Recently, I met some friends for lunch. Everyone at the table was either approaching or already in their early thirties and, with the exception of me, Asian (by Asian I mean of South Asian descent i.e. being of the Indian subcontinent). As some might have deemed inevitable given the demographic of our group, the conversation eventually turned to relationships. But as the only non-Asian at the table, it quickly became apparent that my perspective on marriage and relationships was different from everyone else’s. Nonetheless, this made me reflect on the Asian pursuit and perception of marriage and the extent to which it isn’t actually that dissimilar to western ideals.
In its ignorance, western media and attitudes can often be quick to disparage traditional Asian views on marriage. And as a result, there’s a lot that is misunderstood. While I’m not of the sizeable Asian diaspora that exists in the UK, I’m reasonably familiar with Asian culture and the significance it holds for marriage. Although while this isn’t different from other cultures where marriage is often aspired to and celebrated, what stands out in Asian culture is the pressure many feel is placed upon them to get married.
Typically, there’s an expectation placed on second generation Asians to become academically and professionally successful before getting married to someone that “looks good” in the eyes of their community.
Consequently, as Asians who are yet to be married enter their mid-to-late twenties and thirties, the pressure to do so ramps up. Websites like shaadi.com (notably a ‘matrimonial’ rather than dating website) and other ‘mainstream’ dating sites are registered with in expediting the prospect of marriage. Furthermore, the offers of ‘introductions’ – being put in contact with someone from the community who also happens to be single – also begin.
Admittedly, my only references to introductions are the experiences of others but I understand they can be notorious in lacking any filter. Rather than focusing on actual commonality between two people, the basis for the introduction can simply be that the other person is also single and “looking”. To an outsider to the culture, it can come across as contrived and unnatural. On the other hand, limiting any stipulations can allow two people to become acquainted without a ‘tick box’ approach being employed beforehand.
In going on introductions, there’s also a sense of reassurance on the basis of meeting someone from your community with whom you share a mutual acquaintance. But whoever has put you in contact with your date doesn’t necessarily really know the person you’re meeting. After all, I wouldn’t set up a female friend or relative on a date with a family friend’s cousin’s friend’s neighbour’s brother, just on the basis of them being from my community (I realise not all introductions are this tenuous). So why should this be any different? Perhaps the fact that it’s a well-practiced feature of the culture has led to it being overlooked.
If you consider introductions in a western context, the principles are similar to being set up on a date or meeting someone through online dating. Although with introductions, there is often the hope that one of these will lead to eventual marriage. Yet regardless of cultural background, is this much different for anyone that is seriously looking for a relationship; particularly as they enter a stage in their life where marriage is something they desire? Probably not.
Where the difference lies is this optimism is compounded by pressure, indirectly or otherwise, from parents and the wider community. And for many, including some of my own friends, it can result in a burgeoning sense of obligation to get married but for the wrong reasons.
The extent to which such obligation can often be culturally inherent makes it difficult to refrain from succumbing to. Therefore many feel compelled to force a situation that doesn’t work or they convince themselves that an empty relationship could be ‘the one’ – all rather than causing any derailment from the pursuit of marriage.
In an attempt to get closer to the goal of marriage, many will also compromise their expectations in what they’re seeking in a potential partner. Sometimes this can merely be a case of moving the goalposts from what was once sought and deemed important but in other instances, it can crudely be a lowering of standards. Again, this isn’t different to individuals from other cultures. However, it’s generally driven by a perspective that is born of social conditioning on attitudes towards marriage. In both cases, it’s not fair on those that feel it’s the only way but it sadly still occurs.
Aside from the historical and largely patriarchal reasons for its importance, the measure of success attached to marriage (and the sometimes perceived failure of being unmarried) arguably lies in the significance of a traditional family structure within Asian culture. Even so, not achieving this shouldn’t be deemed to equal failure. I know unmarried Asians for whom being academically, professionally and personally accomplished isn’t enough. Instead, not being married can inexplicably evoke unwarranted pity, concern and condescension, even from some of their married peers who stupidly and arrogantly consider themselves superior due to their marital status. Angry Brown Girl (@AngryBrownGirl), a blogger of East Indian descent, has written of her frustrations as an unmarried female in her thirties. Despite her own accomplishments and contentment with her life, not being married has nonetheless at times made her feel incomplete. But from her blog posts, there’s clearly a line drawn between wanting to be married and rightly resisting any pressure to compromise what she wants in a partner and a relationship.
A yearning for marriage and companionship isn’t exclusive to Asian culture. People, regardless of their background, will try to meet someone who shares their values, interests and consciously or otherwise, their culture. In principle, this isn’t any different when considered in an Asian context. However, in practice, it’s the pressure to get married that differentiates the approach.
I’ve seen Asian friends feel compelled (albeit not forced) to at least appear to be seeking marriage by half-heartedly and indifferently going on numerous introductions. Similarly, for others, their longing for marriage may be ingrained in them rather than being what they genuinely want. After all, marriage arguably isn’t for everyone and doesn’t have an expiry date by which it needs to be activated either. Conversely, there are some who truly yearn for the traditional, cultural standard of marriage and firmly grasp it with both hands once it’s within reach. And there isn’t anything wrong with that either. It’s what they want; not something they feel obliged to desire. I recently read a personal yet amusing take on wanting the traditional notion of marriage from Pia Khan, a blogger of Pakistani descent. Her frustrations in finding ‘Prince Charming’ lie less with any cultural standards or expectations and more with his inability to present himself to her.
The Asian approach to marriage may seem contrived and not always organic to someone who isn’t familiar with or is unable to empathise with the culture. Indeed, some Asians will admit to that sometimes being the case. Yet the underlying objective of seeking companionship within a relationship, while maintaining tradition, isn’t any different to western ideals. Instead, it’s the cultural perspective, and the consequent pressure, that distinguishes the Asian experience and has kept marriage as central to the culture and the mindset of the diaspora.
In its ignorance, western media and attitudes can often be quick to disparage traditional Asian views on marriage. And as a result, there’s a lot that is misunderstood. While I’m not of the sizeable Asian diaspora that exists in the UK, I’m reasonably familiar with Asian culture and the significance it holds for marriage. Although while this isn’t different from other cultures where marriage is often aspired to and celebrated, what stands out in Asian culture is the pressure many feel is placed upon them to get married.
Typically, there’s an expectation placed on second generation Asians to become academically and professionally successful before getting married to someone that “looks good” in the eyes of their community.
 |
Admittedly, my only references to introductions are the experiences of others but I understand they can be notorious in lacking any filter. Rather than focusing on actual commonality between two people, the basis for the introduction can simply be that the other person is also single and “looking”. To an outsider to the culture, it can come across as contrived and unnatural. On the other hand, limiting any stipulations can allow two people to become acquainted without a ‘tick box’ approach being employed beforehand.
In going on introductions, there’s also a sense of reassurance on the basis of meeting someone from your community with whom you share a mutual acquaintance. But whoever has put you in contact with your date doesn’t necessarily really know the person you’re meeting. After all, I wouldn’t set up a female friend or relative on a date with a family friend’s cousin’s friend’s neighbour’s brother, just on the basis of them being from my community (I realise not all introductions are this tenuous). So why should this be any different? Perhaps the fact that it’s a well-practiced feature of the culture has led to it being overlooked.
If you consider introductions in a western context, the principles are similar to being set up on a date or meeting someone through online dating. Although with introductions, there is often the hope that one of these will lead to eventual marriage. Yet regardless of cultural background, is this much different for anyone that is seriously looking for a relationship; particularly as they enter a stage in their life where marriage is something they desire? Probably not.
Where the difference lies is this optimism is compounded by pressure, indirectly or otherwise, from parents and the wider community. And for many, including some of my own friends, it can result in a burgeoning sense of obligation to get married but for the wrong reasons.
The extent to which such obligation can often be culturally inherent makes it difficult to refrain from succumbing to. Therefore many feel compelled to force a situation that doesn’t work or they convince themselves that an empty relationship could be ‘the one’ – all rather than causing any derailment from the pursuit of marriage.
In an attempt to get closer to the goal of marriage, many will also compromise their expectations in what they’re seeking in a potential partner. Sometimes this can merely be a case of moving the goalposts from what was once sought and deemed important but in other instances, it can crudely be a lowering of standards. Again, this isn’t different to individuals from other cultures. However, it’s generally driven by a perspective that is born of social conditioning on attitudes towards marriage. In both cases, it’s not fair on those that feel it’s the only way but it sadly still occurs.
Aside from the historical and largely patriarchal reasons for its importance, the measure of success attached to marriage (and the sometimes perceived failure of being unmarried) arguably lies in the significance of a traditional family structure within Asian culture. Even so, not achieving this shouldn’t be deemed to equal failure. I know unmarried Asians for whom being academically, professionally and personally accomplished isn’t enough. Instead, not being married can inexplicably evoke unwarranted pity, concern and condescension, even from some of their married peers who stupidly and arrogantly consider themselves superior due to their marital status. Angry Brown Girl (@AngryBrownGirl), a blogger of East Indian descent, has written of her frustrations as an unmarried female in her thirties. Despite her own accomplishments and contentment with her life, not being married has nonetheless at times made her feel incomplete. But from her blog posts, there’s clearly a line drawn between wanting to be married and rightly resisting any pressure to compromise what she wants in a partner and a relationship.
A yearning for marriage and companionship isn’t exclusive to Asian culture. People, regardless of their background, will try to meet someone who shares their values, interests and consciously or otherwise, their culture. In principle, this isn’t any different when considered in an Asian context. However, in practice, it’s the pressure to get married that differentiates the approach.
I’ve seen Asian friends feel compelled (albeit not forced) to at least appear to be seeking marriage by half-heartedly and indifferently going on numerous introductions. Similarly, for others, their longing for marriage may be ingrained in them rather than being what they genuinely want. After all, marriage arguably isn’t for everyone and doesn’t have an expiry date by which it needs to be activated either. Conversely, there are some who truly yearn for the traditional, cultural standard of marriage and firmly grasp it with both hands once it’s within reach. And there isn’t anything wrong with that either. It’s what they want; not something they feel obliged to desire. I recently read a personal yet amusing take on wanting the traditional notion of marriage from Pia Khan, a blogger of Pakistani descent. Her frustrations in finding ‘Prince Charming’ lie less with any cultural standards or expectations and more with his inability to present himself to her.
The Asian approach to marriage may seem contrived and not always organic to someone who isn’t familiar with or is unable to empathise with the culture. Indeed, some Asians will admit to that sometimes being the case. Yet the underlying objective of seeking companionship within a relationship, while maintaining tradition, isn’t any different to western ideals. Instead, it’s the cultural perspective, and the consequent pressure, that distinguishes the Asian experience and has kept marriage as central to the culture and the mindset of the diaspora.
