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The night my husband came home from another flight smelling of another woman's perfume, one question was taking over social media.
"Where have all the homemaker over forty-seven gone?
"If life as a homemaker is so wonderful, why doesn't anyone ever speak up about it?"
My husband, an international airline captain with over a million followers, signed us up for a livestream. He wanted me to prove that homemaker hadn't vanished. According to him, they were simply loved, protected, and cherished by their husbands.
He was certain I'd play along.
After all, for 22 years, I'd been the perfect wife. Even when my swollen joints hurt so much I could barely hold a spatula, I still washed his uniforms and made sure dinner was waiting when he got home.
Even when he walked through the door carrying another woman's perfume, I would only touch my wedding ring and tell myself the same lie.
"He's just having a little fun. In the end, he'll always come back to me."
On the day of the livestream, he smiled at the camera and told everyone how happy our marriage was.
I was in the kitchen baking, carrying dish after dish to the table.
Then the host asked me one simple question.
"Would you want your daughter to grow up to be the homemaker as you?"
My husband smiled and typed his answer onto the teleprompter for me to read. "Of course."
I walked into the frame with the last dish in my hands.
I looked straight into the camera. "No," I said. "I wouldn't."