Inna Shukshina

Recently in a consultation the word “valyaevshchina” came up — meaning that the woman had been into it, but it had passed. It turned out that people have already coined a term for the model in which a woman pleases her husband and waits for dresses and flowers from him. I am not one for harsh criticism myself: there is much that is useful in Olga Valyaeva’s model too. She was the first to offer any helping hand at all to worn-out housewives, and indeed the first to remember them and their problems. But many women write to me about how they tried to do everything according to the articles, and in the end things only got worse — they started to lose themselves. And there is no feedback on the site and no one to help them with their problems. And there is no alternative. Let me also tell you about my own personal experience with this topic.

“This morning I woke up with a feeling of freedom. Yes, at last the eternal word ‘must’ has stopped hanging over me.”


“better I do it myself”, “I can handle everything”… This is typical not only of businesswomen and “unfeminine” women, but also of those who do everything by all the “rules of femininity”, who want to be an exemplary homemaker, mother and wife. If a woman used to carry both a job and the home on her back, it will be easier for her if she carries only the home. But she will still be carrying, not living her own life. She will do everything for the sake of others, pushing herself aside.

The same “I’ll do it myself” appears in the housewife as well. Tired — no, you still must; you want help — but the relatives are not eager to help, you do not want to invite a stranger into the home, and your husband works and gets tired. So it is “I must” again. And the situation is unlikely to get better over the years, unless you teach the children 

At the beginning of our family life the duties distributed themselves, freely.Tired — my husband helps; I did more of the cooking, and he did more of the washing up. While we had a baby, the household was largely on my husband in many respects. But then we moved, and our relationship was seen by “the older generation”. It seemed wrong to them that my husband also washed the dishes, and they scolded us a great deal about it. What matters, they said, is at least to make it look as though the household is on you and your husband does not go near it. At first I tried to resist, but then the wish to please and the feeling of guilt took over and I began to take more and more of the housework on myself. Plus I read books that teach that the home is a woman’s duty. That is good for those who are already in a situation where there is no help and never will be, and such an ideology helps them come to terms with reality.

But for me it turned into mounting exhaustion. Despite the fact that there were three small children, no one forgave the mess and I was blamed for it. My husband did not refuse to help when I asked, but it began to seem wrong to me to ask him to take part in this, and I asked less and less and endured more. My health kept getting worse, there was constant exhaustion. Gradually I began to notice new qualities in my husband: complaints of the type “you cooked the wrong thing”, “you spent time with the children the wrong way”.

And I began to realise that with my own hands I had turned a normal family — even if it did not fit the notions of “society” (which can boast an enormous percentage of divorces, infidelities, “stupid women” and “men who are swine”) — into a traditional one, where the woman carries everything on herself and the husband works and rests on the sofa. This arrangement had always been unpleasant to me, because it was exactly what bred irritation and resentment in women, whereas I had a family people envied — a husband always ready to help in his free time, no complaints towards me.

And I decided that my husband should become brutal and sharp, and I — compliant. I tried to endure everything, to please. But in the end I received more and more complaints. On the other hand, now I was not ashamed before the older generation: like them, I carried the home on myself, and my husband only worked. It did not matter that I tried to do it with love, that I gave time to myself and to hobbies — it was still very hard in my case, with small children, none of whom went to nursery (they got ill there), and there was no outside help at all at the time. The fact that I also earned some money (as much as, and even less than, most of the population earns) did not really count for those around me or for the clever books — the home is a woman’s job all the same.

And one day, at a complaint from my husband, I got indignant and sulked. I said no, I have had enough. My husband said: now you are behaving like a real woman. Not when you are trying to please me. And he went to wash the dishes.

Because in a truly happy family there is no place for the words “she must” and “he must”, and no place for the wish to please, to remake yourself to fit a standard, and for long lists of obligations!