In the earlier parts of my life, the distinguishing line between forced and arranged marriages had been blurred. In some ways, I relate this back to my westernised upbringing. An interesting study made by Edward Said in his text 'Orientalism' explored how the Western eye views other cultural practices as versions of its own tendencies. If it strays from conventional Western normalities, it is dismissed as unnatural - despite it potentially being an unproblematic custom in its place of origin. Somewhere along the line, the Western world confused the practices of forced and arranged marriages (which, I feel the need to point out, it indeed encouraged itself in prior centuries) and the effects have been widely misleading.
With my mind being imbued with the problematic images of young brides-to-be, carrying trays of tea and biscuits into the room - inhabited by a potential suitor, I was exceedingly quick to reject the possibility of an arranged marriage of my own.
I suppose I believed that no one in their right mind would ever undergo an arranged marriage willingly. The thought seemed bizarre and foreign. Unnatural and slightly unsettling. I had thought that rejecting the concept of an arranged marriage complimented the regimented feminist agenda that I had adopted and thus, it became a thing that I would shake my head at.
I'm older now, and I can recognise that my prior views were more heavily influenced by what an arranged marriage used to be as opposed to what it is now. Before, societal views that favoured wealth, fair skin and future prospects hugely dominated the minds of those who would orchestrate such marriages, and thus arranged marriages were used as a means to marry for advantage as opposed to genuine connection.
Yet, what angered me most was how arranged marriages were used to deliver a young woman away from the control of one male and into the control of another. This would often be done without wholly acknowledging the wants and needs of the young women in question, and this is arguably where the confusion between arranged and forced marriages begun.
It was in discussions with the women of my own family that led to my growing aggravation at the abundance of female ambitions that have been squandered through these binding marital contracts.
If I look at my maternal grandmother, for example, I can see a woman who had a potent love for history and acquiring knowledge of the wider world. A woman who still seeks to educate herself on the profound gravities of modern life, yet a woman who was robbed of her independence - to pursue such endeavours - at the age of seventeen.
I am seventeen, and I cannot even begin to fathom having to give up the wealth of education that I have gained in order to establish a family with another human being. There is still so much I have left to do. Still so much that I have left to learn.
In conversations with my grandmother, she tells me that she is still happy with the way she lived her life. She tells me that she cannot bring herself to regret the joys that both my mother and uncle have given her. Yet, there is an acknowledgement of what her life could have been, had she been given the chance to explore and enrich her promising capacities.
There had been a particular discussion with my grandmother, that I remember, wherein she had told me that when my mother had reached the expected 'marriageable' age she had fought fiercely to shelter her from the outpouring of proposals that had been sent her way. She wanted to give my mother the time to truly explore herself. She had wanted to give my mother the time that she hadn't been given herself.
It is the stories, such as these, that make me feel such profound depths of gratitude that my own parents don't expect such a marriage of me. As I have gotten older, the idea of marriage has lost its appeal. The sacrifices that I have seen the women in my life make, in order to provide such futures for their children, are some that I struggle to comprehend. I don't know if I ever will be ready to give so much up, as they have done for me.
Maybe that makes me selfish. A lot of women are branded with such a title for their refusal to marry and have children. Yet, I don't tend to view it that way. I want to live a life that satisfies the things that my mother and grandmothers would have wanted. If I change my mind, then so be it - but at least I have been gifted with the wonders of having a choice. Something that they, undeservingly, didn't have, and it is a gift that I refuse to take for granted.
So no, I don't hate arranged marriages anymore. Now that I am older, I understand that if an individual wants to enter such an agreement, then they have every right to do so.
As long as they have a choice.
With my mind being imbued with the problematic images of young brides-to-be, carrying trays of tea and biscuits into the room - inhabited by a potential suitor, I was exceedingly quick to reject the possibility of an arranged marriage of my own.
I suppose I believed that no one in their right mind would ever undergo an arranged marriage willingly. The thought seemed bizarre and foreign. Unnatural and slightly unsettling. I had thought that rejecting the concept of an arranged marriage complimented the regimented feminist agenda that I had adopted and thus, it became a thing that I would shake my head at.
I'm older now, and I can recognise that my prior views were more heavily influenced by what an arranged marriage used to be as opposed to what it is now. Before, societal views that favoured wealth, fair skin and future prospects hugely dominated the minds of those who would orchestrate such marriages, and thus arranged marriages were used as a means to marry for advantage as opposed to genuine connection.
Yet, what angered me most was how arranged marriages were used to deliver a young woman away from the control of one male and into the control of another. This would often be done without wholly acknowledging the wants and needs of the young women in question, and this is arguably where the confusion between arranged and forced marriages begun.
It was in discussions with the women of my own family that led to my growing aggravation at the abundance of female ambitions that have been squandered through these binding marital contracts.
If I look at my maternal grandmother, for example, I can see a woman who had a potent love for history and acquiring knowledge of the wider world. A woman who still seeks to educate herself on the profound gravities of modern life, yet a woman who was robbed of her independence - to pursue such endeavours - at the age of seventeen.
I am seventeen, and I cannot even begin to fathom having to give up the wealth of education that I have gained in order to establish a family with another human being. There is still so much I have left to do. Still so much that I have left to learn.
In conversations with my grandmother, she tells me that she is still happy with the way she lived her life. She tells me that she cannot bring herself to regret the joys that both my mother and uncle have given her. Yet, there is an acknowledgement of what her life could have been, had she been given the chance to explore and enrich her promising capacities.
There had been a particular discussion with my grandmother, that I remember, wherein she had told me that when my mother had reached the expected 'marriageable' age she had fought fiercely to shelter her from the outpouring of proposals that had been sent her way. She wanted to give my mother the time to truly explore herself. She had wanted to give my mother the time that she hadn't been given herself.
It is the stories, such as these, that make me feel such profound depths of gratitude that my own parents don't expect such a marriage of me. As I have gotten older, the idea of marriage has lost its appeal. The sacrifices that I have seen the women in my life make, in order to provide such futures for their children, are some that I struggle to comprehend. I don't know if I ever will be ready to give so much up, as they have done for me.
Maybe that makes me selfish. A lot of women are branded with such a title for their refusal to marry and have children. Yet, I don't tend to view it that way. I want to live a life that satisfies the things that my mother and grandmothers would have wanted. If I change my mind, then so be it - but at least I have been gifted with the wonders of having a choice. Something that they, undeservingly, didn't have, and it is a gift that I refuse to take for granted.
So no, I don't hate arranged marriages anymore. Now that I am older, I understand that if an individual wants to enter such an agreement, then they have every right to do so.
As long as they have a choice.
