Why I believe in true love, not marriage.

I once read somewhere that almost all families are dysfunctional. There are bound to be cracks somewhere, and someday, those cracks get so wide that they’re absolutely impossible to hide.

Today I finally realised why, perhaps, I am so afraid of never finding love.

My parents divorced when I was about 3. I don’t think they’d ever been in love with each other. While they separated on good terms and remain ‘friends’ till this day, they never loved each other. Not the way couples should.

My dad is still a bachelor. My mum married my stepdad soon after, but a lot of the time she tells me the reason for their 14-year relationship is because he shares the same goals, and he complements her – he’s by her side, helping her kickstart new entrepreneurial projects, and taking the blows with her, not for her.

Maybe that’s love too. I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t have to be all hugs and kisses and being genuinely happy everyday.

My paternal grandpa left my grandma when my dad was really young. I’ve never met him. My auntie’s marriage fell apart in the end. My uncle’s wife left him.

My mum would tell me to keep these things quiet, because of the stigma, but I’m sure all of you know someone, if not someone who knows someone, with a story like that.

Surrounded by all these failed marriages, dare I still believe in marriage?

I guess I chase after a happy ending and a Hollywood-esque meet-cute because no one in my family had one. No one had the How I Met Your Mother kind of epic story. No one had a ‘it must have been fate’ moment.

Maybe I’m doomed to never have one as well.

Most of my friends may boast a ‘happy, complete family’ , because their parents have been together since…well, forever. But I’ve always wondered, how many couples stay together because they truly want to – and how many stay just for the sake of the kids and having someone to rely on when times are rough?

The kids always suffer when things get messy among couples.

I honestly think being a single mum is great. I don’t intend to marry anyone, ever, unless I’m dead certain that he’s The One. Because I don’t want to get married only to find out that he’s having an affair, or to realise 10 years and 2 kids later that we made a huge mistake.

Arguments are usually always about money. Lack of it, or the handling of it. Someone just advised me to never create a joint account with my husband and pool assets together. I think that’s good advice. It may seem selfish, like it defeats the purpose of having come together as ‘one’ in marriage – but honestly, there won’t be a need to fight over who owes who how much, or stuff like that.

I also get what my mum and friends have been trying to tell me now. I could have 10,000 admirers showering me with gifts and attention, but in the end, I’ll still feel empty because none of them are The One.  Is it better to have many failed relationships than to have none? I’ve yet to find the answer to that, because I’m sure that for every failed relationship , countless good memories are attached as well.


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