7 great reasons to get married—and 6 that almost always lead to regret

Not long ago, I was sitting on my apartment balcony in Saigon, sipping jasmine tea and listening to the gentle clatter of motorbikes below. I’d been married for a few years by then, and my wife had just told me she was pregnant.

As the sunset painted the skyline pink and orange, I started thinking about all the expectations people attach to marriage—how it’s often seen as the solution to loneliness, the next logical step, or a badge of success. But what I’ve learned, both from personal experience and years studying psychology and Buddhist philosophy, is that getting married for the wrong reasons can feel like walking into a prison disguised as a fairytale.

That’s why I want to take a more mindful look at this topic. If you’re wondering whether marriage is right for you—or you’re reflecting on why you got married in the first place—this article will walk you through:

• Seven meaningful, grounded reasons to get married

• Six reasons that might look good on the surface but often lead to suffering

• How non-attachment and mindful love can create a deeper, healthier connection

Let’s explore the difference between choosing marriage out of presence versus choosing it out of fear.

7 great reasons to get married

1. You want to grow with someone, not fix them

In healthy marriages, you’re not trying to “complete” each other. You’re two whole people walking alongside one another, growing individually and together. The goal isn’t to fix the other person—it’s to support their unfolding.

In psychology, this is known as “mutual differentiation”—the ability to maintain your sense of self while staying connected. It leads to a more authentic intimacy, not one built on control or dependence.

In my experience, the best moments in my marriage haven’t come from trying to change each other—but from watching each other evolve naturally.

2. You deeply enjoy their presence—even in silence

If you find joy in simply being around your partner, that’s a powerful sign. You don’t need constant stimulation, drama, or distraction. You just enjoy being.

This reflects a Buddhist idea of contentment with what is—a kind of non-striving love that doesn’t need to be constantly entertained.

Ask yourself: can I sit in silence with them and still feel connected?

3. You share core values—not just common hobbies

Shared interests are nice, but shared values are what carry you through tough times. Do you both care about kindness? Integrity? Family? Growth?

Studies in relationship psychology consistently show that shared values are better predictors of long-term compatibility than chemistry alone.

Chemistry fades. Values ground you.

4. You communicate with curiosity, not judgment

Disagreements are inevitable. But how you fight matters more than what you fight about. Healthy couples approach conflict with the mindset: “Help me understand your world.”

This reflects the Buddhist idea of right speech—speaking with compassion, honesty, and intention. If your partner triggers curiosity rather than defensiveness in you (and vice versa), that’s a great reason to build something deeper together.

5. You feel freer, not more confined, in the relationship

Marriage should expand your world, not shrink it. You should feel more you, not less, in the presence of your partner.

In Buddhist terms, this is the difference between attachment (clinging) and love (freedom). True love doesn’t chain—it liberates.

If you feel more authentic, more creative, more courageous because of your partner—that’s something sacred.

6. You’ve worked on yourself before committing

You’re not perfect—but you’ve done the inner work. You’ve explored your patterns, your emotional wounds, your baggage. You’re not expecting marriage to heal what only self-awareness can.

Before I got married, I spent years alone, reading Dharma books in Chiang Mai cafes, journaling about past relationships, and learning how to be with myself. That was the foundation.

Psychology calls this “self-concept clarity.” Buddhism calls it “knowing the mind.” Both point to the same thing: don’t enter marriage hoping it will fill a void. Fill the void first.

7. You want to give more than you take

Marriage thrives when love is an offering, not a transaction. This doesn’t mean you’re a martyr—it just means your instinct is to nourish the relationship, not constantly measure what you’re getting back.

If you feel naturally inclined to give—your time, presence, support—without keeping score, that’s a beautiful place to start from.

6 terrible reasons to get married

1. You’re afraid of being alone

Loneliness is hard—but marrying just to avoid it is like moving into a house with cracks in the foundation because it has a nice view. It might feel better at first, but the deeper instability always surfaces.

I’ve seen people marry their loneliness, not their partner. The result is often resentment disguised as routine.

Buddhism teaches us that suffering comes when we cling to avoid discomfort. Get married from love, not lack.

2. Your family expects it

Cultural and familial pressure is real. But remember: your parents won’t live your marriage—you will.

Living according to others’ expectations is a surefire path to inner conflict. Psychology calls this “self-alienation.” Buddhist teachings would call it living in delusion—mistaking social approval for truth.

Ask: am I choosing this path freely, or am I reacting?

3. You want a wedding, not a marriage

A wedding is a day. A marriage is a lifetime of days. If you’re more excited about the event than the everyday, that’s a sign to pause.

I’ve met people who spent more time choosing napkin colors than discussing how they handle money or conflict. A mindful life begins with mindful choices.

4. You think it will fix your relationship problems

If your relationship has been rocky for a while, marriage won’t magically solve things—it will amplify them.

As it is often said, “Marriage is a highlighter.” It brings out the best and worst. Entering it to “solve” dysfunction often leads to deeper entanglement.

Healing must come first. Commitment, second.

5. You feel “behind” compared to others

Your friend just got married. Your cousin’s posting baby bump photos. And here you are, wondering if you’re broken.

This is the trap of comparison. The Buddha called it dukkha—the unsatisfactoriness that arises from craving what others seem to have.

True freedom comes when you follow your own timeline, not society’s.

6. You’re scared this is your only chance

Many people settle because they’re afraid the right person will never come. But fear isn’t a solid foundation.

I nearly married someone in my twenties for this exact reason. I convinced myself she was “good enough.” Years later, I’m so grateful I waited.

Love born from fear creates more fear. Love born from wholeness creates peace.

A mindfulness lens on marriage: love without clinging

In Buddhist philosophy, there’s a concept called non-attachment (alobha). It’s often misunderstood. Non-attachment doesn’t mean not caring. It means caring without clinging.

When we cling to a person, we try to control, possess, or extract from them. But when we love with non-attachment, we allow space. We let the other person breathe, grow, and even disagree.

This practice isn’t just spiritual—it’s deeply practical. I’ve found that the less I try to control my wife, the more freely we love each other. We’re not trying to merge identities or erase individuality. We’re walking alongside each other—two whole people, supporting each other’s paths.

If you’re considering marriage, ask yourself:

• Can I love them even if they change?

• Can I stay open even when I don’t get my way?

• Can I let go of expectations while still showing up fully?

These are hard questions. But they point to the kind of love that lasts—not because it holds tight, but because it flows.

Final reflections: marriage as a conscious choice

Marriage isn’t a status symbol or a security blanket. It’s not a remedy for loneliness or a shortcut to happiness.

Done mindfully, marriage is a spiritual practice. It’s a daily choice to show up, to listen, to grow, and to let go. It’s not about perfect harmony every day—it’s about coming back to presence, again and again.

Whether you’re already married or still deciding, I hope this reflection helps you step into that decision with greater clarity. Not from fear. Not from pressure. But from love.

And if you ever forget why you chose this path—just come back to presence. That’s where love lives.