When it comes to managing our home, my partner, Jason, is often viewed as the ideal spouse by my friends. “He’s the kind of guy who takes the initiative to unload the dishwasher without being asked,” my best friend once praised him. Indeed, Jason is the designated dishwasher operator, handling the loading and unloading without a hint of complaint. He takes care of the trash and recycling, bravely tackling even the most unpleasant odors from our toddler’s diaper bin. I often hear the soothing sound of the vacuum cleaner when I’m relaxing in the living room. He even cleans out the fridge at the first sign of spoilage and takes charge of grocery shopping, whipping up delicious meals.
If he were to star in a series like “Men Who Do It All,” he’d fit right in, effortlessly balancing domestic chores with charm while saying things like, “After I finish the laundry, I’ll handle the grocery run, and I’ll take the kids along so you can unwind.” Unlike many of my friends, I never have to remind Jason about chores. He simply takes them on.
So, one might think I’m the luckiest person alive, right? Yet, sometimes living with this domestic angel makes me feel like a total failure. Deep down, I often feel I should embody the traditional role of the “housewife.” My vision of a good mother is someone who juggles an overwhelming number of household responsibilities. I’ve read countless articles about how mothers still shoulder the bulk of chores, even when both partners are working full-time. Since Jason and I both have jobs, am I somehow cutting corners? While I contribute to our household in numerous ways that don’t involve cleaning or cooking, I still grapple with guilt.
Growing up, I wasn’t the tidiest person, and my family didn’t prioritize cleanliness. My father, a collector of all sorts, would get distressed if anyone rearranged his belongings. Consequently, our home often resembled a cluttered landscape. My mother, focused more on her career as an artist and her intellectual pursuits, didn’t place much emphasis on domesticity, which resulted in a laundry room overflowing with dirty clothes.
On the other hand, Jason’s upbringing was markedly different—his family didn’t frequently order takeout and never employed a housekeeper. I’ve never seen his mother leave dirty dishes in the sink, a common sight in my own childhood home.
Years ago, I wrote a heartfelt tribute to my mother for a publication, celebrating how she managed to pursue her passions, even at the expense of household chores. I considered her approach a form of feminist expression—not a model of the perfect housewife. At that time, a New York magazine featured an article titled “The Feminist Housewife,” discussing how many women despise housework yet still find themselves cleaning when given more free time. The writer noted that some women might feel trapped by an ingrained expectation of domestic perfection.
After my daughter was born, I began to resonate with those women who feel guilty for not being diligent enough in cooking or cleaning, despite my admiration for my mother’s alternative path. As a freelance writer who also cares for our child part-time, I thought I could maintain a balance. Jason has a similar work-life structure, and we generally share childcare responsibilities. However, during the early days of parenthood, I found myself obsessively cleaning during nap times and striving to cook more meals. I boasted to new mom friends about how much laundry I was doing, all while neglecting my identity as a writer.
I realized I was undervaluing my contributions to our home life. From my workspace, I manage our finances, handle mail sorting, and pay bills. I navigate the complexities of our health insurance as self-employed individuals, a daunting task that consumes hours of research. I also manage our taxes and have penned over 125 thank-you notes since our wedding and the arrival of our baby (I take great pride in proper etiquette). These responsibilities are crucial, but they often go unseen.
There are certain household tasks that fall to me, such as doing laundry and cooking a few nights a week. Yet, I frequently lag behind on folding burp cloths and baby clothes, often suggesting takeout instead. Many of my contributions are invisible and don’t involve physically demanding chores. Although Jason expresses gratitude for my efforts, I sense he sometimes feels burdened by the more labor-intensive tasks. He even jokingly refers to himself as the “custodian” of our family.
My therapist advised me to embrace my “modern marriage,” where Jason handles much of the cooking and cleaning, while I take on responsibilities traditionally associated with men. She pointed out that I have preconceived notions about what constitutes a “good mother.” I need to redefine that term for myself, similar to how my mother did. For me, it means prioritizing my writing career, aiming for my daughter to take pride in her mother’s professional and creative endeavors. I’ve started to use my daughter’s nap times for writing while finding less precious moments for household chores.
To fully embrace my contemporary marriage and motherhood, I must stop apologizing for not excelling in laundry or cooking. I have to genuinely appreciate Jason’s thanks for ensuring our taxes are filed on time. I must remind myself of the countless ways I contribute that don’t involve scrubbing or heavy lifting.
My new mantra is, “This family cannot function without you. You are vital.” While Jason may occasionally feel frustrated by the physical labor of household chores, isn’t some level of resentment a normal part of marriage? I’m a perfectionist, but perfection in motherhood or partnership is a myth.
So what if Jason takes on more of the “housewife” or “house-husband” role? But then again, those terms are outdated. Why do we need to confine our roles to gendered labels tied to domestic tasks? Both Jason and I contribute to our household in unique ways that don’t need to be defined by societal expectations.
In conclusion, it’s vital to acknowledge the diverse contributions each partner makes within a relationship, transcending traditional roles and embracing a more equitable partnership.