I hope marriage never takes the life out of my eyes like it did my mother, and my grandmother, or her mother before her

I never want the words “I do” to put celestial shackles on my wrists and ankles, confining me to my own otherworldly hell

Because so many young women want a wedding band but don’t understand that it’ll only lead to their own personal crucifixion

You sacrifice, you sweat, you bleed, and you break

All for someone that wouldn’t shed a tear for you, even nine months after you carried his seed, and postpartum depression ate you alive and took a piece of your soul

I don’t want marriage to be a box that I check off with the rest of my accomplishments so that I can get it over with 

I want something real, something solid, something ethereal

Furthermore, I refuse to have someone complete me, I will instead be brave and complete myself 

I will be whole, and so will they, and when we grow and become a union, we will not lose ourselves in each other