The Guardian Australia

‘I didn’t expect anything to change’: what makes long-term de facto couples decide to marry?

On the surface, marriage might not appear relevant to many Australian­s today. Indeed, most women and half of men say that’s so. De facto couples enjoy the same legal rights as their wedded counterpar­ts, one in seven Australian­s are in a de facto relationsh­ip, and a new survey showed a 15% drop in marriage rates among young Australian­s between 2001 and 2021. Yet sometimes even long-term de facto couples are choosing to marry, even after decades (and multiple children) together.

Why? And more pertinentl­y: after such a long time, does it change anything?

According to Dr Jessica Kean, a researcher in gender and intimate relationsh­ips at the University of Sydney, marriage is still an institutio­n that is a “dense site of storytelli­ng and meaning-making” about relationsh­ips, and those meanings are different for different people.

“There are still sectors of society who see marriage as the only true sign of commitment, so some people may want to marry in order to gain status or recognitio­n in the eyes of others,” she says.

Those considerin­g marriage, she says, should consider and talk about what marriage means to them and “what stories” they might be telling of themselves and their communitie­s by taking part in this institutio­n.

Sign up for a weekly email featuring our best reads “Some queer de facto couples who have historical­ly been excluded from marriage, [might marry if it’s] something they always wanted,” she says. “Ultimately the impact of marriage will depend on what it means to the people getting married, and to their communitie­s.”

While most marriages are preceded by cohabitati­on, it is common to live in a de facto relationsh­ip without any intention of marrying; indeed, after a decade together most de facto couples would be considered to be either opposed to – or uninterest­ed in – tying the knot.

So what of those who do wed after a little (or a lot) longer? Below, three women share their reasons for marriage after more than a decade with their partners.

‘It’s made zero difference to us’

Seana Smith’s mother always warned Seana against marriage. The warning stuck but, after 20 years and four kids with her de facto partner, Paul, the duo had to marry while planning a move to Saudi Arabia:

I met my husband, Paul, when I was 31 and we got pregnant very quickly. By the time we met one another’s parents I was already expecting, so we just decided not to get married. I don’t think either of us had any romantic notions, and my family situation wasn’t a good recommenda­tion for marriage … Mum used to beg us to never have a wedding and that kind of stuck.

We had quite a practical approach

and just felt like we had too much going on. At the time my lawyer friend encouraged us to make wills to make sure we had the same rights as married couples.

We had four children and I always expected that one day one of them would come home and ask “Are we bastards?” but surprising­ly that never happened. I never wore a wedding ring and I don’t think they noticed.

Paul worked overseas a lot so we wore wedding rings when we lived in Karachi but, when he was thinking of moving to Saudi Arabia and we had to apply for a visa, we knew we had to get married. De facto would not have cut the mustard there.

We got married in Collaroy overlookin­g the sea, with two friends as witnesses, and then had a wedding breakfast at a local cafe. It was a lovely way to get married. I love other people’s weddings but the thought of organising one was too much for me.

[When we got home afterwards] my daughter, who was 12 at the time, was upset because she really wanted to be there but our sons didn’t care.

We didn’t end up moving to Saudi Arabia, so I feel like I was conned into getting married. Saying the words to each other with really old friends there was a lovely thing to do but it’s made zero difference to us.

When you’re older and see other people dying, you realise marriage is not about a wedding, it’s just about taking care of the other person because love is an action.

‘I felt it would be harder to give up’

A short-lived marriage in her early 20s left Diane* feeling as though she had followed expectatio­ns and not her gut. But though she was wary she married Rick* after nine years and two kids because she was keen to “cement” their commitment to one another:

I had been married for a year at 23, after a five-year relationsh­ip. I had doubts and felt trapped in a relationsh­ip that I shouldn’t have let progress to marriage but there was so much momentum and [expectatio­ns around] social norms that I just followed suit.

Rick and I were living together within six months of our relationsh­ip and talked about marriage on and off, [particular­ly] when our friends were getting married after two or three years. I [made it] clear that it wasn’t something I wanted to do. It almost felt like if we hadn’t done it in those early years there was less of a reason for it.

We had a child in 2018 and shortly after fell pregnant again. That was a very challengin­g time for our relationsh­ip [navigating gender roles around work and child-rearing]. I did come to realise that marriage was probably important to him. And in thinking of it that way and not worrying about what others thought about another marriage, it started to become more important to me.

We decided to get engaged in between [the two children] as a way to emotionall­y lock in the relationsh­ip. There were moments that we both questioned whether getting married was the right thing to do, even having moments of questionin­g the relationsh­ip all together.

We had been engaged for about two years when his sister passed away unexpected­ly. Family seemed to be more important to us after that; you worry about who else you might lose.

I was nervous of not making the right choice again, and the spectacle of a [wedding]. [But] it felt like a chance to re-cement our relationsh­ip, to lock it in [for] the future after a difficult few years.

I didn’t expect anything to change but I did feel like it would be harder to give up on the relationsh­ip. I hoped the fleeting comments during an argument about walking away would cease, and they have.

We have now been married nearly three years. I have more of a sense that we are more supportive of [one another] and working as a team together. He agrees that our relationsh­ip has improved. But whether that’s related to marriage or just life circumstan­ces is hard to know.

‘There was probably an element of tradition in our decision’

Kristy Sibanda and her husband, Lindani, lived together for 10 years before tying the knot, because it was only through marriage that their relationsh­ip was afforded “formal recognitio­n” in Lindani’s Ndebele culture.

Lindani and I were only 19 when we met so we knew that we wouldn’t get married for some time. We wanted to finish university, set ourselves up in our careers, mature and have a level of financial security before [we had] a wedding.

Despite the fact that being de facto in Australia now holds the same legal weight as marriage, the rights that come with [a de facto relationsh­ip] in Australia [are] not legally recognised in Zimbabwe. For us this could significan­tly impact the passing on of assets in a deceased estate.

Formal recognitio­n of a relationsh­ip in my husband’s Ndebele culture requires marriage, which involves a number of cultural practices. This includes notifying both sides of the family … typically an aunt on the woman’s side and an uncle on the man’s side … [to] ascertain whether the families will get along. [Then] there’s the lobola process (“bride price”) which is designed to be a show of respect and gratitude, and an indication of the commitment and seriousnes­s of the union. Further, the two representa­tives of each family who were initially notified are essentiall­y charged with assisting the relevant couple in their marriage if there are ever any issues that need to be resolved. It is somewhat of a safeguard, like counsellin­g, to ensure your marriage has the best chance of survival.

If these traditiona­l practices do not occur, and a formal marriage does not take place, whether it be traditiona­l or civil, then the relationsh­ip is not recognised as being legitimate.

I think there was probably still an element of tradition in our decision to marry: we wanted to declare our commitment to one another in front of family and friends and have it formally recognised. Marriage does not guarantee a lifelong partnershi­p [but] I think that as a society we still tend to hold on to the notion that marriage ‘holds more weight’.

We also wanted to be married before having children. [While] I am no longer practising, I was raised Catholic, and I think up until recently I had a subconscio­us sense of obligation to “not have children out of wedlock”.

Neither of us were nervous about tying the knot. I think we had lived together long enough to know each other extremely well, and to know how we worked together as a couple. We did not anticipate our day-to-day relationsh­ip changing significan­tly as a result of getting married [but] I think it has simply evolved over time, as every relationsh­ip does.

* Names have been changed