A week after our honeymoon, I was still on cloud nine, unpacking boxes in our new home when Derek surprised me with a gift: a frilly apron and a long black dress, which he called a “house uniform.” He explained that it was a tradition from his family, but I was taken aback. I had worked hard to build my career and had no intention of becoming a traditional housewife.
Determined to make a point, I decided to play along and donned the uniform, performing my duties with exaggerated enthusiasm. I even started calling Derek “sir,” which made him increasingly uncomfortable. When his coworkers came over for dinner, I greeted them in full uniform, making it clear that I was fulfilling the role he had suggested.