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TV's Guilty Pleasure hits desperately close to home

Submitted by lisam on 2006-02-14 and viewed 55 times.
Total Word Count: 714
  

She cooks. She cleans. She makes her own mulch. Her life looks perfect from the outside but....

She cooks. She cleans. She makes her own mulch. Her life looks perfect from the outside, but how does it feel from the inside? “Desperate Housewives,” ABC’s much talked about new series, reveals the inner angst behind the picture-perfect panacea of suburbia. And while Bree Van De Kamp, the Martha-maniac character who brings color-coded death baskets to a funeral and spit-shines her toilet, may be fun to watch, the show scratches the surface of a deeper issue — real-life women desperate to be perfect. The real-life desperate housewife is juggling three perfectly spaced kids, keeping a house that looks like a soap opera set and creating holiday decorations from recycled paper clips. And chances are, she’s not only having a nervous breakdown right about now, but she’s also probably shedding her tears alone in the bathroom, just like her TV twin. Behind every seemingly perfect exterior is a flawed human being with just as many neurosis and insecurities as the rest of us. Yet we remain convinced we’re the only ones not doing it right. We all know there’s some perfect person out there managing it better. She serves balanced meals on time, she never shouts, her budget includes gifts to the poor and prompt payment on all credit cards. And all marital conflicts are resolved using excellent communications skills. She doesn’t live on our block, but we know she’s out there and her vision haunts us. Well guess what? She’s not. And you know what I think is wrong with the rest of us? We’ve been sold a bill of goods! That image propagated by June Cleaver, Carol Brady and Shirley Partridge we’re trying to live up to isn’t the key to happiness. That image actually is standing in the way of our happiness. The TV depiction of “homemakers” may have loosened up enough to include single moms like Bonnie Franklin, taking it “One Day at a Time,” and slobs like Rosanne just barely getting by, but they still solved the entire family’s problems in 30 minutes flat (actually, 22 minutes plus commercials). “Desperate Housewives” opened with one of the perfect suburbanites putting a gun to her head and shattering the illusion that all was well on the home front. The show goes on to reveal the inner angst of housewives manifested in affairs, obsessive-compulsive domesticity and a woman who leaves her kids by the side of the road. The show wouldn’t be called “the guilty pleasure of the season” if it didn’t resonate with real life women everywhere. I can give you some tired yarn about how nobody’s perfect and all the homemakers you’ve ever seen on TV are actually working women reciting lines written for them by men. But instead, try this little quiz: Imagine you’re on vacation and you realize that you’ve left your electric blanket on, wadded up at the foot of your bed. Which neighbor would you rather ask to go walk all the way your house, into your bedroom to turn it off? The one whose home was on last year’s holiday tour? Or the woman who uses her formal dinning room as a laundry staging area? One of your kids is throwing a screaming fit in the checkout aisle. Who would you rather have behind you in line? The woman whose precious princess just skipped a grade? Or the mother of the “biter” from preschool? Trying to be perfect doesn’t make people like you more — it makes them like you less. We don’t want to be around perfect people. We want to be around people like us. All that perfect stuff is about what everybody else thinks and the images you’ve been fed over the years. You deserve some time to figure out what you think. The fancy furniture, DVD-playing minivans and themed parties can’t fill an emotional void that’s craving love. And making your world look like a detergent commercial will never satisfy the yearning we all have for a life that matters. It’s time to quit worrying about how your life looks from the outside and learn how to enjoy the way it feels on the inside. The most compelling reason to cast aside the happy homemaker myth isn’t because it’s too much for you. It’s because it’s too little.

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