My idea of digging deeper into anything typically involves finding what the concept constitutes and what it doesn\u2019t. And commitment, although being a very deep subject, seemed to clearly point to one thing \u2013 choosing someone. But what did this \u2018choice\u2019 mean?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The first thought that came to me was sexual exclusivity: that choosing someone meant remaining sexually faithful to them. I thought that\u2019s universal to how we understand commitment and what it actually means. This seemed so obvious that I never bothered to question it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Research on contemporary Japan, however, complicated that assumption. Studies in Japan find that husbands\u2019 long working hours, the presence of very young children, and strained marital relations are major causes of sexless marriages. In that context, many couples treat child rearing and work as higher priorities than sexual activity, and report being relatively unbothered by sexlessness as long as the marital partnership functions well in a child-centred family. (Moriki, Hayashi & Matsukura, 2015.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Of course, this research does not tell us whether these couples remain sexually exclusive. A marriage can be sexless and still retain sexual fidelity. What it made me question was something slightly different: does sexual intimacy necessarily have to be central to marital commitment? If a couple can raise children, share responsibilities and continue to see their marriage as a functioning partnership even when sex becomes less important, then perhaps commitment is also expressed through these other parts of a shared life.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This was not the kind of cultural shock I was prepared for. It made me realise that perhaps I had been putting two different things together: sexual fidelity and sexual intimacy. One is about remaining sexually faithful to someone; the other is about having a sexual connection with them. The former can exist without necessarily having the latter.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And that distinction made me look differently at the question I had started with: what does it actually mean to choose someone? Perhaps choosing someone is not only about remaining sexually faithful to them \u2013 but also about the kind of partnership we build with them, how we share responsibilities and organise our lives. Perhaps what commitment looks like also depends on what marriage itself means within a particular social context.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Back home in India, commitment is often synonymous with marriage, but marriage is not understood only as a relationship between two individuals. In many social settings, it is the beginning of a union of two families. It shapes expectations around childbearing, inheritance, religious belonging, and caste status. Scholars argue that marriage in India helps reproduce social relations of class, caste, and gender. Reading this made me look at India differently. This does not mean that all Indian marriages follow the same rules. Love marriages have increased, even though inter-caste and inter-religious marriages are often treated as socially unacceptable, despite legal provisions allowing them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What\u2019s interesting is that sexual fidelity still has a very clear priority spot in the list of expectations around commitment in a marriage.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What makes it that significant? Maybe because it is often treated as easily monitored, and the definitions are presented as crystal clear, even though in practice many couples treat exclusivity as understood rather than explicitly negotiated. Even the language around sexual fidelity feels familiar. We have clear terms for what counts as a violation. For example \u2013 cheating, infidelity, having an affair. And most people seem to understand what these words imply. It is tied not only to personal trust but also to wider expectations around legitimate parenthood, family reputation, and the boundaries of the marital household. This helps explain why fidelity may be treated as the most visible sign of marital commitment. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
But is that everything that makes a marriage one with true commitment? Choosing each other also entails knowing each other \u2013 the fears, the vulnerabilities, the insecurities and everything that a person might count as a flaw. So, it is not just a promise of sexual exclusivity but also of genuinely committing to growing together and staying together even in tough seasons.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But what if a married couple has stayed together for 20 years, remained monogamous, raised children and attended family functions and gatherings together, but somewhere along the way lost their curiosity to know each other every single day? What if they are just living together and have stopped reaching out to each other and treating each other like an important part of their emotional worlds? Imagine waking up to someone for years but still not being life partners, not being able to be your true self with them and not knowing them inside out. Imagine calling someone your spouse and not feeling excited to spend your entire life with them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Would we still call it complete commitment in the absence of emotional intimacy? I don\u2019t think so. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
It led me to this question: if emotional intimacy should ideally be an important pillar of commitment in marriage, then how come we talk about it so little when we talk about marital commitments? Probably the reason why it does not gain enough space in our imaginations is because it is less policeable. It is largely only known to the two individuals who are married. And a marriage without emotional intimacy may still fulfil many of the visible expectations of commitment without necessarily sustaining the relationship at an emotional level.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
On the other hand, many unmarried partners share intense emotional intimacy and sexual fidelity. The absence of marriage does not mean the absence of commitment. An unmarried couple can make a clear mutual agreement to be sexually exclusive, honour that agreement over time, and build a relationship in which both partners know each other\u2019s fears, vulnerabilities, ambitions, and changing selves. They may not have legal documents, family approval, or a grand ceremony to make their relationship publicly visible, but these absences do not make their fidelity or emotional intimacy unreal. Marriage can publicly recognise a union; it cannot compel two people to remain emotionally available to each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Research comparing married, cohabiting, and living-apart-together couples in Britain finds that cohabiting partners can report levels of sexual intimacy similar to those of married partners. (Ciritel, 2022)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
In a study of 573 North American adults in romantic relationships, 91% reported an agreement to remain both romantically and sexually exclusive, although the study was not confined to married couples. To me, this suggests that fidelity becomes meaningful through mutual agreement and not merely through the fact of a wedding. Yet the study also found that many couples treated exclusivity as understood rather than explicitly discussed, suggesting that the boundaries of fidelity are not always as clear or negotiated as they appear. (Muise, Belu, and O\u2019Sullivan, 2021)<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Emotional intimacy works similarly. It just feels different because it\u2019s harder to point at. It shows up when two people feel safe enough to admit they\u2019re afraid, apologise after hurting each other, or stay curious about each other\u2019s inner lives. Those capacities can exist in marriage, but they can also exist in a committed unmarried relationship. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Does that mean marriage becomes meaningless in the commitment question? Absolutely not. In a country like India, marriage is still the most socially recognised relationship between partners and the foundation of family. But what that doesn\u2019t mean is that marriage manufactures intimacy automatically. Intimacy, especially emotional intimacy, is very tough to quantify or measure and even tougher to force. Marriage may create an environment and conditions in which intimacy can develop, but it never guarantees it. That rests solely on the two individuals. Therefore, marital status may shape the conditions, recognition, and pressures surrounding a relationship, but it is not a reliable substitute for intimacy itself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This makes me wonder \u2013 if marriage doesn\u2019t guarantee all necessary conditions of commitment, then what makes it the most recognised form of it? The social validation? Perhaps.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The ceremonies aren\u2019t just rituals, but a public declaration of commitment. There are legal documents, family blessings and collective witnesses to the union. But can commitment really become more real when there are more people to witness it? Does it really start making more sense? That is unlikely. The ceremony cannot make it more real, but can make it more visible. And though there is meaning in visibility, that doesn\u2019t guarantee any depth in the union. Therefore, this distinction becomes truly significant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
We return to where we started: what is commitment? What does it constitute? What do we promise when we promise commitment?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What we do know is that we seem to question our obvious assumptions around commitment and relationships way less than needed. Maybe commitment is not only about the promises that can be witnessed, formalised or kept track of, but also about the ones that remain between two people. Marriage can recognise commitment, and sexual fidelity can be a part of it, but neither marriage nor commitment tells us how deeply two people know, care for or remain connected to each other. Maybe we need to think deeper about what makes commitment meaningful, rather than just what makes it visible.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Ciritel, AA. (2022) Sexual intimacy and relationship happiness in living apart together, cohabiting, and married relationships: evidence from Britain. Genus 78, 32.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Moriki, Y., Hayashi, K., & Matsukura, R. (2015). Sexless marriages in Japan: Prevalence and reasons. In N. Ogawa & I. H. Shah (Eds.), Low Fertility and Reproductive Health in East Asia<\/em> (pp. 161\u2013185).<\/p>\n\n\n\n Muise, M. D., Belu, C. F., & O’Sullivan, L. F. (2021). Unspoken, yet understood: Exploring how couples communicate their exclusivity agreements. Canadian Journal of Human Sexuality<\/em>, 30<\/em>(2), 196\u2013204<\/p>\n\n\n\n Pacher, A. (2022). Introduction. In: (No) Sex in Japan. Springer, Singapore<\/p>\n\n\n\n Rafiq, S., & Sen, R. (2024). Inter-caste\/Community Marriages: Contestations and Negotiations in the Family. Contemporary Voice of Dalit<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Srivastava, A., & Willoughby, J. (2023). Capital, Caste, and Patriarchy: Theory of Marriage Formation in India. Review of Radical Political Economics, 55<\/em>(1), 47-69.<\/p>\n\n\n\n Cover image by Yukon Haughton<\/a> on Unsplash<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Marriage doesn\u2019t itself manufacture intimacy <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":631,"featured_media":29745,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[5547,8],"tags":[5593,5651,5630,4544,5655,1849,5603,5649,5589,1131,5653,1283,5503,5652,5650,5654],"class_list":{"0":"post-29744","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-commitment-and-sexuality","8":"category-voices","9":"tag-commitment-and-relationships","10":"tag-commitment-in-marriage","11":"tag-commitment-in-relationships","12":"tag-emotional-intimacy","13":"tag-emotional-intimacy-in-marriage","14":"tag-fidelity","15":"tag-love-and-commitment","16":"tag-marital-commitment","17":"tag-marriage-and-commitment","18":"tag-marriage-and-sexuality","19":"tag-marriage-in-india","20":"tag-monogamy","21":"tag-relationships-and-intimacy","22":"tag-sexual-exclusivity","23":"tag-sexual-fidelity","24":"tag-unmarried-relationships"},"menu_order":0,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29744","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/631"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=29744"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29744\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":29786,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29744\/revisions\/29786"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/29745"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=29744"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=29744"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=29744"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}