Guest Post: The Pressures to Marry Quickly, and What I’ve Learned From Pushing Back
by Sarah Schow
Growing up, I couldn’t wait to live on my own. As the oldest of seven, I made sure to tell my parents any chance that I could, that I did not appreciate being the guinea pig.
I remember being at EFY in 2007, and the question was asked about what we most looked forward to when we were married. I answered that I most looked forward to making my own rules. The teacher for the class thought my answer was hilarious and made light of it, cracking a joke at my expense.
I have a fear of authority, but I also love to push back where possible—a complex I picked up from being the guinea pig, I’m sure. That inner turmoil of being true to myself while simultaneously pleasing those in leadership positions has been something I’ve carried into adulthood. I’m still active in the church, but I vocalize my thoughts and push back as much as I feel comfortable doing. I have found that it’s gotten easier over the years, but the path I’ve painstakingly carved out has lots of bumps and detours.
One of the pivotal moments in my young adulthood was the experience of dating my husband for as long as we did. We dated for five years—not the norm, I know.
My dad always told me cautionary tales about couples he knew from his time in YSA, or how he and my mom advised us to date a year before getting married. He also told me how when he had his exit interview for his mission, his mission president told him to “go home and get married before you get weird.” My dad often revised that advice, saying, “Go home and get un-weird, then get married before you get weird again.” I also remember hearing from trusted YW leaders to not marry a project. So much advice and cautionary tales were thrown my way growing up, that when it came time for myself and my boyfriend (now husband) to make our decisions, we were then told we were doing it wrong.
We had been dating for not even three months when our YSA bishop at the time asked us to meet with him. He told us to get married because he was worried about how physical we were. I was sitting there thinking, “We’re doing the same things as anyone else. Back scratches in sacrament meeting, make outs on the couch at our respective apartments.”
Holding back angry tears, I told our bishop no, because my parents always told me to date a year before getting married, and my family was going through a lot of things that prevented them from even attending a wedding, let alone fund one. (My dad was laid off and couldn’t travel due to things with his work visa, etc.)
That same bishopric then pushed us to be in temple prep at least three times because they thought if I took temple prep, it would get the ball moving and get me on board with marrying my husband.
Don’t get me wrong, I had the desire to marry him—no convincing needed there, but we weren’t ready and had to experience things as boyfriend and girlfriend before we got married. We ensured that our foundation was solid before we started building upon it.
Fast forward three years later after that conversation with that YSA bishop, we had a new bishopric, and a chance to be led by people who didn’t have preconceived notions about us. The bishop we had was amazing, and we both leaned on him a lot during that time in YSA. But unfortunately, more people started to talk about us. A lot of people assumed that we were having premarital sex, that we’d never get married, and that we should split.
A member of the bishopric was dealing with tithes and offerings with our friend who was the ward clerk at the time. The counselor asked our friend if he knew when we planned on getting married. Our friend simply responded that he didn’t know, nor was he our keeper. The counselor then responded, “You either know after six months or you don’t.” Our friend told us what he had heard. I was seeing red. I went to our bishop the following Sunday and told him what I had heard, saying that I shouldn’t have heard it, but it also shouldn’t have been said. Our bishop was so understanding, apologized on the counselor’s behalf, and said that, yes, it shouldn’t have been said, and then thanked me for talking to him about it.
Shortly after that experience, there was a remark made on a YSA confessions page about my (now) husband and I. That if we were couples goals for some people, “YIKES!” and then quoted Beyoncé’s “Single Ladies,” song: “If you liked it then you should have put a ring on it.” Peers from my YSA liked that post; I was hurt and angry.
The following Sunday after that confession was posted was fast and testimony meeting. I remember getting up and bearing my testimony, saying that I don’t expect anyone to understand me perfectly, but my Savior does. He understands me perfectly, oh what comfort that brings to me! I also bore testimony that nowhere in the scriptures does it say that we need to hit certain milestones by certain ages or timelines—we don’t need to marry after three months of dating. We don’t need to figure out our careers by a certain age, we don’t need to have a certain amount of kids within a certain amount of time after marrying, we don’t need to be home owners by a certain age—the list goes on and on. Everyone’s timeline will be different, and that’s what is so beautiful about the plan. The end goal is to return to our Heavenly Parents, but how we get there will look different to each of us.
Shortly after that testimony meeting, my (now) husband and I decided to take a break from church. We needed to step away from the noise and unwanted feedback from our YSA peers and leaders. We needed to focus on us and take that time. We were not perfect— we did end up having premarital sex and living together, but we needed to do things on our own terms. I did have family members tell me that I was just trying to justify the choices that I made during this time, but how else are we supposed to learn if we don’t choose for ourselves?! Isn’t that the whole point of the Savior’s plan?
A year and a half into our break from church, we got married. We went far away from our college town, hired a female officiant, and got married with just our family members and our friends who were our witnesses. The small ceremony was perfect because we did it on our own terms, in our own timing—not because we were told to. I have no regrets on how we did it. The people who needed to be there were there. We made a simple post saying “Surprise! We’re married!” on Instagram, and the amount of support we received was overwhelming, even from the naysayers who made the bets that we’d never get married.
About five months after we got married, we felt ready to go back to church. We wanted to test the waters as in a family ward and see how the environment differed. Thankfully, our family ward was (and still is) great. They’re accepting and they really strive to be like Christ. They don’t care where we’ve been or how we got there. We feel welcomed and also lucky.
I was definitely nervous that a lot of people would bombard us with questions regarding when we’d have kids, but thankfully we didn’t encounter that, possibly because we stuck our necks out for our decision to take our time with dating one another, or maybe people are just better at respecting that boundary.
A year after we got married, we decided to get sealed. My feelings about the temple aside, it was a happy day. Even though our sealer objectified me a little bit and spent a lot of time talking about tithing, I was just happy to be committing to someone that I truly knew. That was always a fear of mine growing up, that I would be marrying a stranger. Thankfully that wasn’t the case. I knew my husband. He was and still is my home. We truly have become one. We are aligned in our thinking and our goals. We communicate. We are quick to forgive. We are true partners. If we had gotten married as quickly as our first YSA bishop desired for us, would we have been as strong as we are now? It’s hard to say, but I am so grateful for the courage of our convictions.
There are couples that started dating around the same time as us, who married a lot quicker than we did. Thankfully a lot of them have remained together, but not all of them have been so lucky. Perhaps those people were meant to go through that experience, but I often wonder if they would have rushed into marriage if the pressure and expectation were simply not there.
As scary as it is to go against the grain, I know I am better for it. No two relationships are the same, so why would our timelines be the same? Some people need to take longer than others. We need to stop pressuring people to “go home and get married before they get weird” after their missions. We need to encourage young people to find themselves. Find out what they’re passionate about. Develop their testimonies away from the influence of family and future spouses. Our young single adults need to do things because they feel the timing is right for them, and also need to not be afraid to mess up along the way.
Getting married shortly after dating someone has been such an unspoken rule in our church culture. Like I said, even though I have a fear of authority, I also like making my own rules— so you bet that I’ll do what feels right to me, even if I’m shaking and terrified nine times out of ten.
My advice to young single adults is to take your time. At the end of the day, it’s your life—you have to be comfortable with the pace you set. Nobody else should have that power or influence over you, especially because they’re not the ones living your life. Even if you’re angry crying in your bishops office like I was, I hope you also have the courage to say no.
