A blogger I really admire announced her pregnancy a few days ago, and the news struck me in an unexpected way.
In the past couple of years, not getting married or not having children has almost become a kind of social trend. Many young people around me seem to be following that path, convinced that freedom and independence mean avoiding marriage and motherhood.
When I talk to my friends or people online, I can clearly sense how negatively most of them view marriage and childbirth. I even started to assume that independent, self-sufficient women would naturally choose not to marry or have kids—because that seemed like the more “rational” choice.
But life isn’t about following trends. It’s about making choices that fit who we are at certain moments of our journey.
Choosing not to marry or have children doesn’t automatically make you cool or independent.
And choosing marriage or motherhood doesn’t mean you’ve surrendered to mediocrity.
Sometimes, it just means you haven’t yet met the right person—the one who makes partnership feel safe and meaningful.
Rediscovering Myself Through Motherhood
A few years ago, I truly doubted whether I wanted to have a child. Motherhood disrupted my routines and threw my life into chaos.
For a while, I was afraid to run or jump because postpartum uterine prolapse tied not only my body but also my mind. My partner and I sacrificed nearly all our free time for our baby—movie nights and dinner dates turned into sunny afternoons at the park with our little human.
I began reading feminist books that often described motherhood as a form of “maternal punishment.” I hesitated and struggled, wondering if that was my reality too.
But when my daughter started kindergarten this year, I finally realized how much she had given me—growth, laughter, and love that feels both grounding and infinite.
She’s older now, and though I worry less, the joy she brings me keeps growing stronger. She loves me deeply, and she makes me believe that I am capable, valuable, and good. She’s the glue that strengthens the bond between me and my partner. Because of her, we’ve learned to cooperate better and to love more intentionally.
She doesn’t have much, but even with a tiny piece of chocolate, she’ll offer me half. Because of her, my happiness has become something tangible—something I can hold.
What Marriage Taught Me About Love
Marriage, compared to dating, is a much steadier kind of relationship.
In the four years I’ve been married, many of my friends have changed partners—some even after being close to engagement. I can feel their growing mistrust in love, their hesitation between holding on and letting go.
We’ve all become more focused on what we want, often forgetting what our partners need. When conflicts arise, our instinct is to blame and to run, not to stay and communicate.
For me, marriage has become a lesson in harmony and patience—because walking away isn’t as easy as before.
When I was dating, every argument made me want to leave. Even after reconciliation, it usually took a huge fight and tears. But now, in marriage, we deal with things differently. Running away would invite lectures from our parents, so instead, we talk.
We lie in bed, calm down, and truly listen—to his frustrations, to mine. We talk until we understand each other again, and only then do we fall asleep in peace, arms wrapped around one another.
Parenthood Deepens the Bond
A child demands work, yes—but also forges a deeper connection between partners.
We invest energy watching a little person grow. We start to value health, longevity, and the idea of growing old together. We fear illness—not just our child’s, but our own.
I used to think being single meant freedom, the power to do whatever I wanted. But now, I see that marriage means having someone to walk beside me toward the life I want.
Two People, One Team
This year, both my husband and I have had very unstable incomes. Sometimes we earn over 10,000 yuan together; other times, barely 3,000 each. Yet, this is the first time I haven’t felt anxious about money.
We both have simple needs—5,000 yuan a month covers our basics, and we save the rest. Part for retirement, part for our daughter’s future.
We’re not wealthy, but together we’ve saved well into six figures.
Because two people saving is always faster than one—and we can face risks with much greater stability.
We complement each other perfectly, handling what the other can’t.
The Warmth of Everyday Life
These days, I’m terribly forgetful—I often leave the stove on when boiling eggs. Luckily, my husband takes over these little disasters.
He, on the other hand, can never dress right when the seasons change—either too many layers or too few. But I love organizing wardrobes, including his, so now he’s finally dressing appropriately for the weather.
If you marry someone you truly love, life can be wonderfully joyful.
I’m from Shanxi, so I’m good at making noodles. He’s from Anhui, a meat lover and an amazing cook. We never argue over what to eat. We both love cooking for each other, and hearing, “This is so delicious, honey,” makes us both deeply content.
In summer, we sleep on opposite sides of the bed under a thin blanket.
But come autumn and winter, he becomes my personal heater.
We have all kinds of heating gadgets—hand warmers, electric blankets—but nothing beats the warmth of his arms. He holds me gently, and when I place my feet against his legs, his warmth slowly seeps into me.
The joy of marriage isn’t glamorous, but it’s beautifully real.
Why Marriage Still Matters
Marriage isn’t just about sharing bills, raising kids, or repaying a mortgage. It’s about finding someone to face the loneliness of life with.
Every risky journey requires a license—whether it’s driving, practicing medicine, or even love. Because walking this world alone can be lonely, but having someone beside you gives you courage.
Being married to him makes me feel like life will never truly fall apart.
When our families get sick, we calmly use our savings to help.
When I cry or get sick, he takes leave from work to be there.
He reminds me—over and over—to bring an umbrella, to eat well, to wear more layers.
Some hardships are inevitable—loss, layoffs, money troubles—but with him, I’ve learned that life never really collapses.
The Right Time and the Right Person
I hope that one day, if your thoughts about marriage begin to waver, it won’t be because you’ve “reached that age,” but because you’ve found someone who makes you believe in love again.
Our fear of marriage often comes from watching broken relationships around us, but feelings evolve. And when, despite all that fear, you suddenly find yourself wanting to marry—that might mean the right person is already by your side.
Because when you truly love the right person, marriage becomes simple—it’s just having one more person to laugh with, to play with, and to walk beside for the rest of your life. ❤️
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