The other love of my life isn’t a dark secret I’ve kept from my husband. This love is, in fact, a brightly-lit street free for all. For every word censored by the husband, I take a step down the street. Sometimes there are a hundred steps, sometimes more. In the street, I walk on hysterically—I feel like a woman. But when I get home, I cook and agree and shut up—just the way my husband likes it. I am a wife, The Great Pretender. I am The Woman, a f*cked protester.
Advertisement
