Stop the Silda-bashing

AM I the only one furious at the commentators, pundits and so-called "friends" of Silda Spitzer? The ones who've been condemning her for standing at her husband's side for what were two of the most traumatic moments in the life of their family - his Monday apology and yesterday's resignation.

Yes, Eliot Spitzer's actions have been sickening and vile. It's a history of hidden money and high-priced hookers - some wary of his "unsafe" proclivities - the last escapade the evening before and morning of Valentine's Day, a few hours before he publicly embraced his beautiful wife and lovely daughters. Still, none of us can know how we'd act in Silda Spitzer's shoes. Think Hillary Clinton, who in her headband days swore she wasn't a gal to stand by her man.

What we do know is that someone who does business in a ruthless way, which Spitzer did to Wall Street and as governor, won't be a trustworthy spouse. And that those who present themselves as squeaky clean usually have dirty secrets.

A wife raised to be loyal, to sacrifice for others, may be so committed to succeed in marriage that clues either will not be seen or will be disregarded. In such marriages, it's easy to distract oneself with abundant responsibilities and the perks of privilege.

Silda Spitzer has described her North Carolina Baptist home as one with precisely this quality of loyalty and sacrifice. Dad was a hospital administrator, mom a homemaker. Before Harvard Law, Silda was an honors graduate of Meredith, a women's Baptist college. According to a profile in the New York Times, her father decided that the name that suited his daughter was an adaptation of the German Serilda, which Silda says means "Teutonic war goddess." She has been described as strong and directed, and her path upward in life was predictable.

The current humiliation, however, isn't her first. In 1982, her first marriage to a fellow Harvard student ended after only 29 days.

Two years later, on a skiing trip, Silda met the privileged and driven Eliot. They were both staying at a Vermont house rented by a group of friends. He skied. She didn't. He taught her.

The relentless New York Jew whose real-estate-mogul father bankrolled his career in politics and the southern beauty appeared to have the strongest of marriages. As Spitzer threw himself into politics, Silda gave up her law practice, devoting herself to family and philanthropy.

EVEN SPITZER'S table manners, likened to a public execution, improved. Silda's charm and even nature appeared to ease her husband's rough edges and stubborn personality. But not entirely, as their shocked friends and community, and far beyond, now know. At both press conferences, Silda seemed dazed, in disbelief, her eyes brimming with tears.

It was poignant to see her wearing the same double strand of pearls she wore on the day of her husband's inauguration as governor, where she was wide-eyed and dazzling in bright red.

Yet even in a moment of disgrace on Monday, for one very brief second, Silda looked at her husband with warmth

and compassion. A woman raised to marry up, but never overtly ambitious in her own right, Silda Wall Spitzer needs the pundits, experts, and "friends" to zip their lips. To be left alone to take the time to make up her own mind about the personal direction she will take.

And how she can best care for and protect her daughters. This decision is absolutely no one's business but her own. *

SaraKay Smullens, social worker and family therapist, (sarakaysmullens.com) writes about social and political issues.