'Instead of marriage, relationships should come with a seven-year contract.'

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This article was originally published in Claire Greaves Substack. Claire is an artist and creative director and co-founder of P.E Nation and Booie Beauty. It has been republished here with permission.

Hold onto your hats… this is a personal reflection on marriage, social pressure, and what we really owe each other.

I've never been a fan of marriage. There, I said it. In a world where Pinterest wedding boards and proposal videos dominate our feeds, admitting this is brutal.

Because, here's the thing, I got married anyway. Not because I suddenly saw the light or had some romantic revelation, but because I was told by society that's what you do, that's what a successful relationship looks like.

And that's exactly the problem.

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Deep Dive: Okay, so what really bothers me about traditional marriage is the symbolism that we've somehow convinced ourselves is romantic.

The idea of a father "giving away" his daughter by literally handing her over to another man like property changing ownership, is so deeply embedded in our wedding traditions that most people don't even question it.

It's 2025, and we're still playing out a script written when women were considered a possession.

The white dress (symbolising virginity), the father walking the bride down the aisle, the "you may kiss the bride" permission granted by an officiant.

It's all theatre from an era when marriage was a business transaction between families.

When I realised I was expected to be handed over like some kind of ceremonial object, something in me recoiled.

The thought of standing there, being passed from one man to another while everyone smiled and took photos, felt like participating in my own diminishment.

So when I did get married, I made one thing crystal clear: I would not be walked down any aisle by my father to be handed over to anyone. Because I'm not property. I never was.

Here's what's so insidious about social pressure: it doesn't announce itself with a gong. It whispers quietly. It shows up in the concerned looks from relatives who ask when you're finally going to settle down.

It's on the assumption that a long-term relationship isn't serious until there's a ring involved. It's the subtle messaging that love without legal documentation is somehow incomplete or immature.

I caved to that pressure, and I'm not proud of it. Not because marriage is inherently wrong, but because I did it for everyone else except the person who mattered most; myself.

I let the collective expectations of family, friends, and society override my own values and instincts about what my relationship needed.

The irony is that the people pressuring you to get married often have their own complicated relationships with the institution.

Imagine if, instead of asking "When are you getting married?" we asked, "How are you growing together?"

Instead of celebrating the wedding day, what if we celebrated the years of choosing each other through ordinary Tuesdays and difficult conversations?

A different kind of contract: the seven-year relationship agreement.

What if we completely reimagined how commitment works? Instead of "till death do us part", a promise that, statistically, half of us won't keep anyway, what if relationships operated on seven-year renewable contracts?

Here's how it could work:

The seven-year cycle: Relationships would be structured around seven-year commitments, recognising that people fundamentally change and grow in roughly seven-year cycles.

Intentional renewal process: At the end of each seven-year period, couples would come together for an honest evaluation. Has each person genuinely done their best every day to be the best version of themselves for their partner and their relationship/family?

Mutual assessment: Both people would need to agree that their partner has consistently shown up with effort, respect, and consideration before renewing for another seven years.

Natural exit strategy: If either person hasn't maintained their commitment to growth and partnership, the contract ends without the stigma, legal battles, or financial devastation of traditional divorce.

Eliminates complacency: Knowing that your relationship has regular checkpoints would prevent the dangerous comfort that leads to taking each other for granted.

Maintains intentionality: Instead of assuming your partner will always be there regardless of how you treat them, you'd be motivated to actively choose them every day because you genuinely want to keep them.

Reduces betrayal: When people know they're being evaluated on their daily efforts, they're less likely to engage in behaviours that damage trust and respect.

Honours change: Acknowledges that people evolve, and sometimes growing apart isn't a failure, it's just life.

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This system would keep both people fighting for each other not out of fear of legal consequences, but because they're genuinely invested in being worthy of their partner's continued choice.

It would eliminate the false security of "forever" that often leads to relationship entropy, where people stop trying because they assume their partner is trapped.

Imagine relationships where both people woke up everyday knowing they had to earn their place in that partnership. Where consideration, respect, and growth weren't just wedding day promises but daily practices with real consequences.

This article was originally published on Substack. You can find more of Claire's writing here.

Feature Image: Getty. (Stock image for illustrative purposes only).