Eliza Reid

Or can I?

Once again, no rule book meant I could do what I wanted.

And I thought, if I don't tell anybody I'm pitching this story, no one can try to talk me out of it.

So I aimed big.

I pitched a story to the New York Times, and I got to work writing, including a line, which is a bit of a clumsy metaphor, but is something I became a little bit remembered by, which is this.

I'm not my husband's handbag, which he can grab as he runs out the door and display silently by his side at public appearances.

Now, the night before this story was set to be published, I tossed and I turned and I couldn't get to sleep at all.

And I remember thinking, what have you done?

You're just asking for trouble.

You're just asking for internet trolls to come out there and say things.

People are going to say, you're whining, you're complaining about things, you're too privileged to make these comments.

Somebody might even think I'm a bad writer.

But I woke up again the next morning and the comments were really, really largely positive.

I actually remember there was a Biden era White House correspondent who retweeted that she thought the first lady of Finland was a badass.

You're welcome to Finland.

But you know, I realize that very few people end up married to a head of state.

But a great many people, very often women, end up married to someone who, for whatever reason, is better known than they are.

And they could relate to what that does to their identity.

And I know that I'm very fortunate.

Even any other First Lady that had published an unauthorized op-ed in the New York Times without first having it vetted, approved, or even written by a team of PR professionals, they would be raked over the coals in all likelihood.