What are Wives if not Whores? - Looking at Marriage and the Prostitution Archetype

Wives as whores; I can’t imagine this is a new concept, but it is one that is not of popular opinion.

To be clear, I’m not referencing prostitution in the context of sex, but instead as the act of “selling” oneself for goods or services, especially viewed from the lens of the prostitute archetype. Also, as work evolves and women bring home bigger paychecks than their partners, this can even speak past traditional gender roles. Although I do acknowledge that bringing children into a marriage tends to reinforce gender bias unless active conscious steps are taken against that. 

And maybe, it’s the fledgling freedom that women have to be financially independent that even allows a wife/whore comparison to be made without repercussion. For most of human history, marriage was out of convenience and had status & property implications. In that way, wives were even more of a commodity to be sold. 

Maybe radical language is required to break the complacency of that thinking to weed out the underlying thinking that still exists in people of all genders today, even if they are not consciously aware of it. 

The Prostitute Archetype

“None of us thinks kindly of the term ‘prostitute,’ and yet from this archetype we learn the great gift of never again having to compromise our body, mind, or spirit. You may have already reached the point in which the Prostitute has become a mature part of yourself that circles you with a strong vibrational field that says, “Not for sale.”

Caroline Myss further talks on the Prostitute archetype as:

“The Prostitute archetype engages lessons in the sale or negotiation of one’s integrity or spirit due to fears of physical survival or for financial gain. It activates the aspects of the unconscious that are related to seduction and control, whereby you are as capable of buying a controlling interest in another person as you are of selling your own power. Prostitution should be understood as the selling or selling out of your talents, ideas, and any other expression of the self. The core learning of the Prostitute relates to the need to birth and refine self-esteem and self-respect.”

This shift in thinking of the word “prostitute” helped me to see some of my own frustrations with marriage in a different light. And with the understanding that my frustrations are not unique. I have heard from women in partnerships across all socio-economic divides, with and without children, and consistently hear these similar themes. I will quantify that these challenges seem to come out after time, in long-term (mostly monogamous) relationships, where conscious partner care & communication isn’t being practiced. I offer this because, maybe, that’s the key to accepting that things can’t change. That all hope isn’t lost. 

For, sometimes, it does feel hopeless. That, as a woman, or as a partner who makes less money, I have less value in a relationship. Now, it feels as though I’ve heard every argument about how there is value in whatever a person brings to a marriage, and, if children are involved, there is so much unpaid work wrapped up in that. And I agree rationally, but unless that belief folds into our collective subconsciousness, it feels empty in practice. 

I was raised on the principle that hard work garners rewards. And traditionally accepted, in our society, those rewards are monetary. So in marriages, does he (or she) who makes the most have the most value? And, in long term partnerships, when things change, as they always do, whose needs are more important? Should it be based on that criteria? Money is what keeps us in shelter and fed, so how could those things not have the most value in decision making? 

When my son was born, I was without an income for the first time in my adult life. I had been on unemployment after transitioning from a “real” job while building my own business. But at his birth, unemployment ended, and I wasn’t able to bring in any additional self-employed income with a newborn. At the same time I became a mother, I also became totally financially dependent on my husband of, at that time, 2 years married - 7 years together. 

“We got this”, I thought. I loved and trusted my partner, and even though we mostly avoided the subject of money, I rationalized that it would work itself out. We went from a system where we could both contribute monetarily to one where he contributed and I cared for our son. Except, traditional work was easy compared to the work of parenting, and the first time he “escaped” into work while I cared for a sick baby in the hospital, a small part of me rebelled. And the first time he used the phrase “spending my money”, a large part of me panicked. For, I felt, despite living every aspect of my life to that point in a different, independant, direction, I was now totally dependent on a person to whom money was the driving factor. 

And how could I contribute, other than agreeing to lifestyle choices, both big and small, that felt they went against my values and morals? I felt I was trading my emotional currency for a roof over my head and financial security. And how is that transaction any different than exchanging sex for money? 

But I didn’t have the language or awareness then. I had responsibilities, and a child, and a nagging insistent belief that if I matched my husband financially, he would step up in the other areas at home. With that drive buzzing in my ears, I got to work. I built a business while my son was an infant and sold it before he started primary school. I then jumped back into working for other people to bring home a steady paycheck. That paycheck grew until I was monetarily equal to my husband. But still our responsibilities at home didn’t change. 

And now, my resentments had progressed to include a lot of yelling. I still felt I was bargaining my soul for money, and I didn’t want to live that way. 

But everyone I knew was doing the same thing. “That’s just how things work”, said my mother and aunts. “Marriage is hard”, said everyone who had been doing it awhile. “But divorce, and raising a child alone is harder”, said the divorced ones. 

So what were my options, and why did it all feel like complaining to talk about it? Another principle from my childhood believed that no good came from complaining. It was for the weak, if you weren’t “happy”, suck it up quietly, was the popular family mantra. 

For me, it took asking the question of what are my values and morals regardless of money? And what was I not willing to sell for anything? This was a scary exercise. At first, it didn’t feel like there was anything I had that I wouldn’t trade for money, security, a stable home. But, time and repetition revealed that my frustration and anger wouldn't just go away, even as the social ladder was climbed and, on the outside, our lives got “better”. And, it was affecting my quality of life, and my child’s life, in ways that felt untenable. 

It turns out, I wasn’t willing to forgo TIME. That time spent together was more important than time spent at work. And, I wasn’t willing to give up FREEDOM. That knowing I had a small space that I could afford on my own was more important than a big space that I was dependent on someone else for. And OBLIGATION did not equal love. That one being the hardest, because obligation had gotten me pretty far. But the depth of that length was so shallow that it felt it scraped away parts of myself that I realized I needed. 

I do believe there are ways to be in a committed partnership without prostituting oneself for the other person’s beliefs or security or obligation. I believe in conscious relationships, where both parties engage in open and honest dialogue about their individual needs and how it applies to the relationship. And in being committed to stay through hard conversations and constant change because of mutual love and respect, not financial commitment. 

I believe it can exist, and now, there is nothing I am willing to trade my soul for.

Photo by Kelly Repreza on Unsplash

Published on June 1, 2020