Check yo’self, before you Rodeo Wreck yo’self

There is nothing glamorous about my life other than the face I paint on every few days to post a social media pic so that I can portray myself as if I belong on a reality show. I live in a tin can on wheels, shoveling shit and throwing hay are my full body workouts and typically my #ootd are jeans I’ve had for 10 years and a rodeo groupie t-shirt that is a woman’s size small/f****** ginormous for anyone who isn’t 5’10”. I don’t want to complain, I love my life, but I also want to be a real mother f***** too.

What you think a Rodeo Wife/GF does  VS. What we actually do

The Image

• We spend our days traveling the Country with our super hot and studly cowboys
• We have an endless supply of high fashion and custom made pieces and that all boutiques are knocking at our door for us to wear their merchandise
• We don’t have to work, therefore those of us that do get to do what we love.

 

The Reality

• We spend our days stuck in a pick-up truck forced to endure our boyfriends or husbands disgusting body odors and gases while we purposely dehydrate ourselves so that our over active bladders don’t prolong the trip. Or the alternative, we stay home and see him once to twice in a month if we are lucky.
• We buy overly priced items at rodeo vendor booths and put together whatever is clean for out #ootd and call it western eclectic. “throw on those fringe boots and a red lipstick, that’s totally trendy.”
• We chose our love life over our own careers. Because we know how bad these guys really want it and we will do anything to help them succeed. even if that means doing their laundry in the sketchiest of laundromats and hoping that one day they will return the favor when its our turn to follow our dreams.

 

Obviously, this isn’t a just description of every partner to a rodeo cowboy, but it is, at least my own. I am constantly battling my inner demons, I can not make up my mind and I struggle everyday trying to make decisions on what is best for us and for my husband in his quest. Do I stay home and suck it up, get a real job to give us stability or do I wrecklessly throw caution at the wind and say f*** it, id rather be broke and watching you pick your wedgies everyday?!

(Wearing my fav. shirt that reads “There’s No Way You Woke Up Like That”)

The point is, rodeo wives are like icebergs. When you only see our photos on Instagram, or see us at Calgary, Houston or the NFR we look glam AF, but the rest of our days we are grimy AF.