Musings by The Poet Loriet
Trophy Wife
I cringe when others say,
"...but you two had...
the perfect marriage,"
because what they don't understand
is that we had the perfect facade.
We sat side-by-side in church,
then came home and
you would tell the kids,
"Hurry up with that G* D* prayer...
I'm irritable and hungry!"
We went to school conferences
and doctor's appointments,
and you could certainly
talk the perfect parent talk,
but you were inconsistent
with following through.
On anniversaries and birthdays,
you showered me with lavish gifts,
but on an ordinary day
in the privacy of our own home
where the world wasn't watching,
you told me, "the hell with what
you're feeling...it's not reasonable
in the world according to me,
so you're not allowed to
feel or think that!"
You dressed me up like a doll
in clothes that you bought me,
so I'd fit into your mold
of what a wife-of-yours
should be, then asked everyone,
"This is MY wife...
Isn't she beautiful?!"
I wanted you to think
that I was beautiful
on the inside too.
For a while,
I loved being your trophy wife.
You swept me off my feet.
We were in it for the good times,
and the images we portrayed
fooled even me...
but there were feelings inside
being controlled and smothered.
I just had to get out
so I could be free
to be myself again...
because perfect
only exists in fairy tales...
and I'm real.
Lori Beal
"...but you two had...
the perfect marriage,"
because what they don't understand
is that we had the perfect facade.
We sat side-by-side in church,
then came home and
you would tell the kids,
"Hurry up with that G* D* prayer...
I'm irritable and hungry!"
We went to school conferences
and doctor's appointments,
and you could certainly
talk the perfect parent talk,
but you were inconsistent
with following through.
On anniversaries and birthdays,
you showered me with lavish gifts,
but on an ordinary day
in the privacy of our own home
where the world wasn't watching,
you told me, "the hell with what
you're feeling...it's not reasonable
in the world according to me,
so you're not allowed to
feel or think that!"
You dressed me up like a doll
in clothes that you bought me,
so I'd fit into your mold
of what a wife-of-yours
should be, then asked everyone,
"This is MY wife...
Isn't she beautiful?!"
I wanted you to think
that I was beautiful
on the inside too.
For a while,
I loved being your trophy wife.
You swept me off my feet.
We were in it for the good times,
and the images we portrayed
fooled even me...
but there were feelings inside
being controlled and smothered.
I just had to get out
so I could be free
to be myself again...
because perfect
only exists in fairy tales...
and I'm real.
Lori Beal
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Trophy Wife
Trophy Wife