In a gray-couch living room bathed in natural light, a cheerful voice offers dire counsel to wives: better your family contract the bubonic plague than you nag your husband about basic hygiene. Welcome to the booming world of online courses promising Christian women domestic bliss through calculated submission.
Tilly Dillehay, a 38-year-old Baptist writer and pastor's wife, operates one of the most polished versions of this cottage industry. Her six-week course, Wife School, sells for $17 and teaches women how to "become the kind of woman who inspires a godly leader." The formula is simple: smile, stay attentive, don't complain, even silently accept what bothers you. Dillehay's pitch rests on her own visible proof: a satisfied husband, picture-perfect children, a home that could belong in a design magazine.
She is far from alone. Ashley Lima, a "feminine coach" with 300,000 social media followers, charges $167 for her "Feminine Reset Course," promising to teach women how to become "the Queen that inspires her man to lead, protect and provide." Both women operate within a conservative Christian movement that has identified feminism as the root cause of women's unhappiness, offering their courses as spiritual correction.
The timing is deliberate. Young women aged 18 to 29 are abandoning organized religion at alarming rates, troubled by its rigid positions on gender roles. Meanwhile, their male counterparts appear to be experiencing a religious reawakening. Experts who study this space see a strategic response: teaching women that stability and contentment lie in surrendering autonomy at home.
"These women are selling the idea that God would never steer you wrong, but what they're really selling is stability," said Mariah Wellman, an assistant professor at Michigan State University who researches influencers and the wellness industry. "They're building businesses that exploit feelings of inadequacy."
The ideology underlying these courses draws from a resurgent conservative movement. This month, Fox News host Lara Trump pointed to a poll claiming 47 percent of Gen Z women wanted to be "trad wives," rejecting the "girlboss" ethos that left women burnt out. The poll itself was conducted by a college paper-writing service, and its definition of tradwife included simply having "a loving marriage, a stable job, a home full of kids." No butter churning required.
Dillehay avoids the aesthetic trappings of influencers like Erika Kirk, the widow of Charlie Kirk who is touring nationally promoting "Biblical womanhood." Instead, she projects June Cleaver domesticity while echoing their arguments. In February, Jessa Seewald of the Duggar family gave Wife School an endorsement, calling it "encouraging, practical, and rooted in truth."
The Marriage as Machine
At the core of Wife School lies a tandem bicycle metaphor. The husband steers from the front. The wife pedals from behind, "exerting effort without being in control." When disagreements arise, wives learn "the skill of 'zip it'."
Dillehay frames submission as empowering. A man "shuts down when he feels like he can't please," she teaches. If wives accept their subordinate position as a choice, it feels voluntary, even liberating. Wellman notes this carefully: "When Christian wives are taught that there is power in accepting an inferior position at home, that feels very comforting, because there's this sense of autonomy in that choice."
Dillehay's background includes high school teaching, insurance sales, and managing editor work at a small-town newspaper. She trained with the Association of Biblical Counselors, an unaccredited certificate program she did not complete. "I think the people you should get marriage advice from are people who are happily married themselves," she wrote in response to scrutiny. She claims 700 women are enrolled.
Lima's course similarly sidesteps the husband's role. Using pink and blue pills to represent "feminine" and "masculine" energy, she warns wives that taking too much initiative pushes their husband "into his feminine energy," turning him into a boy. Women are told to rewrite negative thoughts about their husbands' behavior. Instead of "My husband doesn't help with chores," think "My husband has time and space for other things." Express gratitude three times daily. The issue remains; only your mindset changes.
Husbands' actions are never interrogated. Their shortcomings become opportunities for wives to adjust their perceptions and behavior. When these teachings reach women shaped by evangelical purity culture, the impact deepens. Many report entering marriage unprepared, having received little honest education about their bodies or sexuality, only fear-based warnings against premarital exploration.
Sex as Obligation
Wife School's approach to marital intimacy reveals the limits of any progressive positioning. Dillehay advises wives to "take their own pleasure seriously," a framing that might sound enlightened until the context emerges: pleasure matters because it increases the husband's satisfaction.
More starkly, Dillehay states flatly: "A husband expects a yes" when he requests sex, citing Corinthians against depriving one another. She likens marital sex to pizza, where even bad pizza is still acceptable. This "frozen pizza" metaphor, implying wives sometimes settle for unwanted sex, glosses over consent. When challenged, Dillehay clarified via email that forcing a wife into sex is wrong. The frozen pizza reference, she said, simply means "sometimes sex is just sex and that's OK."
Elena Trueba, a writer covering Christian fundamentalist culture, attended Wife School and discovered that abuse resources don't appear until week six, and then only as disclaimers that the course isn't equipped to address difficult issues like pornography use or abuse suspicions. Dillehay instead directs wives to materials by Christian counselor Jim Newheiser, who has written that abuse sometimes stems from a victim's "sinfulness." The implication becomes clear: wives are responsible for correcting their husbands' behavior, including violent or coercive acts.
"Wives are told that abuse is their problem, something they need to fix," Trueba said.
Research reinforces the danger. A March study by Rachael D Robnett, a psychology professor at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, examined men who support the tradwife movement. She expected to find "benevolent sexism" cloaked in chivalry. Instead, she found men who were "overt, explicit and hostile" in their sexism, believing stay-at-home wives had easier lives and that breadwinning husbands were exploited. Yet these same men depended on women for "physical and emotional intimacy," simultaneously resenting and controlling them.
"The element of submission is a major draw for men who have negative attitudes toward women," Robnett said.
Connected to the Patriarchal Pipeline
Dillehay's reach extends beyond Wife School. She has published three Christian self-help books. Her latest, an allegorical novel inspired by C.S. Lewis's "The Screwtape Letters," was published by Canon Press, an imprint owned by Douglas Wilson, an Idaho-based pastor who opposes women's suffrage, proudly identifies as a Christian nationalist, and has promoted pro-Confederacy views. For 50 years, Wilson has anchored a theocratic vision in Moscow, Idaho, where his followers aim to establish governance based on his moral authority.
Tia Levings, an ex-fundamentalist who escaped Wilson's congregation in 2007, recognized Dillehay's course as "old ideas with new faces." The difference is strategic. "Those are women who have jobs," Levings said of higher-profile figures like Erika Kirk and Christian influencer Allie Beth Stuckey. "They preach the same doctrines, but they don't actually embody it. Dillehay stands out. She's not flashy, she doesn't wear a lot of jewelry, her social media is very manageable for one person staying at home. It has that authenticity to it."
This authenticity is marketing genius. "Her audience thinks they're being studious," Levings continued. "It doesn't manifest a different outcome, but it will appeal to their intelligence, so they think they're making a critical decision."
The broader context matters. A recent survey found a third of Americans support or sympathize with Christian nationalist ideals. Women hold these views at the same rate as men. Wife School never explicitly discusses politics, but its curriculum primes students for compliance with a vision of rigid patriarchal governance where wives and mothers play supporting roles.
Dillehay's final message to students encapsulates the entire philosophy. After submitting to "her obedient place at home," she noticed "a sweetness" felt by her husband and children. Happiness, in her telling, comes at the cost of silence and obedience. As she frames it: "If you're going to suffer, suffer as a righteous woman."
Author James Rodriguez: "These courses are dressed up as self-help and spirituality, but they're really just a playbook for ensuring women accept whatever their husbands do or fail to do."
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