I’m a full-time mom. About a year ago, I left my job to take care of our three-year-old daughter, who is autistic and requires a lot of support. Lately, I’ve noticed that my usually feminist husband has been criticizing me in a group chat.
Transitioning into the role of a stay-at-home mom (SAHM) wasn’t something I had envisioned for myself. I used to thrive in the fast-paced world of marketing, surrounded by campaigns and fueled by brainstorming sessions over coffee. But all that changed a little over a year ago when my husband, Jake, and I made a significant decision. Our daughter, Lily, who is three and autistic, needed more attention than what her daycare could provide. Her needs are complex, requiring constant care and support, and it became clear that one of us had to be with her full-time.
I won’t sugarcoat it — leaving my career behind was one of the toughest decisions I’ve ever made. I miss the freedom of earning my own income and the satisfaction of a job well done. But here I am now, spending my days planning meals, cooking, and baking. I’ve found joy in these tasks, and experimenting in the kitchen has become my new creative outlet.
Our backyard has turned into a small garden oasis under my care, and I take care of most of the household chores. Jake does his fair share too; he’s actively involved in chores and parenting whenever he’s at home. We’ve always considered ourselves equals, rejecting traditional gender roles, or so I thought until last week.
It was a regular Thursday, and I was tidying up Jake’s home office while he was at work. It’s filled with tech gadgets and piles of paperwork, typical for someone in software development. His computer screen caught my eye — it was still on, casting a soft glow in the dim room. He usually left it on by accident, but what I saw next wasn’t accidental at all.
His Twitter feed was open, and I froze when I saw the hashtag #tradwife attached to a tweet. Confusion washed over me as I read the post. It glorified the joys of having a traditional wife who embraces her domestic duties. Attached was a photo of me, taking a batch of cookies out of the oven, looking every bit like a 1950s housewife. My stomach churned as I scrolled through more posts. There I was again, tending to the garden and reading to Lily, our faces thankfully obscured.
This was Jake’s account, and he had been crafting a whole narrative about our life that was far from reality. He portrayed me as a woman who relished her role as a homemaker, willingly sacrificing her career for aprons and storybooks. The truth of our situation — that this arrangement was a necessity for our daughter’s well-being — was nowhere to be seen.
I felt betrayed. Here was the man I’d loved and trusted for over a decade, sharing our life with strangers under a false pretense that felt foreign to me. It wasn’t just the lies about our relationship dynamics that hurt — it was also the realization that he was using these glimpses of our life to bolster some online persona.
I shut the computer down, my hands trembling with a mix of anger and bewilderment. All day, I grappled with my emotions, trying to comprehend why Jake would do this. Was he dissatisfied with our situation? Did he resent my decision to stay home? Or was it something deeper, a shift in how he perceived me now that I wasn’t contributing financially?
The rest of the day passed in a blur. His posts kept replaying in my mind, and eventually, I couldn’t ignore them any longer. I decided to call him and address everything head-on.
“Jake, we need to talk,” I finally said, trying to keep my voice steady.
He answered, sounding concerned. “What’s wrong?”
I took a deep breath, the weight of my discovery weighing heavily on me. “I saw your Twitter today…”
His expression fell, and he let out a long sigh, indicating he knew exactly what this conversation was about to entail. He started to respond, but I interrupted him.
“Calm down,” he said, dismissing it as “just harmless posting.” That was the final straw. I told him I wanted a divorce, called him out for his deceit, and ended the call.
Jake rushed home immediately. We argued, but with Lily’s strict schedule, I couldn’t let the conflict drag on. He pleaded with me to have a proper conversation after putting Lily to bed. Reluctantly, I agreed. That night, he showed me his phone, revealing that he had deleted the Twitter account. But the damage was already done.
A week passed, and my anger hadn’t subsided. This wasn’t a simple misunderstanding. It was a breach of trust. Jake attempted to explain, claiming it started as a joke, but he got carried away with the attention it garnered. But excuses weren’t enough.
Motivated by a mix of hurt and the need for justice, I decided to expose him. I took screenshots of his tweets and shared them on my Facebook page. I wanted our friends and family to know the truth. My post was straightforward: “Your husband belittles you in front of his friends behind your back. Sound familiar?”
The response was immediate. Our relatives were shocked, and the comments poured in. Jake was inundated with messages and calls. He left work early once more to beg for my forgiveness. He knelt, tears in his eyes, pleading that it was all just a “silly game.”
But I couldn’t let it go. The trust that bound us together was broken. It wasn’t just about a few misguided posts; it was about the respect and understanding we were supposed to have for each other. I told him I needed time and space to think and heal. I moved out with Lily to another apartment.
For six months, Jake begged for forgiveness. He sent messages, left voicemails, and made small gestures to show he was sorry. But sorry wasn’t enough. I told him that if he truly wanted to make amends, we needed to start anew. In my eyes, we were strangers now, and he had to court me like he did years ago when we first met.
So, we began again, slowly. We went on dates, starting with coffee and progressing to dinners. We talked a lot — about everything except the past. It was like rediscovering ourselves individually and as a couple. Jake was patient, perhaps realizing this was his last chance to salvage our once-loving relationship.
As I sit here now, reflecting on the past year, I realize how much I’ve changed. This betrayal forced me to reevaluate not only my marriage but also myself and my needs. I’ve learned that forgiveness isn’t just about accepting an apology; it’s about feeling secure and valued again. It’s a gradual process, one that we’re both committed to, step by step.
What would you have done if you were in my shoes? Share your thoughts on Facebook.
Lynda Wiesmeier: Cause of death, Playboy career, movies
Lynda Wiesmeier was an actress who made a splash with a few notable films.
Yet, it’s a particular image of her that has gained attention in recent years, capturing something that feels like a glimpse into a bygone era…
Her journey began in Bitburg, Germany, where her father served as a doctor in the U.S. Air Force. The family moved around quite a bit before Lynda finally landed in sunny Los Angeles. She also spent some time in Bound Brook, New Jersey, where she became a regular sunbather at the Jersey shore.
Starring in zombie movie
Lynda loved working and keeping busy, balancing three careers: modeling, acting, and clerical work in a medical office.
In 1982, her beauty caught the eye of Playboy, and she was featured as the centerfold Playmate in their July issue. After becoming a Playmate, Lynda entered a whirlwind phase in her show business career, starring in films that showcased her stunning natural physique. She appeared in movies like Real Genius (1985), Teen Wolf (1985), Malibu Express (1985), and R.S.V.P. (1984).
Final movie
But it was her final film that might just be the one to put Lynda Wiesmeier on the map. In 1987, she was cast as Dianne in the zombie horror flick Evil Town.
The film starred none other than the legendary Dean Jagger, who took on the role of a mad scientist on a quest for eternal youth. His method? Synthesizing a drug from human pituitary fluid, of course. As he extracted the fluid, things took a turn for the worse — the process resulted in mindless zombies created from the unfortunate donors.
By an interesting twist of fate, Evil Town also featured Keith Hefner, the younger brother of Playboy founder Hugh Hefner. With both Lynda and Keith on board, the film had quite the Playboy connection.
The film was set to hit theaters on June 3, 1987, but excitement was so high that many theaters started showing it a day early, on June 2. However, despite the buzz, Evil Town didn’t quite live up to expectations.
Critics panned it, calling it a “silly horror film.” Cavett Binion of All Movie Guide pointed out that the movie was a mishmash of scenes from earlier films, including an unfinished project from the 1970s, and added that it was “spiced up with some gratuitous nudity courtesy of former Playboy Playmate Lynda Wiesmeier.” Ouch!
Luckily, Lynda Wiesmeier was destined for a bit of a comeback. Somehow, a particular scene from Evil Town has gone viral in the years since its release.
However, it’s not for the reasons some might assume.
Lynda Wiesmeier photo
In this memorable moment, Lynda shares the screen with the nearly unknown actor Scott Hunter.
At first glance, this looks like your classic 1980s snapshot. In front of a Dodge car, a young man and woman strike a pose, both rocking quintessential ’80s attire. But take a closer look, and you might uncover something unexpected!
The man sports dark shorts and a gray hoodie splashed with colorful motifs, while Lynda shows off high-waisted white shorts paired with a bright red top, artfully knotted at the waist. Short shorts were just the style back then, and Scott wore them with corduroy shirts, which everyone seemed to have.
Their retro outfits scream ’80s fashion, making it a delightful throwback to the era for many. And that’s exactly what has people falling in love with this image.
Fashion in the 1980s was big, bright and bold – and we embraced a mix of styles, including punk, glam rock, and preppy looks.
We could play with colors, hair, makeup and lots of plastic jewelry and other crazy accessories. And sometimes, all it takes is a simple image from a lesser-known film to transport us back to this fantastic era – thanks for that, Lynda and Scott.
Left the industry
After leaving the film industry, Lynda embraced family life, marrying and welcoming two wonderful children —a son and a daughter— from her first marriage.
According to Joyce’s Take, the family settled in Lafayette, Louisiana, where Lynda took on the role of records manager in a law office.
However, life took a turn, and after a divorce in 2004, Lynda packed her bags and headed to sunny California, ready to start anew. Even as she moved on, Lynda cherished her connection with her fans. She became a familiar face at various fan conventions, like Glamourcon, The Hollywood Collectors Show, and WonderCon, where she shared her stories and signed autographs.
Cause of death
Sadly, Lynda’s journey was cut short when she passed away at just 49 in December 2012, following a brave battle with a brain tumor.
It’s bittersweet to think about what she might have shared about her time in films like Evil Town — a charming piece of cinematic history that captures a different era.
But even in her absence, we can still celebrate Lynda’s legacy and the joy she brought to her fans. Share this article if you also miss the 80s!
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