Sunday, April 16, 2017


Herself speaks.

Oh, tax season. How I abhor you.

I reviewed all of the tax forms this evening; we received them from our tax preparer yesterday. (Apparently we all are waiting until the last minute. Good times.)

This year, for the first time, a return needed to be prepared for a neighboring state. (This was due to the Project, which was conducted in an adjacent desert state.)  That's fine -- income was generated there, income tax should be paid there.

Yet when I reviewed the form, it was patterned exactly like our federal tax return: Beloved Husband is the primary, and I am the Spouse.

I despair.

I do not object, per se, to the denomination of "Spouse": I certainly willingly identify as Beloved Husband's spouse, and have done so for nearly twenty-six years now. It is just the way it is presented on the tax forms: a stark second-class status -- a person who is a hanger-on, a mere appendage. And given that I was the only one who earned income in the neighboring state, it seems... insulting somehow to still have the return under his name with mine as the auxiliary.

Why must I be secondary on the forms?

I am not secondary.

I am the Rock, the Glue that Holds Everything Together, the One Who Takes Care Of Things.

I do not want accolades for what I do.

I just want not to be merely an accessory.

I want to matter, for myself.

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