All Hail the Trophy Wife
I’m watching my stepdaughter scrimmage on the soccer field when a mom standing beside me asks, “Which one is yours?”
“Number 28,” I say, smiling proudly.
She takes a step back and gives me the once-over. “Oh. You’re the stepmom.”
“Uh. Yeah,” I say.
“And this one,” she says, pointing at my two-year-old, playing in the dirt at my feet, “She’s yours?”
“Yes, she is.”
“And I hear you’re expecting another one.” Wow. News travels fast among the soccer moms.
“Yep.”
“So.” Her eyes narrow. “This one and the one you’re pregnant with, do they both have the same daddy?”
Let’s hit pause for a moment. The retelling of this scene has played and replayed among my friends like a lost Elliott Smith track, and I’ve gotten plenty of good advice on what I should have said. Like:
“Well, I think so, but of course we won’t know for sure until the paternity test results are in.”
or:
“Actually, this one is Johnny Depp’s. But I’m trying to keep it under wraps because of the damned paparazzi.”
Or just a straightforward:
“Why’re you all up in my grill, Mommy? You don’t know me!”
Instead, I stared uncomprehendingly for a few seconds, then said, “Eeeeeeyyyyes!” before turning away, red-faced.
Welcome to the Second Wives Club.
Although the club has neither membership fees nor monthly meetings, members are encouraged to learn the rules to the How-Many-Ways-Can-I-Say-Bimbo-Without-Using-the-Word Game, since it will be played against them on a regular basis. And with a constant rotation of First Wives Club competitors, a second wife must always be on her guard. Babydaddy Mom’s insults, for example, are totally different from those of Loudtalking Mom, who likes to pretend that I’m not only dumb as a rock, but also hard of hearing.
“I HEAR you’re taking SIX RIDERS on the FIELD TRIP next week!” Loudtalking Mom spoke extra-slowly to me as we waited for play practice to end. “You will NEED YOUR SUV! So that you can FIT SIX RIDERS! Not YOUR HUSBAND’S CAR! Which SEATS FOUR!”
“Uh-duh,” I said crankily, once my ears stopped ringing.
She frowned. “I was TRYING to HELP,” she blustered. “I KNOW you’re NEW AT THIS!”
“Yeah, I’ve only been chaperoning field trips for five years,” I muttered after she’d turned and walked away.
To their credit, the nice moms totally outnumber the mean ones. Still, I run into a Second Wife Hater just often enough to remind me that some women will always be convinced I’m the Hester Prynne of West Nashville. I may not have committed adultery but in these parts, marrying a divorced man is almost as good. Er, bad.
For years, I’ve tried to ignore the put-downs. But when I walked out of a parent meeting recently and heard one of the moms inside loudly snort, “What is she, twelve?”, I finally decided something had to give. If these women couldn’t muster the wherewithal to say it to my face, I would do it for them.
Grimly, I ordered my own version of the scarlet letter: a t-shirt emblazoned with the words Trophy Wife. When it arrived in the mail on the same day as a scheduled booster club meeting at my stepdaughter’s high school, I put it on and headed out, a stepmom on a mission.
“Well! I thought I’d seen it all!” An older woman looked up from my shirt and shook her head angrily at me as I walked down the hall toward the meeting room.
“Puritan!” I murmured piously as she huffed past.
Once inside the meeting, several of the parents read my shirt and quickly looked away. After a few minutes of business, there was a commotion in the rear of the room.
“Three cheers for the trophy wife!” Anne Peterson stood up from her desk and pointed at me. What was this? Anne Peterson (a.k.a., Something-Smells-and-it-Must-Be-That-Second-Wife Mom), hated my guts.
“Hip, hip hooray!” Grace McKay stood up beside Anne and threw her hands in the air. Before I knew what was happening, all of the moms had gathered around me and lifted me into the air. “Tro-phy Wife, Tro-phy Wife, all hail the Tro-phy Wife,” they chanted, marching around the classroom while their husbands clapped to keep time.
“…Lindsay?” I looked up from where my eyes had fixated on the words, Trippin, carved into my desk.
“You are still willing to help with Senior Night, aren’t you?” Jeannie Taylor tapped her clipboard impatiently.
“Uh yes,” I said quickly. “Of course.”
Beside her, Anne Peterson grinned at me. I like your shirt, she mouthed, pulling on her own shirt and nodding.
I sat up straight and smiled back.
Hey. If I couldn’t get a parade, a grin would certainly do. I did a quick tally in my head. One Mean Mom down, 200-something to go.
Clearly, I’ll have to wear the t-shirt more often.
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>Never have commented on anything online before, but just to round out the viewpoint here…I am six years older than my husband and nine years older than his ex-wife, with a 27-year old and sixteen-old of my own, and (adoring and lucky) stepmom to his two, six and three and a half. I look pretty good–but nine years is nine years. You don’t even want to know the soccer comments from her “team.” Let’s just say it requires a strong spiritual life, a great sex life with an amazing man, and best of all, I always just smile inwardly and remember Anne Lamott’s words when she was surrounded by young hard bodies and excruciatingly aware of her aging thighs: “tick tock.” One day you will be on Baby’s sidelines, and hopefully be the first to greet warmly and kindly the next generation of Trophy Wife.
>Good grief! You’d think these women would have better things to do than act like prissy little twits. You need a prepubescent cheerleader more than most I think. (They are far more vicuous than soccer moms!)
>That was a classic post. I am a 2nd wife too. ALL HAIL!!!!!!Why don’t they allow comments at NS anymore? Are you like, too much for thier wittle brains? Heee….
>I tell ya, I’ve been noticing a lot : women are catty biotches! I was working in a lady’s house not long ago and she had a friend over. They were talking about the new blonde wife of so-and-so and how much they hated her. I actually think they said, “what is she, 12?”Seriously. Yikes.I LOOOOVE your reaction to the issue. LOVE it! You go super Lucinda!
>They’re all jealous, except that one of course.
>So glad I was able to help. And yay for you! I’m proud of you.Now go order the BOTOX-FREE shirt and wear that to the NEXT meeting.
>Honey – don’t those broads have better things to do? What is it to them how many times you or your hubby have been married? Jeeze Louise – next time go full-bore Harper Valley. Show ’em why hubby’s happy at home. I hear hot pants are coming back in vogue – so shimmy into some purple velvet ones, strap on a pair of kinky Frederick of Hollywood stilettos and, as the inimitable Aileen Mehle is wont to say: Kick them in the pants with a diamond buckled shoe!
>LMFAO- i love you. trophy whore. even if you did buy a dyson to make me cry.
>I could understand that reaction from women who knew the x well, but to hae on a gal just because she’s a second wife if nasty. Women who do that are worse than useless.
>for some reason i didn’t think trophy wives had kids, and if they did, they got a surrogate.
>Karen, commenting has never happened on the Nashville Scene website. Probably for the best. 😉 I bet you’re thinking of the Nashville Scene blog, where I made the library patrons reallllllly angry.Oh and the worst part of all this is that practically NONE of these women know the ex. They’re just assuming the worst, apparently.
>Loved the article. I was thisclose to becoming a step mom. The relationship didn’t work out, but I sometimes wonder what my life would be like if it had. BTW, my parents live in Nashville — I’ll have to be sure my mom keeps an eye out for your articles. She’ll get a kick out of them.
>You could get another shirt for when you start to show more with “Future Trophy Wife” on your belly bump.
>Hysterical! You show ’em girl!!
>I read your blog all the time, I just don’t usually comment. But I wanted to stop by and say thanks for giving me something to smile about. That’s not easy these days.
>Oh that is funny– glad you did it
>Priceless.You’ll have to ask the other soccer moms whether all their children have the same daddies too. Ick!
>That makes me so mad. I want to go and hurt the women who act like that. And next time, tell them, “No, I’m 15 and I wear my big girl panties while I’m ‘stealing your husband.'”Sheesh. Some of those gals need a life.
>Honestly, have they no sense of humor?Loving these comments too!
>Hey, getting a smile and positive comment from someone you thought disliked you seems like a victory to me! 🙂
>I’ll have to get one of those shirts for my Ex’s finacee. She is 12. Er, I mean, 21.
>Hi everyone,This is from Elise and Eileen of PlanetMomTShirts.com and the creators of the aforementioned “Trophy Wife” tee. We love the Nashville Scene story and all the comments that have been posted. As a way to thank you for the great publicity, we’d like to offer you guys 20% off our apparel (good through 9/15). Just type in “SuburbanTurmoil” at checkout for the discount. Thanks, again!Elise & Eileen http://www.PlanetMomTShirts.com
>Being the second wife is definitely NOT easy!!! Especially when there are older kids involved! And when their mom is a total BIT-….nevermind!!It just totally sucks!
>Being the second wife is definitely NOT easy!!! Especially when there are older kids involved! And when their mom is a total BIT-….nevermind!!It just totally sucks!
>Very funny article – glad you got the shirt.
>You rocked them, L. I’ve hated them ever since I first read about them on your blog, and met them on our local soccer field here at home.Every time you can knock them down a peg, a giant cheer rings out in the blogosphere.
>Hot damn, girl! You got us a sale!!Great post, L.
>Some of the best moms I know have been step-moms. They take the job knowing what the requirements are.My wife is my first wife and we’ve been married 20 years. Can she wear a trophy wife shirt?
>That’s awesome! I love that you actually wore it. I like to think that even though I’m my husband’s first wife, and he’s my second husband, that I could still wear the shirt too 🙂 You just have to look young and HOTT, right? AHAHAHAHAHA!
>I wouldn’t mind wearing that shirt myself.Great article. Thanks for making me laugh.
>I love those shirts, thanks!
>I am so proud to know you, Miss Trophy Wife! 🙂 I’m the 3rd wife, of a husband 17 years older than me…his kids are 8 and 10 years younger than me, and have kids of their own. So I even get to be a step-GRANDmother. Ahahahahahahahaha!!! Do they have Trophy Grandmother shirts? 😉
>Funny story! But I can’t believe all of the BS you have to put up with. So lame. Are they just projecting their own fears onto you? I’m sorry those women are in your life — you’re a brave woman for going about your business and not letting it get you down. Like Mrs. Kennedy says, “Writing Well is the Best Revenge!”
>I wanna Trophy wife t-shirt!Should’ve bought it when my husband was 42 and I was 22 and looked 16. 😛 Now that would’ve created conversation.I’m also a second wife! Except..the stepdaughter is only 4 years younger then me. lolol!
>No, I believe you, Lindsay, about most of these women not knowing the ex. I don’t think their hostility is about her, and I don’t think it’s even really about you, except for the fact of your (stunning) appearance.Honestly? I can totally see why women, especially women who’ve been married for 20 years or so, might be threatened by you. They’re looking at you, and your young hotness, and wondering, “could MY marriage withstand a temptation like THAT?” (because I’m sure that, in all their mind, you MUST have “enticed” your husband away from wife the first, right?)Really–I think you represent, to the less secure of the other wives, the “it could happen to me” threat. And that’s what they are–THREATENED. Wondering just how strong their marriages are.As my mom would say, “Kill ’em with kindness.” You will be the Impervious To Assault Wonder-Wife. “Geez, not only is she young, and gorgeous, and smart, and energetic…she’s so danged NICE!”But that “do they have the same DADDY” comment? WOW. I always want to think you’re making these stories up, because people could not, just NOT, be that mean. Not in DIRECT CONTACT. Say it ain’t so. No, I know it is.It’s just so…so…anti-Southern.
>I LOVE the fact that you wore that shirt, and even got a grin. Hilarious!
>Very cool! I just ordered Botox Free (with discount) for my sister’s 40th birthday present! Perfect.
>What happened to you? You’ve disappeared? I miss you!