Marriage Isn't a Trophy

To my unmarried friends. 

Especially those of you who are LDS. 

Because #mormonculture.

And to my married friends who love their unmarried friends.

#pleasedontbedeadtome

I've been thinking some thoughts about how we talk about marriage and wanted to share some insights.

First, I'm going to let you in on a secret: 

I thought I would be married by age 25. 

Heck, if we're completely honest, I thought I would have gotten married within a year of coming home from my mission, which would have been by age 22. 

Because as a teenager, most all of my LDS female leaders and role models had gotten married in their late-teens or early 20s. They talked about getting married like it was the easiest thing. 

"Well he came home from his mission and thought I was cute and I thought he was cute so we decided to get married!"

It hasn't been that easy for me.

I'm 25 and not married. 

This is okay.

This doesn't make me less talented, desirable, successful, or beautiful as a human being. 

I have learned so much from the relationships I've been in and the time I've had being alone with myself and exploring what kind of person I am and want to become.

I was talking to another single friend a few weeks ago about some of my frustrations with the way we (the royal Mormon we) see marriage--temple marriage to be more specific--as the ultimate happily ever after. 

Like if you find another faithful LDS member and get hitched in the temple then all of your sorrows are over because you did it! You did the marriage thing so that completes the life checklist and we won't talk as much about everything after that because marriage is both the end and beginning of your life so way to go.

As I was ranting (read: whining) about this, my very wise, talented, and beautiful friend said that people need to stop talking about marriage like it's an achievement. 

Because achievements have specific how-to steps. 

Like it's an achievement to graduate college

Step 1. Apply to colleges and get accepted.

Step 2. Go to college. 

Step 3. Take and pass classes requisite for a degree.

Step 4. Wear a funny hat and robe and receive a fancy-looking piece of paper that is a more official, grown-up way of giving you a gold star for your work and commitment.

Things like jobs, losing weight, getting stronger, traveling, or learning how to dance are achievements, things you could rightfully (though perhaps a little narcissistically) carry a little trophy around for that says something like I worked hard and did a thing. 

But how to get married? 

There is no how-to formula that works for everyone. 

Something like burn more calories than you consume and you're bound to meet someone you'll fall in love with and who will love you too! 

It doesn't apply here. Sure, take care of yourself, work on yourself, love yourself, but that doesn't guarantee you'll get married. 

There are so many factors that go into marriage. Abstract concepts like serendipity that are beyond your control.

Some people find a spouse sooner than others.

Some only have to date one human to know they want to marry him/her.

Some have to date a lot of people.

Like a lot.

Some don't have opportunities to date. 

Like none.

Some learn quickly how to work with someone else. 

Some aren't ready yet.

Some don't fall in love very easily.

Some wait too long for perfection.

Some settle too soon. 

Some are terrified. 

Some date for a long time.

Some date for a short time.

Some just do it. 

Some won't.

Regardless of where you're at, your worth is not based on your marital status. 

Plenty of losers get married and plenty of goddesses don't. 

Sometimes it's not about you.

Another wonderfully insightful friend told me about the magical metaphor of the donut--that we all feel like we have a hole and are missing someone/something, but as it turns out, we are still a whole donut. Our holes don't make us any less whole and yeah, most of us are looking for another donut to go through life with, but that's not a guarantee for everyone and we are still a delicious donut by ourselves.

I'm not better than married people because I'm single.

Married people aren't better than I am because they're married. 

Being single doesn't define me.

Everyone has a different life path and some of us are alone longer than others. Some end up alone again after being married and it's not the end of their story either. 

It's not something that makes them less whole. 

Marriage is not the end, not the "happily every after" we all seek, but it's also not a beginning, not the "once upon a time" when our life begins. 

If I get married, which I hope I do, I want it to be part of the wonderful middle of my life. 

Most people don't want to be alone. 

We crave companionship and love and acceptance and a happily ever after. 

Everyone deserves to be madly in love and to be loved passionately. 

.e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e.

Because life isn't fair, we won't all get that though. We can't demand a spouse, we can't force someone to love us or force ourselves to love someone else. Most of us are trying in whatever way we can to work towards that but since we have yet to find the perfect formula, things might be beyond our control.

So married friends, when you're talking to your single friends, don't treat us as less because we aren't married or don't have kids. Ask us about our education, our jobs, our adventures. We're working on ourselves and are often very developed individuals and looking for joy in our journey.

Treating myself to a ring because someone ought to.

Don't you dare tell us we're living less-fulfilling lives, that we are worth less, that our days are miserable compared to what we could have if only we were married, that marriage is the ultimate happily ever after and everything else we've known was just a shadow and now it's real life. 

Because this is our life.

And it's real to us. 

And I love my life. 

We're looking for love. We're not too picky. We're not too desperate. 

We just want it to be right. 

And we'd rather it be right than marry just to get a trophy.

To my unmarried friends,

I watch you. I share a sense of community with you no matter where you are or how often we talk. And it makes me happy to see you living your best life. It reminds me that we're all whole donuts even if we have holes and that's okay.