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This is crueler. It is the hour spent scrolling LinkedIn, looking at the careers of former colleagues who did not have children. It is the silent mourning of the high heels in the back of the closet. “I don’t want to go back to work,” insists Priya, 38. “But I want to remember the feeling of being good at something that isn’t wiping a counter. I escape into memories of my ‘Before Self.’ She was boring. She had no kids. But she drank her coffee hot.”
She is a Housewife Escapist.
We are familiar with her cousins: the Doom Scroller, the Wine Mom, the Day Drinker. But the Escapist is more subtle, more cunning, and far more literary. She does not escape from her life out of despair; she escapes into other lives out of necessity. The laundry is done. The pediatrician appointments are booked. The in-laws have been thanked for the birthday card. On paper, she has won. And yet, the victory feels suspiciously like a cage. housewife escapist
“One night, my husband caught me crying over a YouTube video of a woman walking through a Tokyo fish market at 4 AM,” recalls Sarah Jenkins (the one from Denver). “He was terrified. He thought I was depressed. I wasn’t. I was just hungry for a world that didn’t require anything from me.” This is crueler
In the fantasy, she is the one making the request. Or better yet, she is silent. She is just there . Watching the rain in Edinburgh. Walking the empty fish market. Alone. “I don’t want to go back to work,” insists Priya, 38
At 3:17 PM on a Tuesday, Sarah Jenkins is not in her suburban Denver kitchen. Her body is there, mechanically dicing an apple into rabbit-shaped slices for her youngest. But Sarah is in a tiny bookstore in Edinburgh, rain lashing against the leaded glass, a stranger’s hand brushing hers as they both reach for a worn copy of Wuthering Heights .