#115: Why I’m not getting married

(or botox.)

Good morning!

Here today with a banger of a Dear Baby, topic-wise: marriage, plastic surgery, existential rudderlessness. Thanks for sending in such great questions. First up, someone asked me to explain my and Avi’s decision to not get married, which I’ve never put to words before (it was surprisingly helpful to write). Second up, a questioner’s friend got a secret facelift, which is making the questioner feel weird and judgmental. Was excited about this one because, aside from being generally relevant to my life in New York and online, the book I’m reading right now has given me a lot to think about vis-a-vis aging. And finally, a lost soul moved across the world to get a graduate degree and is now, eight months in, doubting everything. We need to come together for her in this critical moment!!

On Tuesday for Dear Danny, some questions on the docket include influencing how your partner dresses, what nudity on TV achieves, good friends who make bad art, whether monogamy is selfish, and more! Episode drops Tuesday as always. (Call in with your own questions @ 802-404-BABY.)

Okay let’s get started.

1. On (not) getting married

“Dear Baby, I’d LOVE to hear your deep analysis on the topic of marriage. I think (?) I feel similarly to you and Avi but, again, please share your thoughts. I don't currently want to get married—firstly, because I don't know what marriage means to me and I'm super stubborn, so I don't want to do something just because it seems like the next thing to do or step to take. Secondly, because I definitely don't want a traditional wedding for the standard reasons (weddings are super capitalistic, a terrible use of funds, and feel quite performative, etc). For some context, my partner and I have been together for almost 10 years and are very committed to being with each other in the future but just feel so ehh about marriage, like, what's the point?! I'm 28 and most of our friends are getting engaged now to folks that they've known only 2 or 3 years, which feels so crazy but also mostly like a sign that we're getting older. How do you think about marriage whilst watching your peers and friends get married? I pride myself in living by my values and being quite independent/thoughtful in my decisions, but I still feel a bit weird like no one is going to celebrate us or recognize that we're in a serious relationship without us having a traditional engagement > wedding > marriage pipeline.” 

I’m not sure if I’m ready to write a deep analysis on marriage, but I’m happy to expand on my own feelings about marriage and current decision to forgo it, including how it’s felt to do that while most (all?) of my friends and family feel differently. Aside from a few fraudulent dismissals of traditional life when I was very young and afraid of being seen as a “normal girl,” I actually didn’t feel resistance about getting married until the last few years. Earlier in my relationship with Avi (we met in 2016), I assumed we would get married. I think it was some time in 2020 that we officially entertained the idea of skipping that step, and I was surprised by how little it bothered me. It did take some getting used to, but with time it seemed telling to me that it didn’t feel like a huge loss. Neither did it feel like a statement about our commitment to each other, which has only become more grounded and honest over the years.

As far as convictions go, this one’s still developing, so I don’t consider it final. I trust that I’ll continue to see things differently as time goes on, I’m just not sure how yet. Currently though, like you, our reasons are a mix of political and personal. Speaking for myself, my suspicion of the institution of marriage dovetailed with my suspicion of basically every American institution. It became impossible for me to critique the corrupting influences of consumerism, social conditioning, and postmodern alienation in other aspects of American life (school, work, government, art, culture) without also applying them to marriage and the way we socially organize around it. It goes without saying that marriage has been used as a tool to control, isolate, and disempower women (and exclude non-straight people) for centuries. While it’s certainly our right to “reclaim” the tradition and apply more modern aims, I can’t help but see this as an uninspired solution. I’m just not convinced that alternative ways of organizing and committing to each other have been adequately explored. And the fact that marriage begets certain material benefits like tax breaks or hospital visitation seems more like a problem than a solution to me—who do those policies leave out? Currently, I’m willing (and able) to forgo them on principle.

On a more personal level, committing to someone by contract doesn’t speak to me. While I know some people enjoy the finality and security of a ceremony and document, I find it just as meaningful that Avi and I choose to be together every day, even when the circumstances of our lives pull us apart, even when technically we could break up without much logistical hassle. We commit to each other over and over. That’s profound to me. I don’t need to feel tied down or contractually obligated to feel safe with him. (For the record, I also don’t think it’s immoral or a failure for relationships to end.) If people don’t respect our relationship because we’re unmarried, or underestimate its seriousness, that’s fine. I’m not interested in getting married for other people. I’d rather be part of changing that culture of judgment than ceding to it. Of course, not everyone is in the position to do that—a black friend of mine recently told me she didn’t feel comfortable skipping marriage because of the treatment her future kids might receive, and that made total sense to me. It also underlined to me why things need to change.

Even though the decision is relatively easy for us, it does involve some sacrifice. Avi’s community back home takes marriage and weddings seriously, and it’s not easy knowing that we may be letting some of those people down. Although my parents have accepted (and even support) me and Avi not getting married—an expression of trust that means a lot to me—I’m sure there’s still sadness there. And there is for me too! Listening to the parents’ speeches at a recent wedding I attended reminded me of the speeches I’d never hear. But I’m determined to find other ways to bring both of our families and friends into our lives in ways that feels enduring, reciprocal, and celebratory. Weddings are like six hours! Those connections have to be maintained in the long-term, and there’s no reason we can’t do that because we skipped throwing a party. I appreciate the sweetness of traditions, and hope to create new ones.

Also: I just don’t want to plan a wedding. It doesn’t feel like a good use of our time or money. Even if I had less suspicion around the institution and more belief around what it could do for my relationship, I take issue with the capitalist enterprise surrounding it. Even the non-traditional approaches seem to have taken on a competitive, individualist edge (who can be the most non-traditional?). I feel palpable relief at the thought of bowing out and simply living my life as it naturally unfolds. I wonder if more people—single people, partnered people, and anyone in-between or beyond—could feel that relief too: that their entire life didn’t have to build up to this one thing. That they could explore commitments and communities outside the bounds of a singular life-long promise, mediated by the government, that many don’t ultimately take that seriously. This doesn’t mean I don’t fully support my friends who get married and genuinely love attending their weddings (I do and I cry), but right now I’m more excited about the possibilities of carving a different path.

2. On friends getting work done

“I think my friend got a facelift and is afraid to tell me. She’s right that I would judge her silently, but I wouldn’t be mean about it. Am I wrong to be annoyed at people who get work done? I just can’t help feeling that it feeds into an endless cycle of making (mostly women) feel not good enough. Constantly comparing etc etc.”