The Wife Test: How a Bizarre Family Tradition Made Me Walk Away
When my fiancé, Eric, dropped to one knee in the snow-covered cabin we loved, I thought I was saying yes to forever with the man of my dreams. I had no idea I was also signing up for a humiliating, outdated family tradition that would make me question everything—love, loyalty, and whether I even wanted to be part of his family.
The Perfect Engagement… Or So I Thought
Eric and I had been together for three amazing years. At 30, I felt like I’d finally found my person. We laughed at the same dumb TV shows, had matching coffee mugs (“Boss” and “Also Boss”), and spent lazy Sundays picnicking in the park. When he proposed, I didn’t even let him finish his speech before blurting out “YES!”
But then came the engagement dinner.
The Night Everything Changed
I wanted everything to be perfect. Eric’s family—his parents, three brothers, and their wives—were coming over to celebrate. Since my family lived overseas and couldn’t make it, I was extra nervous. I needed them to like me.
I took two days off work to prepare. I cooked a full roast chicken, scrubbed the apartment until it sparkled, and even printed fancy menus (“Eric & Sarah, Engaged!”). I refused Eric’s help—I wanted to prove I could handle this.
At first, the night was perfect. Everyone complimented my cooking, laughed at my jokes, and even Eric’s sister-in-law, Holly, gave me an approving nod when I poured wine without spilling a drop. Eric squeezed my hand under the table, and I thought, This is it. I’m finally part of the family.
Then his mother, Martha, stood up.
She clinked her glass with a butter knife, and the room fell silent.
“I’ll allow you to marry my son,” she announced, “only if you pass the family wife test.”
I laughed. This had to be a joke.
But no one else was laughing.
The Shocking “Wife Test”
Martha pulled out a folded piece of paper like it was some ancient family decree.
“It’s tradition,” she said proudly. “Every woman marrying into this family must prove she’s a capable homemaker.”
Then she read the list:
- Cook a three-course meal from scratch (no recipes allowed).
- Deep-clean an entire house, including baseboards and blinds.
- Iron shirts and fold laundry to their “standards.”
- Host a tea party for the family matriarchs (AKA her).
- Do it all with a smile.
I stared at her, stunned. Was this for real?
“You’re serious?” I asked.
“Of course,” Martha said, smiling sweetly. “All the wives did it. Holly, Jessica, even my own daughter-in-law, Claire. It’s how we know you’re ready.”
I looked at Eric, expecting him to laugh it off. Instead, he just shrugged. “It’s just a tradition, babe. They won’t actually say no if you mess up.”
Then he pulled out a dust cloth from his pocket and handed it to me.
The Moment I Walked Away
That was it. That was the moment I realized: I wasn’t just marrying Eric. I was marrying a family stuck in the 1950s, and my fiancé didn’t have the guts to stand up to them.
I stood up, smoothed my dress, and said, “Thank you all for coming. Dinner is over.”
Martha’s face turned red. One of Eric’s brothers let out a nervous chuckle. His dad? He just kept eating, completely unfazed.
Eric followed me into the kitchen, furious. “What the hell are you doing? You’re embarrassing me!”
“No,” I snapped. “You embarrassed me. You let your family treat me like I’m auditioning for a role instead of marrying the man I love.”
“It’s just their way of showing love!” he argued.
“Well, it’s not mine,” I said. “And I won’t scrub floors to prove I’m ‘worthy’ of you.”
The Aftermath
That night, I locked myself in the guest room. The next morning, I packed a bag and left.
Eric blew up my phone with apologies. His last text? “I just wanted us all to get along.”
But that wasn’t the point. The point was, he didn’t stand up for me when it mattered.
Two days later, Martha called. “Can we talk? Woman to woman?”
Against my better judgment, I listened.
“The test was just a symbol of commitment,” she said. “I needed to know how serious you are about Eric.”
“If you wanted to test me,” I shot back, “you should’ve started with basic respect. Not a checklist of chores.”
She sighed. “It’s tradition.”
“Well,” I said coldly, “traditions evolve. Or they die.”
Where We Stand Now
The wedding is on pause. I’m staying with my best friend, Monica, who keeps telling me, “You could always talk to him again.”
And I might. But here’s the truth: Love shouldn’t come with conditions. If Eric can’t break free from his family’s backward traditions, then I won’t marry into them.
I still love him. But I love myself more. And I refuse to spend my life proving my worth with a mop and a smile.
So, Eric has a choice: Stand up to his family, or lose me forever.
And if he can’t?
Then I’ll walk away—clean floors and all.
Meanwhile…
Sarah isn’t the only one who faced shocking family traditions. Hannah’s fiancé hid a disturbing secret until their wedding day. When she stepped into the church, what she saw made her run.