The worst thing that has happened to me throughout the last year is becoming perversely fascinated by the tradwife phenomenon. If you have somehow made it to the Year of Our Lord 2025 without having been forced to learn exactly what a “tradwife” is, please stop reading now. God has mercifully spared you from this particular form of suffering and far be it for me to inflict it upon you. I envy all the past versions of myself who remained blissfully ignorant of this trend, which I truly hate so much but also cannot manage to simply ignore. “I do not understand my own actions. For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate,” St. Paul writes in Romans—that’s me with tradwife influencers.
I have gone so far as to create a burner account on Instagram with which to stalk my (least) favorite tradwife accounts and scratch the inexplicable itch to consume this bizarre, regressive content without corrupting my main account’s algorithm. My normal Instagram discover page is full of, l…