Disclaimer: This is based on a true story. Certain names and details have been changed.
This page is a synopsis of a book I’m writing. I’ll be posting chapters as they are written. Please be patient. I’ve never written a full length book before. As needed, I may delete, revise or change the order of these chapters.
I run my marriage like a business. In the morning I climb into my avatar and I am attractive, capable, kind, cheerful. But in the darkness of the night I strip off my avatar and I am lonely, unfulfilled, angry, afraid.
Most people see me as an exuberant adoring wife, loving mother, faithful church member, successful realtor, and, yet, I live in terror every moment of my life. Fear begins at sunrise as I prepare breakfast for my husband. Aaron’s control hovers over me as I carefully select the correct skillet for the task at hand‒the simple act of frying an egg. I set the burner to medium, remembering to turn it down at just the right time to prevent the whites from scorching. I choose the Pelton spatula to keep from scratching his Emeril Lagosse frying pan. I heat an oval-shaped porcelain plate in the microwave so his egg can be served warm, restaurant-style. I know not to use round plates for breakfast‒those are for dinner. The reason oval plates are preferable for breakfast is still a mystery to me. I don’t ask Aaron why. I’ve learned not to ask questions.
Aaron is a hoarder and, up until a television reality show clued me in, I didn’t know this. On, November 9, 2010, I began a humorous experiment: covertly tossing old magazines and sneaking beloved kitchen gadgets, even though they chop, slice and dice, onto eBay. When he leaves for work, I peek inside crammed drawers, behind closed doors, in the shed, within storage units. As I remove trinkets and treasures from within the bowels of our home, a feeling of terror, mingled with glee, haunts and excites me. I’m naughty to have such feelings. I’m naughty because I’m documenting my findings. I’m naughty because I’m crossing well-established boundaries, cautiously putting Aaron’s unwritten rules to the test, tweaking them without permission.
What began as a silly idea turns dark and ominous as disturbing truths are unearthed. Without lifting his hand against me, my husband is abusing me. But who will believe me? Who will hear my cry for help?
Naughty Wife Experiment is a memoir, a journey to awareness and eventually freedom.