artificial insemination syringe
One of my acquaintances recently tied the knot for the second time. She had an exquisite wedding, complete with a flowing white gown and veil. Her bridesmaids looked fantastic, and she spent more on this celebration than on her first, despite it being only a fraction of the size due to the pandemic. The reception was lavish, filled with gourmet food, and they partied well into the night.
Later this summer, she hosted another grand reception for those who couldn’t attend the first event. While it was beautiful and precisely what she envisioned—especially after a challenging first marriage—there’s not a single part of me that longs for a repeat of that experience.
I was married for nearly twenty years, and we shared a fulfilling life together. Eventually, we mutually agreed it was time to part ways as our love faded and our relationship began to impact our children negatively.
My wedding day was one of the most enchanting moments of my life. In my twenties, I aspired to have that fairy-tale wedding, and I worked tirelessly to make it happen. I financed it independently, handled much of the planning myself, and everything fell into place just as I had dreamed.
Even though we’re both in loving relationships now, we still function as a family in many ways. We co-parent effectively and maintain a friendship. My partner has expressed a desire to marry someday, even bringing it up while we watched a wedding unfold from a distance this past weekend. However, I don’t feel the need or desire to walk down that aisle again.
Years have passed since my divorce was finalized. I’ve been with my partner for a significant time, and we’ve cultivated something special together, weathering many challenges. Friends and family often ask why we aren’t married or why I never discuss it.
“Don’t you want to share your life with someone?”
“Aren’t you too old to be calling someone your boyfriend?”
“Wouldn’t it be exciting to have another wedding?”
In my view, I am already sharing my life with someone. I don’t require a contract or a ring to validate that bond. And no, you’re never too old to pursue what makes you happy, whether that’s having a boyfriend, multiple partners, or enjoying life solo.
When it comes to throwing a wedding, I’d rather eat pig’s feet than endure the expense, planning, and effort involved. At this point in my life, a party won’t solidify anything for me.
I cherish my independence. I want the freedom to exit a relationship whenever I choose without feeling tethered by the complications of divorce. I’ve experienced that once and have no desire to go through it again.
Some claim my divorce dimmed my spark, but I see it as a wake-up call. Relationships can end, they are complex, and nothing is guaranteed. When my ex and I exchanged vows, we believed we would be together forever—and for a long time, we did. The reality that this was not true was more painful than letting each other go. It served as a stark reminder that life is unpredictable, and that’s a tough pill to swallow.
However, I’m not bitter. I feel more at peace and clarity than ever before. My choice not to remarry doesn’t equate to a lack of belief in love or happiness. Many couples marry to celebrate their love, and I respect that tradition. But for me, it’s simply not necessary.
There’s a prevalent misconception that all women should aspire to get married by a certain age, and many assume that divorced women want to remarry. This is far from the truth. Some of us feel we’ve experienced that chapter and don’t need a wedding to have a strong, fulfilling partnership.
I’ve learned to keep an open mind; I may change my perspective in the future. But for now, I find contentment in my relationship and the love we share, and that’s more than enough for me.
For more insights, check out this post on home insemination, and if you’re curious about at-home options, Make A Mom is a great authority on the subject. Also, for a deeper understanding of pregnancy and home insemination, this Wikipedia article is an excellent resource.