Julie Jay: Even reading about families with eight children has me googling vasectomy clinics in Kerry

A recent newspaper interview with well-known influencer Hannah Neeleman has many people questioning the trad wife phenomenon and just how aspirational it really is

Julie Jay:  "Whilst I’m not saying I could ever do it myself, every time my three year old begs me not to leave and go to work I consider procuring an egg apron immediately and jacking it all in"

Hannah Neeleman was once a ballerina, but has since marketed herself as queen of the ‘trad wives’ and amassed a staggering 17 million followers on both Instagram and TikTok. Last week a Sunday Times article caused a bit of a stir, with many now questioning her lifestyle.

Her content is part of a movement which has seen many women online build their brands around a more traditional role of motherhood and home-making, with many creators — such as Neeleman and fellow trad wife queen Nara Smith — building businesses out of making everything from scratch. 

The fact that both Neeleman and Smith are Mormon is not something which has been massively seized on, but I would be lying if I didn’t sometimes wonder if I am being slowly indoctrinated into the church of Latter Day Saints through homemade chewing gum and graham crackers (forget ideology, the way to get me to convert to any religion is through snacks and snacks alone).

The response to the article was swift, with an onslaught of comments under posts by Neeleman wishing her well and expressing hope that she is okay. Many commenters seemed to feel uneasy with several aspects of the piece — most notably the worrying comment by Neeleman’s husband, Daniel, that Neeleman is sometimes so exhausted she has to go to bed for a week. 

In the wake of the feature, a video resurfaced of Neeleman opening her birthday present, voicing a hope of plane tickets to Greece, and instead being met with an egg-collecting apron and a ‘you’re welcome’ from her husband Daniel. Given the fact her husband is a multi-millionaire this must have been a bit of a let down, and is surely the Utah equivalent of being married to Michael O’Leary and getting a mop at Christmas.

It's hard not to feel slightly uneasy for Neeleman and to worry about the toll this lifestyle takes on her as an individual who is actively trying to keep the show on the road.

Neeleman has shot back with videos insisting that she loves her life and what she has built. Defiantly skipping through fields and basking in a sunset glow, Neeleman’s statement is clear: 'this is my choice, and I am happy'. We can only hope that this is true, because part of being a feminist is accepting that not everyone is going to make the same choice as you. 

It is allowing women to make choices which may even seem regressive or diminishing to those of us who have always felt defined by work and motivated by professional ambition.

Before I had kids, I can recall visiting an old school friend who had given up work to become a stay at home mother to her three kids when they were small. This same friend is a wonderful talent at baking, a trained chef, and a truly gifted cake maker.

“Would you ever set up your own business?” I asked, and my friend gave a non committed response whilst not immediately pooh-poohing the idea.

Over and over again I would sample a scone or a baked treat and excitedly remind her that she could ‘sell these’, like Paul McGuinness back in the early days of U2 reminding Bono that they could make a few bucks if he just gave up the tweed blazer and give a leather waistcoat a whirl.

Here’s the thing: as a parent, I get the allure of staying at home now, I do. Whilst I’m not saying I could ever do it myself, every time my three year old begs me not to leave and go to work I consider procuring an egg apron immediately and jacking it all in.

Whilst the odds of me ever harvesting hen eggs out the back are slim to none (considering I can’t even keep track of my own ovulation I don’t think this is a leap I should be making), I look back on those conversations with my good friend and cringe. Because my badgering her to start her own business and go back to work was completely disregarding the fact that she was already running a business: the business of being a homemaker, and working very hard indeed. Besides, not everyone’s hobby needs to be monetised, as anyone who has recalls the early days of Etsy will tell you. Whilst I am not disparaging making a bit of moolah off some make-and-do, I really feel the world can keep turning in the absence of octopus necklaces and mosaics made from toenail clippings.

Still, even the most hardened cynic could not be a little seduced by videos of these trad wife influencers churning butter and baking sourdough with fastidious attention to detail. There is something almost hypnotic about it, and without a shadow of a doubt a lot of the allure lies in the fact that, for so many of us, life is busy, and we can sometimes fantasise about a simpler existence, one which revolves around butter.

That being said, the fantasy tends to be brief, as even reading the names of Neeleman’s eight children has me so exhausted I end up googling vasectomy clinics in Kerry for my husband.

All we can hope for anyone is that their choice is theirs... that they are happy with it, and that they get a break too. Because staying at home is oftentimes the hardest work of all, with the demands of parenting making  The Wolf of Wall Street look like a fly-on-the-wall documentary about a TY student on work experience in RTÉ.

Of course, our collective wish is that all of these trad wives are assuming these roles because they want to. And we support them in that choice, even if it’s one we would never make ourselves. Daniel, if you’re taking a break from operating heavy machinery to read this article, book your wife a trip to Greece immediately. Your dad owns an airline, and she needs a bit of time where somebody else makes the butter. If you’re lucky, she might bring you back an apron. You’re welcome.