Domestic Wasteland

In her essay Crossing the Line in the Sand, Elissa Schappell defines quite well, the place where every mother we have read about thus far seems to be rotting away— Domestic Wasteland. “But still, here I am in the domestic wasteland turning more and more shrewish by the moment.” Seemingly, women are unavoidably made into bitches as a result of everything that ensues after a child is born. Women exchange their hopes and dreams (and romance) for dirty diapers, oven mitts, fights about money, a husband they never see and start to resent, etc. On top of all of this, the Domestic Wasteland has a snowball effect on all who dwell within it’s boundaries. Day after day, the once optimistic woman (now a bitch) is the personal secretary to kids (who throw books at her head) and the stress piles up and her bitchiness grows. Soon the bitch is on a roll—gaining volume and speed with every second of everyday, until she crashes, exploding in the faces of her children and husband, crossing the line in the sand. And of course, the bitch of the Domestic Wasteland looks like the bad guy, feeling guilty for what she can’t escape. For those other than the bitch living in Domestic Wasteland, life seems easy. My momhas lived in Domestic Wasteland, and my dad doesn’t get it. I’ll have to admit, for a while I didn’t get it either, but after reading for this class, and doing a little maturing (and I have come to accept that maturing is something I will never see my father do), I see how frustrating it must be for my mother (who is stuck married to my father, stuck taking care of three kids)stuck in Domestic Wasteland), and I take a deep breath, and I understand if my mom has a bitch fit. I don’t think it’s fair that women (mothers/wives) are sentenced to this life in this Domestic Wasteland—permitted to leave, only after it is too late, or maybe, if a bitch is particularly full of nerve, after getting a divorce. Personally, I don’t want to be a slave to Domestic Wasteland, and it scares me to think that if I do acquiesce to society’s standards—get married and have kids, that I will be forever trapped and labeled as a bitch from this dark and scary Domestic Wasteland.