She is, by definition, a unicorn. She is a CEO, a seamstress, a real estate mogul, a chef, and a philanthropist—all before sunset. For centuries, this was the gold standard of wifely rarity. She was rare because she was indefatigable. She never complained, never failed, and her worth was "far above rubies" precisely because she was so hard to find.
One woman, who spent a decade trying to be the "cool, rare wife" who never complained about her husband’s long work hours or weekend golf trips, described the eventual collapse: “I realized I wasn’t rare. I was erased. I had made myself so small and so convenient that he didn’t even see me anymore.” the rare wife
But this historical rarity came with a contract: in exchange for being placed on a pedestal, the wife surrendered her messiness. There was no room for burnout, depression, or a sink full of dirty dishes. In the 21st century, the definition of a "rare wife" has evolved, but the pressure to be exceptional has not disappeared. Today, rarity is less about sewing garments and more about providing a specific kind of emotional and logistical luxury. She is, by definition, a unicorn