I saw my husband today for the first time. The wedding is tomorrow.
He’s thirty years old.
I know that I’m not supposed to care—I know that this is for the good of my family. I know that marrying such a rich man will help my family earn more money and prestige. I know that this will create a brighter future for my brother.
I just don’t know why my brother’s future matters more than mine.
My mother has explained countless times that men are simply better than women, and therefore worth more. She’s reminded me every day of my life to only go outside when necessary and with a man. I once heard my father reading a quote from a poet; I forget his name, maybe something with an M? It doesn’t matter. The quote was about teaching women to read. It went: “Teach a woman letters? A serious mistake!” He then compared women to terrifying snakes; the letters, extra venom. Don’t we live in Athens? Our patron god is Athena, goddess of wisdom. He worships a woman who is supposed to be the wisest and thinks that women belong inside, away from anyone intelligent.
I don’t know. My mother tells me I should stop questioning men.
Anyway. My husband. He’s tall—almost two feet taller than me. Granted, I’m short, but it was weird to see this overly tall, thirty year old man walk into my house and chat with my father about my future. It was weird to see him greet my ten year old brother, talk with my father, and barely glance at me. I hid myself as far behind my mother as I could as the two of us continued with our sewing.
“Smile,” my mother whispered. “You look prettier when you smile.” I put on my most relaxed smile.
My brother told me to get him a snack. I almost told him no, no I can’t do that right now because doesn’t he realize we’re talking with my future?
“Get me a snack,” he demanded again. My mother threw me a warning look. She didn’t want my husband to back out because his future wife isn’t obedient.
I left for the pantry as gracefully as I could.
My husband didn’t so much as glance.
The rest of the day was uneventful. My husband left after an hour of negotiating with my father. He said goodbye to my brother. He didn’t say goodbye to me. By then, I didn’t expect him to.
My mother and I cooked dinner. In the kitchen, she told me I was lucky because my new husband is rich and the oldest son in his family. I’m lucky because I’ll have slaves to do the housework for me, so no more cooking and cleaning for me. She told me that I’ll probably see her once or twice a year, but I should be grateful. I’m lucky because at least I’ll get to see her sometimes.
I’m lucky.
I cleaned the living room after dinner because my father has guests coming tomorrow to celebrate his newfound freedom, now that he doesn’t have to worry about a daughter to take care of, but they probably won’t be inside for more than a few minutes. My father likes to spend almost all of his time outside and with society.
My father then went out for a few hours with my brother. They were going to a sporting event, or something. They don’t like to tell my mother and me much about their life outside. After they were gone, we sewed some more. When I got bored of that, my mother told me to go to bed. Trying my best to be obedient to everyone, I did.
Do you think my husband will like me? Do you think I’ll like him? Do you think that even matters? I don’t know. I just don’t know.
Yours, An Athenian Girl