When I became engaged at the age of 24 I was pretty terrified about telling my mum and dad; not least because they’d only met my future husband once, but also as I still felt like their little girl.
I was the first of my friends to even consider tying the knot and the reaction of our reception venue manager said it all: “Who are you enquiring for—surely you’re very young to be getting married?”.
However, when the truth was eased out, with a little help from an unadvisable quantity of Dutch courage, my parents were actually pretty thrilled with the idea. I don’t think I’d ever considered the fact that they were wed at around the same age, and there was a time not so many decades past when I would have been considered a hopeless spinster if I hadn’t settled down by the age of 26.
Tying the knot
But, of course, the cultural context has changed markedly over the past 50 years. Many couples now live together for years before tying the knot—if they decide to at all. I had previously lived with an ex-boyfriend for over two years and no one asked when we were going to get married. So for those who do take the plunge, there is often little point putting toasters or crockery on the wedding lists unless they want to upgrade. With everyday life very much tried-and-tested by the time they walk down the aisle, the focus for newly-weds has become more about taking a step out of the routine than stocking up on vacuum cleaners.
So with a new set of social norms and values and fewer bureaucratic or financial benefits to being married—although certain politicians are currently considering bringing in the latter— it becomes harder to argue the case for ‘why’. But for me it is much more difficult to argue the case for ‘why not’. Waiting my turn outside the registrar’s office for our ‘notice of marriage’ interview recently, I became twitchy about what was taking the other half so long. What were they asking him in there? Surely it must be some sort of test . . . As it turned out, their main concerns lay with archaic traditions—finding out our fathers’ occupations and making sure we weren’t related—but by the time I entered the office I had already worked out a job-interview-style pitch for why I wanted to get married.
Old-fashioned
And though I would probably have considered being a 20-something wife old fashioned, and therefore not for me, five years ago, the very reasons I came up with can be read as just that. I want our partnership to be official—as concrete to the outside world as we know it is inside. I want us to become to each other what is so important to us both—family. And I want to make a commitment that lets my husband know that I will be by, and on, his side forever. No matter how cautious and level-headed I am or how much I actively try to talk myself out of it just to be sure, I can’t. And that’s how I know that being a 20-something wife is for me after all.
Jo-ann Hodgson is a Brighton-based journalist, and her v pretty blog is here.
You accurately describe attitudes to marriage in British culture nowadays. We might think the same is true across the developed world, (I certainly did) but it’s not the case. I recently moved to Hong Kong – an ultramodern city and society – yet one of the first things I was asked by my chinese boss when I said I was living with my boyfriend was ”any wedding plans?” – here in Asia, it seems getting married before 30 is the greatest aspiration of the average 20something girl.
Great article, Jo. I got married in my 30s and people still asked why I was doing it as though it was some crazy archaic thing, but you’ve pretty much summed up all the reasons. Being a couple was fine but we wanted more than that, it was like supersizing the relationship, making it Relationship Plus.
Just wait till after you’ve said your vows though, all anyone will say to you for months is “so are you pregnant yet?”