My POV on the Institution of Marriage

There’s a quiet turning point in a woman’s life where you find yourself in your early 30s and suddenly most of the people around you are focused on marriage. The conversations shift. Engagements come up more often. Conversations about being a ‘wife’ seem to be brought up out of nowhere. Timelines start getting discussed. It can feel abrupt, even if you knew this phase was coming.

I was raised conservative Christian, where marriage and purity rings were expectations placed on girls from a very young age. Marriage and children were talked about as a certainty, not a possibility. It was something that was assumed and reinforced long before I was old enough to question it.

As I grew into the woman I am today, someone who rejects misogyny in all its forms and refuses to romanticize patriarchy, I’ve found myself at a strange crossroads. I genuinely want my peers to be happy and in loving relationships. At the same time, I am deeply pragmatic about the institution of marriage itself.

That pragmatism is shaped by my anti-patriarchal worldview and by my sexual and romantic orientation as asexual and polyamorous. If I were ever to enter a marriage, it would look nothing like the one I was taught to aspire to. It would require an ironclad prenuptial agreement. All assets would be protected. The marriage would be reviewed every five years, with both parties actively deciding whether to continue. My name staying the same would be non-negotiable. Like all of my relationships, it would be non-sexual, and it could be platonic or romantic, as long as it was non-exclusive. The purpose would be practical. Global mobility. Health benefits. Joint assets. Wealth building.

I would never get married for love. At its core, marriage is a business arrangement. From my point of view, it should be entered into with that level of honesty.

Where My Resistance Comes From

My resistance to marriage comes from two places. One is the sheer number of women who enter it because of cultural, societal, or familial pressure and gain very little from legally binding themselves to a man. The other is simpler. I don’t enjoy weddings.

Marriage was never established for the liberation of women. It was designed to regulate their lives and limit their autonomy. There was a time when women could not open a bank account, own property, or access credit without a husband. I will never forget my grandmother telling me how proud she was that I had my own credit card, because when she was my age, a bank told her no. She needed her husband’s permission.

Being “Mrs.” followed by a man’s full name was not romantic. It was a form of security in a society that did not recognize women as fully autonomous people. When viewed through an intersectional lens, Black women were already dehumanized through race, and gender compounded that harm. Many marriages lasted not because they were healthy, but because women had no financial means to leave. When your survival depends on someone else, your ability to make choices about your own life shrinks dramatically.

In conservative Christian culture, marriage is framed as sacred, but in practice it is often about control. A husband is positioned as the head. Submission is taught as virtue. Women are told their bodies are not their own and that purity is something to preserve for a future husband. After marriage, access to a woman’s body becomes expected rather than chosen. Autonomy and boundaries are rarely centered in these relationships.

Marriage still carries social weight. Being chosen by a man and wearing a diamond continues to signal respectability in a way that remaining unmarried does not. I know more women who regret being married than women who enjoy it. I also know many women who divorced their husbands and began thriving in ways they never did while married. And yet, marriage is still treated as a milestone women are expected to reach, with pressure increasing the older we get.

Women no longer need marriage in order to survive. Despite that, it remains a central goal for many, which raises an important question. What are the actual benefits?

Practically speaking, marriage does still offer advantages. There is a reason the LGBTQIA+ community fought for marriage equality. Legally, it can matter. Global mobility is one of the most significant benefits. Marriage can make citizenship, residency, and visas more accessible across countries. Healthcare is another. One partner may have strong insurance while the other does not, and marriage can dramatically improve access to care.

There are also financial advantages. Two incomes can accelerate wealth building when one salary supports daily expenses and the other is invested jointly. With the right partner, early retirement and an improved quality of life become possible. These benefits are especially relevant for people who want children or are intentionally planning long-term financial stability.

If two people decide that legally binding themselves together is thoughtful, intentional, and mutually beneficial, I support that. But it should be a choice rooted in clarity, not conditioning. Love can be a factor in the overall decision, as long as it doesn’t trump the practicality (which it often does for many women).

I also believe you can be deeply in love with someone, fully committed to them, and still decide that legally binding yourself to that person is not in your best interest. Marriage has never been the highest form of commitment to me, and I don’t see non-marital romantic relationships as lesser than marital ones. I view marriage as a specific relationship structure with higher legal and financial stakes. Because of that, it shouldn’t be entered into casually.

I believe prenuptial agreements should be standard. You don’t skip wearing a seatbelt because you don’t plan to crash. Accidents happen, even when no one expects them to. In the same way, you protect yourself when entering a legal agreement because life changes, people change, and outcomes are never guaranteed.

“Till death do us part” feels unrealistic to me. Maybe it made sense in a time when people lived into their thirties, but now many of us will live into our eighties or beyond. Life is long. Divorce is SUPER common. Relationships end for countless reasons. Planning for the possibility of separation isn’t pessimistic, it’s responsible. If you’re going to enter a legal agreement with real consequences, minimizing harm should be part of the decision from the very beginning.

So no, I am not against marriage. I am against patriarchal tradition and the pressure that pushes women into legal arrangements that do not serve them. I am against marrying for love while pretending the institution itself isn’t transactional, and against prioritizing a grand ceremony over protecting yourself if the marriage ends, or acting as if “forever” is guaranteed. I am also against any relationship structure that positions a man as the leader simply because he was born male and a religious text says so.

Which brings me to my next point: wedding ceremonies.

Heterosexual Weddings Make Me Cringe

In 2021, I wrote and directed a film called The Love You Want Exists that is currently streaming on KweliTV. It details the history of Western wedding ceremonies and how much we romanticize deeply misogynistic traditions.

I have attended five weddings and have been in two. I have been a bridesmaid in one, a flower girl, and a guest at three. The traditions we pretend are romantic are the equivalent of trying to rebrand a KKK rally.

Ceremony speaking.

At one wedding I attended, the pastor asked if I enjoyed the service, and I flat out said no. I explained how he focused on gender roles and a man being the leader rather than love itself. To my surprise, he listened. Years later, I saw him at a funeral and he told me he would never forget the girl who said, “No. I didn’t enjoy the service.”

Aside from the atrocious traditions themselves, I don’t like how weddings make people behave. We’ve convinced women that a ceremony where you are quite literally given to a man and expected to take on his name and identity is the happiest day of her life.

Do you know how people act when they think they are planning “the happiest day of their life”? The families. The friends. The feuds. The perfectionism. The expectations. All of it is frankly overwhelming and feels less like a celebration when you aren’t an audience member.

Now, onto the rituals of the traditional wedding ceremony:

The white dress.
The white wedding dress was never about romance. It symbolized virginity, sexual purity, and a woman’s value being tied to whether she had been “used.” It was a public signal that she was untouched and therefore worthy. Even now, when people insist it’s just tradition, that meaning is still baked in. The expectation that a bride wears white reinforces the idea that a woman’s body and sexual history are central to her worth on this day.

The veil.
The veil has also been interpreted as a stand-in for virginity, representing a barrier that is removed by the groom to signal access, and even when people claim it’s just tradition, the symbolism remains about purity, permission, and sexual transition, not mutual choice.

Bridesmaids.
Bridesmaids were not originally decorative. They existed to protect the bride, confuse evil spirits, and reinforce the idea that the bride was something valuable and vulnerable. Over time, that role shifted into women absorbing stress, cost, and emotional labor in the name of support. Bridesmaids are still expected to manage feelings, logistics, and conflict while treating it as an honor.

Groomsmen.
Groomsmen historically functioned as protection and enforcement. They were there to ensure the marriage happened and, in some traditions, to prevent the bride from backing out. While that history is rarely acknowledged now, the contrast remains. Groomsmen are rarely expected to perform the same level of emotional labor or sacrifice.

The garter toss.
The garter toss is one of the most overtly misogynistic traditions that still survives. It publicly sexualizes the bride, reduces her body to entertainment, and invites the room to participate. It comes from customs where guests believed possessing part of the bride’s clothing brought good luck. Today it’s framed as playful, but the underlying dynamic is still about access, entitlement, and ownership.

The vows.
In many Christian weddings, the vows still include language about submission on the bride’s part. Even when the word itself is softened or removed, the framework remains. The man is positioned as the leader. The woman is positioned as the one who follows. Her commitment is often framed around support or obedience, while his is framed around guidance or protection. Mutuality is implied, but hierarchy is preserved.

And then, immediately after the ceremony, the couple is announced as “Mr. and Mrs.” followed by the man’s full name. A woman’s identity is publicly folded into his. Her name disappears. His remains intact. It’s treated as celebratory, but it’s still a symbolic erasure.

People will say it’s just tradition. That it doesn’t mean anything anymore. But rituals don’t survive for centuries because they’re meaningless…they survive because they reinforce SOMETHING. In this case, it’s the idea that marriage requires a woman to be absorbed into a man’s identity in order to be legitimate.

Don’t get me wrong…

Weddings can be progressive. There doesn’t have to be a giving away. Or both partners’ parents can walk them in. A bride can choose her own dress color. Men can stand on the bride’s side. Women can stand on the groom’s. Vows can be rewritten. Names can be kept. Power can be shared.

All of that is possible.

And still, it often feels like we’re clinging to tradition for tradition’s sake. Repeating rituals we haven’t interrogated. Preserving symbols simply because they’re familiar. Calling something romantic because it’s old, not because it’s equitable.

At some point, it’s worth asking whether we’re honoring love, or just maintaining a script we’ve been too conditioned to question.

Wrapping it all up

The only way I’ll be in a wedding again is if I’m officiating it or if it’s a queer wedding. lol

Outside of that, count me in as an audience member, pending how traditional you are, because some traditions I simply cannot stomach anymore. I hope to never watch a woman be given away by her father to her husband while another man asks, “Who gives.” I hope to never sit quietly in a crowd while a woman vows to obey her husband until she dies.

I will absolutely continue asking blushing brides if they’ve signed a prenuptial agreement and recommending lawyers. I will continue asking my friends why they’re so eager to give up their names and legacies. I will flat out ask what the actual benefit is of legally binding yourself to this person, rather than squealing over the size of a ring that once represented ownership.

I want to see more personality. Less tradition for tradition’s sake. HOPEFULLY I never witness a veil again.

I love love. But I recognize marriage for what it is: an institution. I don’t take it lightly, especially when it comes to the women I care about.

As for me, if I ever choose to legally bind myself to someone, I’m far more likely to elope and not tell a soul. I’ve never felt the need to put my romantic life on display. I don’t need witnesses, approval, or spectacle to validate a decision that would be deeply personal. That feels far more honest to me than any aisle, altar, or audience ever could.