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By A. M. Sterling
She needs to close the pantry door, lean against the cold tile, close her eyes, and go to the chateau. Just for three minutes. Just until the timer on the dryer goes off.
We are familiar with her cousins: the Doom Scroller, the Wine Mom, the Day Drinker. But the Escapist is more subtle, more cunning, and far more literary. She does not escape from her life out of despair; she escapes into other lives out of necessity. The laundry is done. The pediatrician appointments are booked. The in-laws have been thanked for the birthday card. On paper, she has won. And yet, the victory feels suspiciously like a cage.
She is a Housewife Escapist.
By A. M. Sterling
She needs to close the pantry door, lean against the cold tile, close her eyes, and go to the chateau. Just for three minutes. Just until the timer on the dryer goes off.
We are familiar with her cousins: the Doom Scroller, the Wine Mom, the Day Drinker. But the Escapist is more subtle, more cunning, and far more literary. She does not escape from her life out of despair; she escapes into other lives out of necessity. The laundry is done. The pediatrician appointments are booked. The in-laws have been thanked for the birthday card. On paper, she has won. And yet, the victory feels suspiciously like a cage.
She is a Housewife Escapist.