Why it's Okay to Get Married Later in Life or Not at All

BY KCY

I never thought I’d get married. All my life, my focus was on school. My daydreams weren’t filled with a white dress but instead, were filled with a long white coat. I didn’t imagine a veil. It was a stethoscope. I never saw myself living in a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and 2.0 kids and a Labrador retriever. Instead, I imagined myself living in a big city in a one-bedroom apartment, working nonstop, saving the world and eating out of take out containers. I dreamed of medical trips to countries in Africa, Asia, South America. Don’t get me wrong. There’s nothing wrong with picket fences, minivans or Labrador retrievers. In fact, I love Labrador retrievers. I just never saw any of those things in my future.

So, it was no surprise to anyone, including me, when I found myself still single and working, living in a one-bedroom apartment at thirty-years old. And that was okay with me. I’d had a chance to get married in my late twenties, but I’d broken it off with the guy. Nothing was wrong with him or even our relationship. I just wasn’t ready to get married.

When you’re thirty years old, people begin asking you why you’re still single. Don’t you want children? Can’t you hear your biological clock ticking? And people did that to me. But it didn’t bother me.

I was living my best life. My social calendar was filled. I was heavily involved in the triathlon scene, training for an Ironman. I was working as a doctor in the hospital, making a difference. Sometimes even saving lives. And I was traveling when I could. Hawaii, Thailand, South Africa, Belize, to name a few places.

While some of my friends from school were fighting with their spouse over finances, in-laws, dirty diapers and laundry, I was having the time of my life. I didn’t have to answer to anyone. I was doing me. I was getting to know me. I was romancing myself. I was learning to love myself.

Eventually, I ended up getting married and having that 2.0 children in my late thirties. By then, I’d established myself in my career, internet dated, triathlon dated, hiked Machu Pichu, surfed in Costa Rica and safaried in Tanzania. I’d eaten peanut butter sandwiches for dinner and cold pizza in the morning. I’d been free of responsibility, free to learn about myself and to love myself. These experiences made me a better wife and mother because I was able to learn to love myself before giving love to others.

Our society tends to frown upon living this way. Especially for women. Marriage is a goal to be achieved as quickly as possible. Our mothering instinct is supposed to kick in as soon as we menstruate, and if it doesn’t, then something is wrong with us. (Incidentally, my mothering instinct didn’t even kick in after I gave birth to my first child.) If a woman chooses a different path, she is wasting her twenties and thirties doing “nothing” when she could be married with that perfect family in the suburbs.

Well, I challenge that idea. There’s no right way to live your life, no set path you must follow, no formula for proven success. So go and romance yourself, and live your authentic life above the noise of the haters.