What in the actual heck is an “insular” marriage? The prompt for this question are articles in the legacy media now that Ron DeSantis has thrown his hat in the 2024 Presidential Election. Florida Governor Ron and First Lady Casey DeSantis have an insular marriage. Good for them. At the end of it all, when the crowds are gone, the kids are grown and it’s just the two of you, that insular marriage will be your joy. I say to the jealous scribes writing these vicious pieces, leave Casey DeSantis alone, fools.

Last month, our Kim wrote a post about Casey DeSantis being the target of a political attack article in Politico. The articles coming out today expand and advance the theme. Mrs. DeSantis is blessed with her television reporter experience she is used to the incoming. AND, it’s only going to get worse.

Insular marriage is a weird way to describe a happy committed marriage.

These people are miserable and want everyone else to be as well. https://t.co/5N86TBVJhg

— Brian Jacobson (@BrianHJacobson) June 19, 2023

My experience of life tells me that all the best marriages are “insular”. I am not saying you do everything together or you don’t have friends, but you put each other first in all you do. You are protective of your spouse and keep his/her best interests in mind. Is that so weird? Apparently to the Washington Post, the answer is yes, which explains so much.

Tracing the power of Casey DeSantis
As Ron DeSantis pursues the presidency, his wife’s role is limitless. Casey, 42, isn’t a typical political spouse. Why does that inspire so much fear? Her rise in TV and insular marriage tell the story.

From the article:

Ron was always talking about the two of them as one — when “we” got elected, when “we” protect freedom, when “we” fight the woke agenda — as if it was hard to see his role and hers in clear relief. Reporters approached Casey’s story with phrases like “co-governor,” “secret weapon,” “not-so-secret weapon” — the “X-factor” who “knows what’s best for Ron.” Ron was known to inspire fear, even in his allies. “If you can’t make ’em see the light,” he has said, quoting Ronald Reagan, “make ’em feel the heat.” But Casey — she was a subject they wouldn’t touch if they didn’t have to.
She stood, as many political spouses do, whether they wish to or not, as a mirror onto which the public could project its doubt and its criticism: Where Ron was hard and bellicose, people said, Casey was soft. Where he was unable to connect with voters, she was charming, telegenic, warm to the touch. Where he broke his stage presence — with an angry outburst, or a wild, sarcastic look in his eyes — she was steady in front of an audience. As a young TV anchor, she would stand in front of her bathroom mirror, practicing, practicing, practicing. Before debates during his campaign for governor in 2018, he was instructed to write “LIKABLE” in all-caps across the top of his notepad, according to footage published by ABC News, like a reminder.

Omgravy, Casey DeSantis used a commons technique, practicing in front of a mirror when she was just starting out. AND, if I were writing this article, I would not mentions notes on cards, given the last couple years of Creepy Joe Biden and his notes.

Here is more:

Casey declined requests to be interviewed for this article. In response to an email detailing the reporting in this story, a DeSantis spokesman declined to comment.
Casey faded from an entire life in Jacksonville to be here, by her husband’s side as he runs for president. She was with him on stages, telling voters she got to marry her “hero.” She was with him on rope lines, wearing a black leather jacket bearing his slogan, “Where Woke Goes to Die.” She was with him at picnics like this one in Iowa, where the governor moved through a tent to grill steaks for the cameras. Or he thought she was. He tied a red apron around his waist and gripped a spatula. “Where’s your better half, governor?” someone asked. Behind him, a matching apron, printed with CASEY DESANTIS in bold, lay untouched beneath the tent.

You have got to be kidding. Why on Earth Casey DeSantis want to comment for a WaPo hit piece. The black leather jacket with “Where Woke Goes to Die”. Is very cool.

They go after Mrs. DeSantis calling her a Walmart Melania. Two different women at different life stages with different priorities. Only fools would make a comparison. The Left definitely don’t like Casey’s eyebrows:

It wouldn’t be in good taste for me to mock how Casey DeSantis flattens and irons her humongous eyebrows. She probably hopes that they’ll distract voters from her fascist husband’s high-pitched whining voice because they’ve already distracted people from an eclipse. pic.twitter.com/9P6wz36eml

— Dr. David A. Lustig (@drdave1999) June 19, 2023

But what will forever torque off the Democrats is a loving couple in a happy marriage:

Ron and Casey live as an inner circle of two. They were always two private people, trusting of each other, often exclusively so, but the level of prominence and power they achieved in Tallahassee seemed to insulate their world further, creating a level of distance between Ron and Casey and everyone else. They don’t take social calls to the mansion, except for Christmas receptions and Easter egg rolls and the like. DeSantis’s supporters say this is a good thing, to be so focused on “the mission” at work and on their family at home. They say Ron and Casey are normal people in abnormal positions. Normal people go to Chick-fil-A, they say, just like Ron and Casey do. Normal people play T-ball with their kids, just like Ron and Casey do. At the residence, invited guests post Instagram photos standing next to a sign that reads “Governor’s Mansion: Closed to Visiting.” Outside, new layers of security fencing have been added to the perimeter.

The fools at the Washington Post are jealous. That is all.

Featured Image: Flgov/cropped/Creative Commons