Marrying Myself

Why My Life Without a Wedding or Baby Shower Still Matters

Lately, I’ve been thinking about all my friends who are getting married, expecting a baby, or have already had one.
I’ve also been reflecting on the possibility that it might never happen to me. I'm close to forty years old, and those things were never at the top of my list. Maybe one day—but certainly not today. And time goes by. But that’s a topic for another essay.

I started to think about how expensive London is becoming—by the minute, it feels—and here I am, earning a normal salary, living an average life. Yet somehow, I’m still affording trips abroad for hen parties, contributing to “let’s pay for the bride’s excursions as a gift,” buying matching outfits, and buying even more gifts. Not to mention my own outfit for the wedding, plus the gift for the couple, of course.

I also did the math on all the baby gifts I’ve bought for my friends’ children.
No—I’m not complaining. I love sharing in and celebrating my friends’ happiness and choices. But who celebrates mine?

If I decide never to get married or have children, when will I receive the same attention—or even just the same amount of financial investment—that I’ve given in support of their lifestyles?

It’s ironic that if you're single, you have to manage your finances all by yourself, and yet still be able to pay for other people’s holidays, gifts, and babies.
I don’t regret that my friends have different lifestyles. I just want to highlight that no one is celebrating mine.

There are no cards in Sainsbury’s or Tesco—or any other shop in the UK, or in the world, to be honest—that say “Congratulations on not marrying the wrong man,” or “Well done for not having a baby,” or “Cheers to being self-sufficient.”
Everything is about the other half, the couples, the marriages, the hen parties, and the gender reveal parties.

We’re supposed to be living in a modern society—more equal, more fair for everybody—yet the same old standards resurface when it comes to being single versus being part of a couple.

So maybe it's time we start celebrating ourselves, not in contrast to others, but in our own right. Choosing your own path—whether it's marriage and motherhood or independence and self-discovery—takes courage. I may not have a registry or a baby shower, but I have built a life that feels true to me. And that deserves recognition, too. Maybe not with confetti or cake (though I wouldn’t mind either), but at the very least, with acknowledgment. Because living fully, on your own terms, should be something worth celebrating.