Hello there. I'm new to posting on these forums, but I've decided it was time to open up about myself and my life in the company of others with open hearts and open minds.
The past year and a half has been a true whirlwind for me and my family. I’m a 47 year old divorced mother of three, and for about a year now, my oldest daughter has been my wife.
You read that correctly. My daughter is my wife.
How did we get here? Well, how does anyone get anywhere? There were catalysts, forces internal and external, and perhaps the intervention of fate, if you believe in that sort of thing.
In March of 2024, I was launching a company, my own start-up, that I’d been building from the ground up for ages. The hard-won success of my career had put me in a position to do such a thing. But as my career soared, my former husband’s sank, and he came to resent it, deeply. He worked as a “consultant” for a while, never consulting on much of anything, and was finally relegated to being the domestic, stay at home parent — a vital role if there ever was one, especially with three kids at home, but one he treated with scorn and could never quite do competently.
His bitterness festered, as did my contempt for his failures and ineffectuality. Finally, on the eve of my start-up’s launch, he left. It was a purposefully timed move borne of feckless anger and cowardice, aimed at throwing our family into chaos.
And it would have done exactly that, had my daughter not stepped up. Most girls would have sulked or acted out under the circumstances of their parents getting divorced. Not my daughter. She rose to the occasion. From the very first night he was gone, she had meals ready to go so we could eat as a family when I was finally done with my 16 hour work day. She helped her siblings adjust to life anew, to life without their father. She took on all the domestic duties that he had never been able to master, and did them effortlessly, all while continuing to get straight A’s in school. She guided her brother and sister through the trauma of the divorce, and helped them understand it, even though she could barely wrap her head around it herself. Where her father had never failed to falter and sink, she rose to the challenge and then some.
Months went by and our family developed new rhythms, new routines, with my daughter as our family’s second in command and resident domestic goddess. My business succeeded, handsomely. At the end of each day, after she had put her brother and sister to bed, she and I would sit, and talk, and unpack our days. By the fall, school was back in session. The time had come for me to have a partner again. A true partner, a partner in full; a spouse.
Call me a traditionalist, but for my family, I do believe in the form and function and stability of a two-spouse household. And I knew that it was what my family needed. But given the circumstances, I had neither the hours nor the interest in wasting my precious time on the cocktail circuit with boring strangers. Nor could I justify spending any more time away from home than I already was, given the hours that were needed to keep my company thriving.
I knew that not just for my sake, but most importantly for my family’s sake, there could only be one answer. And that answer was my daughter. For the sake of our family, she needed to become my wife.
Our conversations on the matter were difficult. Intense. Challenging. But she showed her characteristic maturity and, after a lot of long, tough talks lasting late into many nights, she understood what needed to be. She accepted that she would become her own mother’s wife.
And now, it’s been a year. A tremendous year. I’ve never been happier, and my family has never been on firmer footing. I could not possibly be prouder to call my daughter my wife.
I’m happy to answer questions and respond to comments.
The past year and a half has been a true whirlwind for me and my family. I’m a 47 year old divorced mother of three, and for about a year now, my oldest daughter has been my wife.
You read that correctly. My daughter is my wife.
How did we get here? Well, how does anyone get anywhere? There were catalysts, forces internal and external, and perhaps the intervention of fate, if you believe in that sort of thing.
In March of 2024, I was launching a company, my own start-up, that I’d been building from the ground up for ages. The hard-won success of my career had put me in a position to do such a thing. But as my career soared, my former husband’s sank, and he came to resent it, deeply. He worked as a “consultant” for a while, never consulting on much of anything, and was finally relegated to being the domestic, stay at home parent — a vital role if there ever was one, especially with three kids at home, but one he treated with scorn and could never quite do competently.
His bitterness festered, as did my contempt for his failures and ineffectuality. Finally, on the eve of my start-up’s launch, he left. It was a purposefully timed move borne of feckless anger and cowardice, aimed at throwing our family into chaos.
And it would have done exactly that, had my daughter not stepped up. Most girls would have sulked or acted out under the circumstances of their parents getting divorced. Not my daughter. She rose to the occasion. From the very first night he was gone, she had meals ready to go so we could eat as a family when I was finally done with my 16 hour work day. She helped her siblings adjust to life anew, to life without their father. She took on all the domestic duties that he had never been able to master, and did them effortlessly, all while continuing to get straight A’s in school. She guided her brother and sister through the trauma of the divorce, and helped them understand it, even though she could barely wrap her head around it herself. Where her father had never failed to falter and sink, she rose to the challenge and then some.
Months went by and our family developed new rhythms, new routines, with my daughter as our family’s second in command and resident domestic goddess. My business succeeded, handsomely. At the end of each day, after she had put her brother and sister to bed, she and I would sit, and talk, and unpack our days. By the fall, school was back in session. The time had come for me to have a partner again. A true partner, a partner in full; a spouse.
Call me a traditionalist, but for my family, I do believe in the form and function and stability of a two-spouse household. And I knew that it was what my family needed. But given the circumstances, I had neither the hours nor the interest in wasting my precious time on the cocktail circuit with boring strangers. Nor could I justify spending any more time away from home than I already was, given the hours that were needed to keep my company thriving.
I knew that not just for my sake, but most importantly for my family’s sake, there could only be one answer. And that answer was my daughter. For the sake of our family, she needed to become my wife.
Our conversations on the matter were difficult. Intense. Challenging. But she showed her characteristic maturity and, after a lot of long, tough talks lasting late into many nights, she understood what needed to be. She accepted that she would become her own mother’s wife.
And now, it’s been a year. A tremendous year. I’ve never been happier, and my family has never been on firmer footing. I could not possibly be prouder to call my daughter my wife.
I’m happy to answer questions and respond to comments.
️ 
