The Tradwife Pitch Works Best on Exhausted Women

It was the best day ever, but it cost a lot to get there. This summer I also had four jobs, flew to multiple academic conferences, set up a new apartment (almost entirely by myself), and planned a wedding. My fiancé, who was similarly busy this summer, tried to contribute as much as he could, but I nevertheless got a taste of being the primary breadwinner… and the primary homemaker. Plus, as a bride, I became a wedding planner, too. Which is how I ended up watching a 30-second reel about “ letting your husband lead ” and feeling something I had never anticipated. Relief. A brief, physical, shoulders-dropping relief at the idea that someone else could grab the wheel. I’d never felt this before. All summer, as my stress mounted, I bulldozed through it with all the feminist passion I could summon. The reel presented a wholly different option, and it caught me off guard. I’m not the only one experiencing this sensation. While increasing numbers of young men believe that wives should always obey their husbands —31% of Gen Z men versus 13% of their Boomer forefathers—increasing numbers of young women also believe the same (18% of Gen Z women compared to 6% of Boomer women). These statistics might seem somewhat shocking to those who take women’s autonomy for granted today. I always have. Two-thirds of mothers have considered leaving the workforce in a single year over the stress and cost of childcare. But I’ve come to understand the allure a little better. I spent the past few months collecting the origin stories of women who chose tradwifing—the term for a wife who fulfills traditional gender roles. Most of them come from networks of private Facebook groups, insular communities that have learned to be wary of journalists, having been examined by so many before. These stories fall into three broad categories, and together, they capture why the tradwife lifestyle has become so alluring to some women of my generation. The most commonly reported story begins with finances. Here, economic stress and the climbing cost of childcare push a non-breadwinning wife into full-time homemaking, because her paycheck won’t sufficiently clear the monthly quota. Motherly’s 2024 State of Motherhood survey found that two-thirds of mothers have considered leaving the workforce in a single year over the stress and cost of childcare. Among Gen Z mothers, it was 82%. “My job would only give me six weeks leave,” shared Shelby C., a self-proclaimed conservative tradwife I spoke with on Facebook. “The idea of sending a six-week-old to daycare was insane to us, especially considering I wasn’t making significantly more than the cost.” Other women choose tradwifing for ideological reasons—because they distrust government and “society,” or opt for homeschooling because they believe the schools will brainwash their children, and would rather obey their husband than an employer they believe may be impersonal and even cruel. Even childless women felt the draw. “We didn’t want any kind of politics pushed on our kids,” said Katie M., a wife and mom of four. “We didn’t want [them] to be pawns.” Yet the third explanation that I often saw was more intuitive: gravitation toward the “ soft life ” of female submission. Even childless women felt the draw. Women in the Facebook groups told me they’ve “always known” they wanted to be a tradwife. It’s the most “rewarding” and “fulfilling” thing they’ve ever done. One woman started playing with tradwife toys at age two and “never wanted to do anything else.” “I feel safer and happier when my husband is in charge and in control… He’s just so strong and masculine, and I feel flowery and feminine. It just takes so much stress off my shoulders and lets me do what my husband calls ‘fluffing around,’” said Lisa M., a tradwife from Virginia. At this juncture, feminist critics—including, previously, myself—may be tempted to criticize such accounts as false consciousnesses, artificially developed by ideologues and economic conditions. I still think that politics pushing women home is suspect. When men enthusiastically exhort women to give up their jobs, it makes me squint. But my interviews have made me more sympathetic. These tradwives were not confused about their choices. Many were clear-eyed and had experience as working wives and moms as well as tradwives. Personally, I still want a career. But I’ve become more aware of the cost. I’ve read research articles describing the “ mental load ,” or the burden of planning, which usually falls upon wives and mothers; Instagram posts tallying up how much it would cost to pay a housewife if you broke her duties down into hourly wages ; and posts castigating husbands and fathers, who, after marriage, usually gain a few hours of leisure time , while their wives normally lose some. Such posts rang true to my experiences this summer, offering explanations for my burnout. They were reassuring in that regard. But they’re thoroughly disheartening in that the comment sections are frequently full of men arguing that women shouldn’t even be tired, men work hard too, modern feminism has spoiled women , and so on. The throughline is that women’s exhaustion is exaggerated. It’s not easy being a girl, much less one who wants to pursue all her opportunities. As much as it pains me to admit these men sometimes have a point, tradwifing looks almost staggeringly simple in comparison. Or at least it offers a different kind of stress, a kind to which I may be better attuned—whether naturally or otherwise—than my husband. In other words: if you can’t beat them, join them. A part of me registers the idea of submission as an insult. Another part is sorely tempted. Submission is therefore tantalizing. The husband’s judgment may not be better, but at least it’s final, and men on the internet may be less likely to criticize you. Maybe. A part of me registers the idea of submission as an insult. Another part is sorely tempted. My months of tradwife reporting have opened my eyes to an uncomfortable question. If women can genuinely set down their ambition in exchange for peace, then are achievements and individuality even worth pursuing? Sometimes I whole-heartedly say yes. Sitting here right now, well-rested in the broad daylight, with a loving husband nearby, I want to work and climb. But when I stayed up late this summer, clocking hours and making wedding decor alone well into the early hours of the morning, I struggled to remember why I ever chose this path. Scrolling Instagram before going to bed, I see a reel of a woman in a beautiful dress, perfect hair, cooking dinner for her husband. She preaches that I don’t have to build a career or go to work; let my man provide for me, and won’t life be grand?