on updating the definition of wife.

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December 4, 2007 at 8:06 pm
Agnes Liebowitz
I do know what you’re talking about…that folding in of your identity into that of your husband. It’s futile to convince the older generations that you are not your husband’s “spare tire”. Or (as a minister’s wife put it so succinctly) merely the “motor” to his boat. You are your own separate boat. The sacrifice of self should be equally divided and equally shared. I admire you for not changing your name.