11 Women Explain Why They Would Never Want To Get Married
Many young girls imagine marrying their ideal mate in a magical wedding. In addition, women frequently receive a lot of messages from society telling them that living a single life isn’t meaningful or gratifying. Alternatively, consider these 11 incredibly happy ladies who have never married.
1. A 28-year-old Elisa has never been married.
Elisa admits that even though she came dangerously close to marriage, “the idea of being tied down” was a hard idea for her to embrace. “It seems incomprehensible to me to stay with one person forever, even in those circumstances.” She gave an explanation. “But for those who choose to honor it, I completely respect the idea of marriage; for me, it just seems like a title and joke.”
Elise also gives another explanation for her decision to lead this lifestyle. The price of a wedding, she says, “seems so frivolous.”
2. Beth Margaret, Who Was Also Single
As Beth puts it, “marriage is just a facade,” adding that there is no real substance to the union—it’s just about maintaining appearances. According to her, relationship expectations frequently convey the idea that “your romantic relationship is your most important one, and without it, you’re incomplete.”
3. A 59-year-old Kelly adores being on her own
“I’ve been traveling full-time for the past nine years. I take care of people’s pets while they are on vacation by housesitting (I even published a book on it!). I do this for free in someone else’s house. I’ve lived in residences in Kuala Lumpur, Hanoi, Osaka, Berlin, Amsterdam, London, Gibraltar, and all throughout Africa. She divulges. It’s a fantastic lifestyle, but it would be really challenging if I were married. I’ve never been married and I don’t intend to stop traveling the world alone right now.
4. Hazel Is Dedicated to Her Partner
“My girlfriend and I don’t want to be married, even if we can (finally!) get married. We both think that we don’t need a piece of paper to tell us that we’re devoted to one another. Hazel divulges. Furthermore, we would rather to use the money we would have spent on a celebration for anything else!
5. Christine Takes Her Money Into Account
“I would have to inherit my partner’s debt if we were to get married. Thank you not at all. We should keep our finances entirely apart, please.
6. Contentment Is a Delusion
“I find married individuals to be miserable, which is why I don’t want to be married. Though some are better at hiding it than others, practically every married couple I’ve ever met appears unhappy. As stated by mattcleary85.
7. No Agreements
“I don’t want to get married because in the most significant relationships in my life, there is never a need for a certification or contract to guarantee the continuation of the relationship, or to prove to the other person my feelings and my willingness to support them at all times—these are just understood.” Welsh_Milly shares.
8. It’s Still Possible to Feel Alone
A lot of people say they don’t feel comfortable expressing their wants, boundaries, or problems in their relationship. Many feel alone or unheard as a result. Consequently, it may be harder to deal with those emotions if you are depressed. “I’ve had anxiety and depression for a long time, and the last thing I want for myself is to be with someone, even if I don’t have strong feelings for them, simply to feel less alone or deserving. To feel less alone, I would prefer to be alone than to get married. Celeste Monet Dubois says.
9. Nina has never tied the knot
Nina describes herself as “Christian and of Nigerian descent,” two very patriarchal identities. She continued, “This is to the point of overshadowing whatever other amazing feats she may have achieved beforehand or even go on to do afterwards,” as a result of witnessing many of her female role models “forfeit their dreams” in addition to other freedoms.
Therefore, to paraphrase Jessica Knoll, the best-selling author of The Luckiest Girl Alive, “My fairy tale ending has always involved a pantsuit, not a wedding dress. I say this because I was a little girl.” To be successful means to perform well enough to gain freedom and, eventually, independence. She ends.
10. Angela Has Also Never Got Married
“I have no desire to get married. Since I was an only child growing up, I have never truly felt the need or want for a spouse. says Angela. “I’ve experienced tragedies that Adele could never sing about and relationships that rival your favorite romance book, but at the end of the day, I’m always happiest when I’m alone myself. Although I know many nomad couples, I am a digital nomad as well, and I genuinely believe that having a partner would just complicate things.
11. Steer clear of heartache
Heartbreak and disappointment result from the unfortunate fact that many marriages end in divorce. Evie explains why she doesn’t want to be married: “I don’t want to go through that or put anyone else through it. When I was a child, I saw marriages that I thought would last forever break and ruin.”
Joyfully Single
There are several typical reasons why women have never married, despite society’s constant messages that they should aim to be devoted and caring partners, have children, and be subservient, working extra hours to please those around them. The most popular ones are frivolous spending, savoring independence, and choosing nontraditional lifestyles like polyamory. On the other hand, Psychology Today points out that even though more individuals are opting out of marriage, they are not alone in their decision. Rather, “cohabitation has emerged as a popular substitute.” It follows that it is not surprising that 42% of American adults in 2017 acknowledged to not living with a partner or spouse, a 3% increase from 2007. This trend also appears to be continuing.
A Family Forgot Their Wealthy Grandpa at a Gas Station on His Birthday — The Next Day, His Lawyer Called Them
On his 73rd birthday, Lennox treated his family to a lavish beach trip, only to be ignored, dismissed, and forgotten — literally! They left him at a gas station on the drive home. But the family learned the cost of their callous behavior when Lennox’s lawyer called them the next day.
I turned 73 last Tuesday. Most men my age would be proud. I’d transformed my grandfather’s humble construction company into a sprawling empire that stretched across three states.
A man seated alone at a dining table | Source: Midjourney
But what good was any of it when I sat alone at my mahogany dining table, staring at a cake with no one to share it?
I had called my son Gregory, my daughter Caroline, their spouses, and all five of my grandchildren to invite them to celebrate my birthday.
All of them had answered with excuses; they were too busy to spend one evening with me.
A man speaking on his phone | Source: Midjourney
I sat in my study later that night, nursing a glass of scotch, when an idea struck me.
Money. It had always been the one thing that got their attention. The one thing that made their schedules “magically open up,” as my late wife Helen used to say.
So I rented the most luxurious tour bus available and planned a weeklong trip to the coast. All expenses paid.
Seating inside a luxury tour bus | Source: Pexels
Then I sent out new invites to my family, asking them to join me for the “real birthday celebration.”
The responses were predictably enthusiastic, now that they were getting more than a slice of cake and a few hours with an old man out of it.
When the day arrived, all 15 of them showed up with piles of luggage and wide smiles.
People carrying bags | Source: Pexels
My great-granddaughter Zoe squealed when she saw the tour bus and instantly started taking selfies in front of it.
I watched them board, chattering and laughing. My family… my legacy. I smiled to myself as I climbed aboard last. Maybe this was how we’d finally connect.
The countryside rolled by in waves of gold and green while I sat in the back, watching them all.
A road cutting through the country | Source: Pexels
Gregory played cards with his boys. Caroline sipped wine with her daughter-in-law. The youngest kids bounced between seats, high on sugar and excitement.
No one sat with me. Not at any point during the many hours it took to reach our destination.
The coast was beautiful, I’ll give it that. Blue waves crashing against rocky shores, and seagulls wheeling overhead.
A road on the coast | Source: Pexels
I paid for a boat tour on our first day, but when I joined my family in the hotel lobby, Gregory frowned at me.
“Don’t you think you’re a little old to be going on a boat trip, Dad? Think about your health. What if you had another heart attack?”
“I—”
“Greg’s right, Dad.” Caroline cut me off. “It’s best if you stay here.”
A woman smiling at someone | Source: Pexels
And that was the pattern for the entire week.
I’d organized spa treatments, fishing excursions, surfing lessons, you name it. But I didn’t get to enjoy any of it. Or spend any time with my family.
Oh, they were careful to wrap their excuses in concern for my health, but Zoe’s obsession with social media betrayed them all.
A young teen girl staring at her cell phone | Source: Pexels
I was on my way to the beach (by myself) when I spotted Zoe in the garden just outside the hotel entrance, phone held out in front of her.
I started walking toward her but froze when I got close enough to overhear what she was saying.
“… enjoying the beach with my fam! We were even kind enough to bring my great-grandpa along, although my mom and grandma say he can’t do much because of his health issues. At least he can chill by the pool!”
A young teen girl using her cell phone | Source: Pexels
Zoe is only 12 and might be excused for spouting nonsense, but it was the narrative beneath her words that broke me; the things her mother and Caroline had told her.
I saw the truth now. I’d thought I was investing in a chance to bring my family together when I paid for this trip, but they just saw me as useless baggage they were forced to drag along.
I went down to the beach and stayed there, watching the families who actually cared about each other building sandcastles and laughing together until the stars came out.
Starry sky over a beach | Source: Pexels
The week passed quickly.
Too quickly for them, apparently. The complaints started before we even loaded the bus for the return trip.
“God, this drive is going to be brutal,” Caroline muttered, sunglasses perched on her head.
A woman staring at something | Source: Pexels
“I don’t know why Grandpa didn’t just rent a private jet,” her eldest son said, loud enough for everyone to hear.
Loud enough for me to hear.
Two hours into the journey home, I felt a tightness in my chest.
A distressed man | Source: Midjourney
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead.
It wasn’t a heart attack — I’d had one of those before and knew the difference. This was just age and stress and heartache making themselves known.
“Can we pull over?” I asked, my voice weaker than I intended. “I need a minute.”
A man with his hands pressed together | Source: Pexels
Gregory looked up from his laptop, irritated. “We just stopped an hour ago.”
“You can’t wait 30 more minutes?” Caroline snapped. “There’s a rest area up ahead.”
I pressed a hand to my stomach. “I just need a moment to breathe.”
Close up of a man’s face | Source: Pexels
My son-in-law, James, sighed dramatically and signaled the driver.
The bus pulled into a grimy gas station, all buzzing florescent lights and faded advertisements.
“Make it quick, Dad,” Gregory said, not looking up from his screen.
A man typing on a laptop | Source: Pexels
Gone was the concern for my health that they’d pulled out like red cards at a soccer match every time I tried to join in on the holiday excursions.
I shuffled inside the gas station restroom and splashed water on my face. The man who looked back at me in the mirror seemed suddenly smaller than I remembered.
When I walked back outside, blinking in the harsh sunlight, the parking lot was empty. The bus was gone.
A gas station | Source: Pexels
I stood there, my blazer suddenly insufficient against the wind that picked up. No phone. No wallet. Nothing but the clothes on my back and the watch on my wrist.
“You okay, sir?” A young voice broke through my shock.
A girl stood in the gas station doorway, maybe 19, her name tag reading “Marlee.”
“I think I’ve been… forgotten,” I said.
A startled-looking man | Source: Midjourney
She frowned, looking around the empty lot. “Someone just left you here?”
“My family,” I said, and the words felt like glass in my throat.
“That’s messed up,” she said simply. Then she disappeared inside, returning moments later with a foil-wrapped package. “Microwave burrito. It’s not much, but you look like you could use something.”
A burrito | Source: Pexels
I took it, surprised by the kindness of the gesture. “Thank you.”
Marlee’s shift ended two hours later. During that time, no one called, and no one came back for me.
“Look, I can’t just leave you here,” she said. “My apartment’s not far…”
So, I went home with Marlee to an apartment smaller than my bedroom.
An apartment building | Source: Pexels
She made soup from a can and loaned me thick wool socks when she noticed me rubbing my feet.
“My brother’s room is yours tonight,” she said, showing me to a small bedroom with posters of bands I didn’t recognize. “We’ll figure this out in the morning.”
I lay awake that night, staring at the ceiling.
A man lying in a bed | Source: Pexels
Not once had Marlee asked who I was beyond my name. Not once had she questioned whether helping me would benefit her in any way.
She saw an old man in need and extended her hand. Simple as that.
When morning came, I borrowed Marlee’s cellphone and made one call — to my lawyer. It was time to teach my family a lesson.
A man making a phone call | Source: Pexels
I was home by mid-morning, and my family started arriving by noon, their faces twisted with panic and indignation.
“Dad, there’s been a terrible misunderstanding,” Gregory started, standing in my foyer like he owned the place.
“We went back for you!” Caroline insisted, though we both knew it was a lie.
A woman speaking to someone | Source: Pexels
I let them talk themselves out. Let them rage and plead and make promises we all knew they wouldn’t keep.
When they finally fell silent, I opened the front door.
Marlee stood on the porch, a plate of homemade cookies in her hands. I placed a gentle hand on Marlee’s shoulder as she entered, confusion evident on her face as she took in the scene.
A confused woman | Source: Pexels
“This,” I said, calm as still water, “is Marlee. She didn’t know who I was. She didn’t know what I had. But she saved me, took care of me, and reminded me what it means to be seen.”
My family stared, uncomprehending.
“I’m taking back all the businesses, cars, houses, and every other gift I’ve ever given you all,” I continued, watching the realization dawn on their faces. “Everything you thought was yours will now belong to her.”
A man pointing his finger | Source: Pexels
“You can’t be serious,” Caroline whispered, her perfectly manicured hand pressed to her throat.
“You left me at a gas station without a backward glance. And I finally saw you all clearly.”
Marlee looked between us all, stunned. “Lennox, I don’t understand—”
“You will,” I said gently. “But unlike them, you never have to worry about what it means to be family. You already know.”
An emotional man | Source: Pexels
They left in a storm of threats and tears. But I felt lighter than I had in decades. Marlee stayed, confused but kind as ever.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I told her as we sat in my study later. “The money and properties are yours, regardless. But I hope you’ll let an old man show you the ropes.”
She smiled then, and it reminded me so much of Helen that my heart squeezed in my chest.
A smiling woman | Source: Pexels
“I think,” she said carefully, “that we could both use a friend.”
And for the first time in longer than I could remember, I didn’t feel forgotten at all.
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