
Emma Lee ('27)
The tradwife trend exemplifies an anti-feminist movement.
While scrolling through TikTok the other day, I watched a video of a seemingly ordinary day-in-the-life of a stay-at-home mom. The video followed a familiar formula: a soft-spoken voiceover, shots of a big modern home, and meticulously crafted clips of what looked like a perfect life. When I opened the comments, one recurring word came up: tradwife.
Short for “traditional wife,” the concept of the tradwife has blown up on TikTok. These women aren’t just documenting their daily routines as devoted wives and mothers. They are also promoting an outdated ideology rooted in traditionalism: that a woman’s worth lies in her submission to her husband. While such videos may not sway women who feel confident in their feminist identity, they can easily confuse younger women who are still forming their beliefs. Such media can drive young women to conform to a regressive ideology.
The roots of feminism lie in a long history of resistance to gender inequalities and patriarchal systems. The movement exists to ensure women and men alike can live with equal rights, opportunities, and respect. The tradwife trend erases that progress—it glorifies a return to pre-feminist gender roles known for their rigid constraints and inhumane treatment of women. By romanticizing these ideals in their TikToks, tradwife influencers inadvertently promote traditions that are both sexist and dangerous.
One of the most striking instances of a tradwife figure is Hannah Neelman, better known as “Ballerina Farm.” A Juilliard-trained dancer with dreams of a professional ballet career, Hannah’s trajectory shifted after marrying Daniel Neelman, the son of JetBlue’s founder. She left behind her aspirations and now lives on a 328-acre ranch in Utah, where she is raising eight children and running her popular social media page.
The controversy over Hannah Neelman grew when The New York Times published an article titled “Tycoon or Tradwife? The Woman Behind Ballerina Farm Makes Her Own Path.” Many readers remarked that Hannah looked exhausted and expressed dismay that her dreams had been put aside after marriage. In one video, she even admitted she would have loved a trip to Greece for her birthday, but instead received from her husband an apron to collect chicken eggs.
Despite the uproar over Hannah’s life, the deeper question remains: how do we prevent the retreat into tradwifery? This solution requires us to tackle both the structural barriers and the cultural narratives endorsed by society. Economic uncertainty often makes the traditional domestic roles of women seem safer and more attainable. To counter this, we must secure livable wages, paid leave, and affordable childcare—measures that make independence viable. That means creating conditions where women can choose to live, work, and support themselves without having to rely on a partner for survival. At the same time, it is crucial to challenge the romanticization of the tradwife ideology by revealing how that ideal erases the hardships women went through for equality. While genuine choices to stay home and parent should be respected, we must push back when domesticity is framed as the only moral or superior option. Because tradwife culture often draws people in with its sense of belonging and safety, feminist communities must work to create equally supportive, aspirational spaces that celebrate freedom and plurality. As an additional point, I am happy to report that Hannah did eventually get her trip to Greece.