Wife-Zillas

My friend invited me for drinks with a group of her co-workers, most of whom were married. One woman in her early 30s was what I call a Wife-zilla: someone who bases her entire identity around being married—and therefore, superior. An early Sex and the City episode called this type the “smug marrieds.” It so fits. She’s the wife who replaces all singular pronouns with “we,” and inserts talk of her husband, kids and wedding china into completely irrelevant conversations. You could be debating Condoleeza Rice’s terror policy, and she’ll be like, “Oh! I got this great stainless steel rice cooker from my Williams Sonoma registry.”

Being such an independent Sagittarius, I get irritated when people assume that my entire life revolves around my wedding and being a bride. As though suddenly I have absolutely nothing else to talk about. Unless it’s old, new, borrowed, or blue, no comprendo, amigo.

After showing me pictures of her children, this particular Wife-zilla nudged me conspiratorially, “So, are you thinking of little ones?”

“In a couple of years,” I replied. “Maybe one.”

“Well you’d better get started, girl!” she hooted. “You’re 34. Time’s running out!”

I swear, if there wasn’t a death penalty…

Maybe I’m being unsympathetic. She could just be in “bridal afterglow.” I can imagine that after being licensed to act like the center of the universe for a year, showered with gifts and money, and stamped with society’s ultimate validation, the rest of life pales in comparison. Sure, you can have kids, but that comes with dirty diapers and elastic waistbands — hardly the same perks. I’m actually relieved that I’m buying a house, because it gives me something to look forward to beyond the wedding—a distraction of equal proportion.

Whenever I fear becoming a Wife-zilla, I remind myself that the way I act as a bride will probably be how I act as a wife. And beyond that, the way I acted when I was single probably paved that road long before. When I asked the Wife-zilla what she loved about being a mom, she answered, “I was an only child, and I was totally spoiled and selfish. Having kids forced me to care about something beyond myself.”

Ah-ha. So as a kid, it was always her way, and now she’s woven that into her version of wife and mother.

I know I’m being hardcore today. We all have our karmic life lessons. But brides and wives, please remember: center of the universe disease can be toxic to your friendships. Rather than force-feed our values to each other, I wish we could simply share our “recipes,” then live and let live.