Unlearning the Pedestal: Love Beyond the Marriage Myth

I’ve been “married” twice.

And to be unabashedly honest?

They were the worst relationships of my life.

That’s not a tragic confession.

That’s a truth I’ve earned the right to say—without shame.

Without pretending they were anything more than reflections of the scripts I was trying to survive.

We live in a culture that pedestalizes marriage—especially heteronormative, monogamous marriage—as the highest form of love, success, security, and worth.

But let’s be real:

Marriage doesn’t equal passion.

Marriage doesn’t equal emotional safety.

Marriage doesn’t equal commitment.

It’s a container.

And like any container, it’s only as safe, expansive, and alive as the people co-creating it.

Why They Were the Worst

When I say those marriages were the worst relationships of my life, I’m not speaking from bitterness.

I’m speaking from hindsight—the kind that only comes after doing the work.

At the time, I was operating on autopilot.

Deep in survival mode.

Running old scripts shaped by unhealed pain and patriarchal conditioning.

I didn’t know what a conscious relationship required—because I hadn’t yet built one with myself.

I was focused on survival and safety, not alignment and expansion.

And to be clear:

I’m not against marriage. It has a role. It can be sacred.

But let’s not confuse a title with trust.

Let’s not confuse a contract with connection.

Let’s not confuse a structure with the substance it’s meant to hold.

The Fantasy Almost Killed Me

I grew up with codependency, enmeshment, and a deep desire to be chosen—

Because I thought being chosen would finally make me safe.

But chasing the fantasy of “forever love” led me straight into self-abandonment.

Into over-performing. Under-receiving.

Silencing my own needs to keep the illusion alive.

I wasn’t in love.

I was in survival.

And survival in a pretty dress still isn’t love.

The Lie We Were Told

As women, we’re conditioned—covertly and overtly—to believe that our worth culminates in being chosen.

That marriage is the gold star on the report card of femininity.

That anything less—a deep partnership without a ring, a life built on freedom, or gasp choosing yourself—is somehow incomplete.

We’re taught to strive for love that validates us, instead of love that liberates us.

To measure our value by proximity to a man’s commitment.

And when that commitment doesn’t come—or doesn’t feel like we thought it would—

The shame creeps in.

The desperation.

The hollowing of spirit.

But here’s the thing:

That narrative isn’t romantic.

It’s oppressive.

It keeps women small.

Dependent.

Willing to tolerate harm in exchange for perceived security.

And it’s time to burn it to the ground.

Let’s Say It Boldly: Marriage Is Not the Goal

I don’t care how taboo it sounds.

Marriage is not the goal.

Wholeness is.

I want deep partnership.

I want pleasure, devotion, accountability, and intimacy that makes me exhale.

But I no longer crave a title to make me feel safe.

Or a contract to make me feel seen.

That’s work I’ve done within myself.

And I bring that version of me to the table now.

What Real Commitment Looks Like

It’s not about obligation.

It’s not about becoming one fused identity.

A healthy relationship is not “you and me combined.”

It’s you, me, and the third entity we intentionally co-create.

A living, breathing dynamic that requires care, clarity, and mutual devotion.

Real commitment is this:

Choosing each other on purpose.

Being honest—even when it’s uncomfortable.

Creating a relationship where each person gets to grow, evolve, and stay whole—without the threat of disconnection.

Real love leaves room for the “I” inside the “we.”

Security doesn’t come from vows.

It comes from the conscious decision to show up in truth.

To be seen and to see, fully.

To say yes, not because you have to—but because you want to.

Security Isn’t Given—It’s Grown

Let’s be clear:

Marriage doesn’t magically equal security.

Security is something we cultivate—through self-awareness, healing, boundaries, and self-trust.

Yes, love can offer safety.

But it’s not something we inherit through a ring or a last name.

It’s something we build.

Choice by choice.

Breath by breath.

When we pedestalize marriage, we place our worth outside of ourselves.

When we reclaim our power, we stop performing—

And start co-creating love on our own terms.

This Truth Will Repel or Magnetize

If you’re still holding onto the fantasy that a marriage will fix your wounds or prove your worth…

This probably isn’t for you.

But if something in you is ready to burn down the pedestal—

To question the programming—

To choose love that leaves space for freedom, fire, and fullness—

Then you’re in the right place.

This kind of truth-telling either repels or magnetizes.

And I’m not here to make you comfortable.

I’m here to call you home.

You Are Allowed to Want More

More truth.

More spaciousness.

More intentional love.

More of you in every part of your life.

You don’t need a ring to be whole.

You don’t need to be chosen to be worthy.

And you sure as hell don’t need marriage to feel real love.

Choose your wholeness.

Choose your truth.

And let love rise to meet that.