"Why do you identify yourself by your husband's job?"
Very few have been bold enough to ask me this outright. But many have danced around the issue enough for me to consider figuring out how to help anyone outside of the sports industry understand.
The biggest reason is that it's so pervasive and all-encompassing of our day-to-day lives, schedules, and major life decisions that if you don't embrace it, it will lead to bitterness and resentment.
My sassy response is, "Have you ever been asked to participate in the interview process for your spouse's job?" If you can't say "yes", then it makes sense that it's hard for you to understand.
While he was working his way up the chain, it was always unofficial. "If your wife has any questions, let me know." "Make sure your wife is on board and then let me know if you want the job."
But, for his first interview to be a head coach, they asked and expected me to be present for the majority of the process. A big reason was that they didn't want anything lost in translation from coach to me that might cause me to hesitate to say yes to this big decision.
But really, the way this world works is that coach would represent the school. And since I reflect on him, by extension, I would also represent the school. And they wanted to get a sense of the entire package.
Like it or not, agree with it or not, if my coach wanted to participate in the interview process and potentially achieve his dream of running his own program, I had to acknowledge that part of my identity was tied to his job.
He didn't get that job, and we joke that it was my fault. And in a way, it was. The wife of the guy who got it was friends with a lot of big donors. The political side of this lifestyle won out. But that's a topic for a different blog.
However, my number one reason is that the longer I'm in this lifestyle, the more I find myself identifying myself by my husband's job, not for myself, and not even for him. It's for other sport industry wives.
The second they see that identifier, they know they have someone they can relate to.
They know there is someone they have more in common with than they don't.
They know there is someone who will understand them, and their highs and lows, what brings them joy and breaks their heart, what makes them worried and fills them with confidence, what makes them tick and what makes them want to explode.
When they hear I am in year 22, they know there is someone they can talk to who has either been through it, known someone who has, or can imagine what it would be like to go through it, and can advise and encourage them in their next steps.
When someone asks me to tell them something about myself, it’s not the first thing I say. And it’s not even the most interesting thing about me. But, even long after he’s hung up his whistle and is navigating life as a retiree, I will still identify myself in this way.
So, I guess the long story short is that I identify myself by my husband's job, not for those who have to ask the question "Why?" but for those who need to know the answer to "How?"