The Autonomy of Monogamy

why I'm getting married

It was a sun-baked August morning in Rhode Island when I woke up with a diamond on my finger. 

Like always, the windows of the beach house stayed open throughout the night. In the morning, a Northeastern breeze slid off the ocean and whispered through the curtains: salty, coastal, fresh as an oyster. As I opened my eyes, a white-hot shard of sunlight caught the diamond on my left hand, throwing a million sparks against the ceiling. I turned my hand from side to side, watching in awe as the light danced.

I’m going to be a wife.

Marriage is one of the most unnatural decisions a human can make. It’s a continuous act of self-denial in our continuous search for self-fulfillment. For the rest of my life, I’m choosing to come second. Life no longer consists of just me. Every thought, every word, every action now prioritizes another person. Like I said. Unnatural. So unnatural, in fact, that I’m a firm believer not everyone should get married (and that’s okay).

Here’s why I said yes.

“And the two shall become one flesh.” Genesis 2:24

“Becoming one flesh” has always sounded romantic to me; but I never realized some find it terrifying. I recently had a friend tell me: “I’m afraid to get married because I don’t want to lose my autonomy.” And it’s a valid point.

The mainstream narrative surrounding marriage is one of constraints and imprisonment, of succumbing to a life of shackled commitment that suppresses “who you truly are.” The thing is, it’s just not the truth. “Becoming one flesh” may mean the end of life as I know it, but it’s the beginning of something even better. Relationships are like gazing into clear, bottomless pools of water. Look hard enough and you’ll meet the eyes of your own reflection. Stare into the soul of someone else long enough, and you’ll fall deeper into the abyss of yourself. The more you love the person in front of you, the more you understand yourself.

Pope John Paul II said it well: “Man cannot live without love. He remains a being that is incomprehensible for himself.” 

We were created by Love, from Love, for Love — and the highest form of love (marriage) calls us to be more of ourselves, not less. I’ve been in relationships that made me doubt everything about myself. I had one boyfriend who put me on such a pedestal that the person he thought he was in love with wasn’t even real. I had another boyfriend who wanted me to be me, just less. But Jack is excited about who I am now and who I’ll be twenty years in the future.

It is rare for people to come into themselves if no one is excited and curious about their core, their potential. We need someone who gives us space to unfold. —Henrik Karlsson 

Someone who truly loves you will help you “come into yourself.” I saw that in Jack from the moment I met him. He gives me space to be me and become even more. Now, don’t misunderstand me — I’m not saying the goal of getting married is to discover my own self-worth. This is what Timothy Keller deems “The Apocalyptic Romance”: 

Two soul-sucking vacuums cannot find significance and meaning in one another.

Marriage isn’t a personal growth hack designed to fuel my journey to self-actualization; but it won’t strip me of my unique self, either. It is something quieter. Stronger. Like bedrock. A union of two souls. It encourages, supports, challenges, forgives, and most importantly, makes me more of who I am, not less. Marriage supports union and uniqueness.

Hula Hoop Theory

My fiancé’s mother is a therapist. She once told me about Hula Hoop Theory (I don’t think it’s called this in the professional world, but I like the phrase and will continue to use it accordingly). 

Imagine you have a hula hoop around your emotions. No matter what chaos is erupting around you, you’re in full control of your hula hoop. You can empathize with others, but you don’t let another person dictate what happens in your hula hoop. Not even your spouse. 

Marriage isn’t about giving up my hula hoop; it’s about relentlessly putting the other person’s hula hoop first. My husband and I can become “one flesh” without becoming emotionally unhinged soul-sucking vacuums. Rather than welding myself to Jack until we melt together and become the same person — same hobbies, same emotions, same elaborate breakfast routine — we need to learn how to move through life together as one unit, stronger together than we are apart.

This act of prioritizing the needs of someone else, of recommitting to commit with every sunrise, is the beginning of something much more meaningful than autonomy.

To be fully known and fully loved

My base desire (and the base desire of collective humanity) isn’t to be fully known or fully loved; it’s to be fully known and fully loved. To have someone step into the ugliest parts of myself and say, “Yup, I’m staying.” Deep down, this is what we all crave. To be chosen. To be fully ourselves and have it be enough. 

In marriage, I don’t want Jack and I to feel constricted by the shackles of commitment; I want us to feel liberated in unconditional love. And I know that that’s possible. That’s the purpose of marriage, after all. When done right, marriage mirrors our relationship with Christ — and there’s nothing more liberating than that. Nothing is more powerful, more loving, more graceful, more freeing than a healthy marriage. To know and be known. To love and be loved. And that’s why, every morning for the rest of my life, I’ll wake up with this diamond on my finger.