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“Divorce” was analogous to a curse word in Enitza Templeton’s hyper-traditional, faith-centered home.
With her husband hailed king of the castle — almost rivaling the Holy Trinity between God the Father, the Son and Holy Spirit — Templeton, who married at age 26, eagerly abandoned her dreams of pursuing a career in art to, instead, satisfy her man’s every command.
From growing the family’s produce in her private garden to gussying up in sexy outfits and cosmetics before he came home from work, the brunette’s routine became that of an extreme 1950s homemaker: obeying, baking and baby-making.
It’s a regimen that most traditional, or “trad,” wives follow based on religious principles.
Unlike housewives, women who manage their households and raise kids as equals to their working spouses, tradwives often become subservient subordinates whose sole purpose is to please their partner.
But by 36, the mother of four found herself feeling like “a prisoner” in her marriage — which ultimately ended in the once-taboo “D” word.
And Templeton shared that her biggest challenge post-divorce was navigating life without a solid education, professional résumé or real-world experiences.
The New Jersey native is just one in the rising army of former tradwives who, after saying “I Do” to a life of submissive servitude in their late teens or early 20s, are now virally warning women about the not-so-Instagrammable dark side.
“There aren’t a lot of tradwives over 35 or 40 because they’ve either got divorced and moved away from the lifestyle after learning how toxic it can be,” Templeton, now 43, a women’s advocate, currently based in Denver, Colorado, told The Post.
Online discourse around former trad wives erupted recently after Jessica Valenti, a NYC feminist speaker and author, asked a seemingly light-hearted question on social media, “Where are they hiding all the 47-year-old tradwives? Why are they not out there espousing how amazing this lifestyle is?”
More than 2 million people watched the video, and the comments section suddenly became a virtual confessional booth for millennial and Gen X gals, similar to Templeton, who’d endured severe trauma after leading an ostensibly sweet life.
“At a certain age, I got to a point in the marriage where I was like, ‘Oh my god, is this really what I want to do with my life? What comes after this?” Templeton told The Post.
Of the tradwives who do stay in their marriages, she believes they have become “dead inside, and that’s why they’re not promoting the lifestyle like some of the young popular tradwives online.”
“[Older tradwives] are keeping their heads down, gritting their teeth and waiting to die because that’s all there is left for them. That’s their only escape.”
Templeton’s estimation, while grim and certainly extreme, echoes the sentiments of the over 4,000 women, ages 35 and beyond, digitally ringing the alarm about the pitfalls of becoming financially, physically, emotionally and mentally dependent on a partner.
“Married at 20, divorced at 38. Raising 7 kids. No job history, no college, no experience,” a woman named Samantha commented beneath Valenti’s vid.
“[I was] married off at 17, divorced 10 years later. I’m now 37 and every day is a poverty-stricken struggle,” admitted one woman, describing herself as a high school dropout and single mom of three daughters.
“I grieve intensely for my 17-year-old self. I always thought I would be someone and it’s devastating,” she added.
Templeton’s own decision to escape from tradwifery came when she was 39-weeks pregnant at the hospital side of her second oldest child, who was undergoing open heart surgery, in 2017.
But with no money, job or clear way out, the wannabe escapee had to get creative.
“I told my husband I wanted to get a little job so that I could retire him,” said Templeton, adding that most men in “trad” marriages enjoy feeling like, “he is your god, he is your leader, he is your mouthpiece to God, you should do everything to serve him.”
“So I used that aspect of the lifestyle to convince him to let me begin earning money,” she said. Templeton became a certified nursing assistant, and after two years of stashing cash, the breadwinner “pulled the trigger to leave” — and was officially divorced in August 2019.
While her journey to total independence has been fraught with roadblocks, including having to rent a house, pay bills and become financially responsible for herself and kids for the first time, Templeton said her newfound freedom is “crazy empowering.”
“It’s like standing on the edge of a cliff, you’re exhilarated but scared at the same time,” she explained. “It’s terrifying, but so worth it.”
Christine, 40, an ex-tradwife based in the southeast, agrees.
She’s been living on her own, surviving off of the small salary she’s earned as a hotel staffer since divorcing her ex-husband, who she also chose not to name, in January 2024.
“When I filed for divorce, I learned very quickly that I had even less control over my life and finances than I’d thought,” said Christine, who chose not to share her last name with The Post, married her ex at age 17, shortly after meeting at church camp, and had three kids by 24.
“I was taught to submit to my husband no matter what, and if there was infidelity in the marriage, it was probably because of something I’d done wrong. But if I prayed harder, and contorted myself to his will, he’d become a true man of God.
“If there was cheating, I justified it by saying, ‘Well, it’s just sex. I have the ring. He comes home to me. He takes care of me and our kids,’” remembered Christine. “He became my identity. I was solely an extension of him.”
She willingly ditched her goals of becoming a nurse or joining the Marines to raise a family and support her entrepreneurial husband’s small business.
But after being diagnosed with Lyme disease in 2017, an affliction that rendered Christine intensely ill but didn’t excuse her from her marital and motherly duties — including taking full charge of the children, preparing all the meals, keeping an immaculately clean home and being “enthusiastically” prepared to perform sexually at any time — the ailing trawife suddenly began saying “No,” to her husband’s demands.
Her uncharacteristic noncompliance caused severe tension.
“I prayed, ‘God, if you want this marriage to work, then please change his heart,’ countless times,” she recalled.
In the end, after nearly two decades, she pulled the plug.
“It took a long time to learn how to be independent, to not feel like I needed him to support me, all while healing,” she said. “It was excruciating.”
Now, well down the road of recovery, Christine hopes her story encourages tradwives to have strategic backup plans.
“Your partner should want you to be autonomous. Your partner should want you to reach your highest potential above all else,” said Christine.
“It is absolutely possible for husbands and wives to take on traditional roles if they’re both doing so in good faith.”
Sansa, 36, a mother of two, from Columbus, Ohio, also wants tradwives to be vigilant.
As a erstwhile woman of the tradwife culture — an ex-military wife who married her husband fresh out of high school at 18, forfeiting an academic scholarship to college, only to be divorced by 25 — she urges youngsters to wait before taking the plunge.
“I got married at an age when a lot of girls are overwhelmed by uncertainty.
“Then here comes this guy offering you a fairytale romance of marriage and motherhood, and accepting it feels like you’re pressing the ‘Easy’ button,” Sansa, who also opted to withhold her last name, told The Post.
Sadly, the “easy” life she’d expected to lead as a tradwife left the child bride with nothing but heartache and hardships.
“My marriage wasn’t some lovey-dovey partnership. The house and kids were my responsibilities. I had to have dinner waiting on the table every night, I had to dress modestly outside of the house so that I didn’t draw attention to myself, but dress sexy for him when he came home from work,” said Sansa, who, by 2014, could barely recognize herself in the mirror.
“I felt like I had swallowed so much of myself. I couldn’t even hear my own voice in my head anymore and I panicked.”
Sansa filed for divorce without a college degree or a dime to her name. She urges young women to think ahead before trading away their lives for the title of tradwife.
“I’m not saying traditional marriages always go bad, but the consequences of things going bad are severe,” Sansa warned.
Sansa, now a nurse, raising her 18-year-old daughter and 13-year-old son, says leaving the tradwife life has been beneficial for her brood.
“I’m committed to modeling healthy choices and relationships for my kids,” she said. “I want my daughter to see me as an empowered woman capable of making my own decisions and having my own identity.”
