Resisting Heteroarchy in the United States: Queer Women’s Attitudes Toward Marriage

Abstract

Although same-sex couples have had access to legal marriage since 2015, the current literature does not ask young adults who identify as part of the LGBTQ community about their desire to be married. Using interviews with 36 women who self-identified as queer, I find that they are more likely to desire marriage. However, an important segment is also ambivalent about legal marriage. I also find that women who want to be married are more likely to highlight the benefits of marriage, including the opportunity to resist heteronormative beliefs and practices in their marital relationships. Women who reject or are ambivalent about marriage are more likely to highlight the drawbacks of the institution. I argue that both groups of women use their emphasis on the benefits or drawbacks of marriage to resist heteroarchy and other intersecting oppressions they still face despite the legalization of same-sex marriage, without compromising their identity as queer.

1. Introduction

From its inception, marriage has been used as a political strategy among individuals and institutions alike. From making alliances to stop feuds and wars to being a pathway for the inclusion of lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT)1 individuals into broader American society, marriage remains a “political project”—a specific organization of kinship relationships that challenges or perpetuates systems of oppression in the United States (US) (Khuu 2017, p. 189; Coontz 2005). In this paper, I examine the marital desires, and the explanations of those desires, among young adult queer2 women who came of age during and towards the end of the fight for marriage equality and have lived through almost a decade of the federal legalization of same-sex marriage. I argue that their explanations for their attitudes toward marriage represent a way to resist interlocking systems of oppression that still impact their lived experiences as sexual minorities in the United States (US), despite the federal legalization of same-sex marriage in the country. Young adult lesbian and bisexual women still view marriage as a political project—a tool they can use to challenge intersecting systems of oppression.

The discussion of the inclusion of same-sex couples in legal marriage in the US—marriage equality—began in 1953. ONE magazine, a pro-LGBT publication, published an essay about the possibility of marriage for sexual minorities (Ball 2016). By the mid-1990s, marriage equality advocates saw an opportunity to use marriage as a political strategy for expanding the civil rights of LGBTQ people in the US (Stoddard 1989). Carlos Ball (2016, p. 3) argued that

Through the process of demanding admission into the institution of marriage, the movement sought to establish that LGBT individuals were capable of entering and remaining in committed relationships--and for those who had them, of raising children—in ways that did not differ fundamentally from the experiences of heterosexuals.

The use of marriage as a pathway for gaining other civil rights represented a shift away from the “us versus them” ideologies that had formerly characterized the LGBTQ movement (Ghaziani 2011). This shift initiated heated debates within the LGBTQ community about whether the pursuit and achievement of marriage equality would alter the LGBTQ identity, culture, and movement if same-sex marriage was legalized (Bernstein and Taylor 2013; Ball 2016; Khuu 2017).

In 2015, the Supreme Court legalized same-sex marriage (Hart-Brinson 2018). It has been a decade since this legislation. Much has changed in the US political landscape that allowed this legalization. Within the decade of the legalization of same-sex marriage, support for LGBTQ people has become increasingly polarized, mirroring the political climate of the US. On one hand, the LGBTQ community has experienced increased inclusion, visibility, and acceptance in American society. Yet there is also growing animosity towards this group (Acosta 2021; Badgett et al. 2025; Kaufman and Compton 2021). This polarization has further been fueled by the increasingly rapid rise of right-wing extremism. The institutionalization of right-wing extremism is embodied in a largely conservative Supreme Court that has gutted established laws like federal access to abortion and reproductive care and the presidential re-election of Donald Trump in 2024. Amidst these alarming events, LGBTQ individuals and allies worry that the legalization of same-sex marriage may be repealed in the future (Badgett et al. 2025; Zhou 2024).

Since the Obergefell ruling, however, there has been little systemic exploration of the marital attitudes among never married, young adult LGBTQ individuals who are living in these turbulent times. This study takes advantage of this unique moment in American history to explore marital attitudes, and the explanations for these desires, among 36 cisgender, lesbian, bisexual, and asexual women who self-identified as part of what they called the queer community. “Queer” is an umbrella term that LGBTQ people today use to “encompass a range of sexual and gender identities that fall outside heterosexual norms” (Ocobock 2024, p. 57). They are between 22 and 35 years old, never married, college-educated, came of age during the fight for the legalization of same-sex marriage, and are now living through increasing political hostility towards the LGBTQ community. I find queer women in this study are more likely to desire marriage, but a significant minority are ambivalent about it. Furthermore, I also find that women who desire marriage primarily highlight the benefits and opportunities that legal marriage provides to explain their marital desires. Women who are ambivalent about and those who reject marriage, on the other hand, emphasize critiques and drawbacks of legal marriage that marriage pluralists raised during the intracommunity debate about marriage equality. Based on these findings, despite the legalization of same-sex marriage, I argue queer women’s attitudes toward marriage and their explanations can be understood as a strategy for resisting intersecting systems of oppressions that remain relevant for their lived experiences as sexual minorities3 in the US.

1.1. Marital Benefits and the Desire to Marry

The scholarship on marital desires among sexual minorities suggests that the benefits that the state gives exclusively to legally married couples are important reasons LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples desire marriage. In other words, same-sex marriage is a civil rights matter. Prior to 2015, individuals in same-sex relationships could not be legally married in the US. Consequently, they were ineligible for the over one thousand federal rights, benefits, and protections the federal government currently provides exclusively to married individuals (Macedo 2015; NOW 2024; Chamie and Mirkin 2011). Many of these are tangible economic benefits—tax breaks, employment assistance, inheritance and estate planning, health insurance, home ownership—and thereby have consequences for individuals’ financial stability and security, as they did prior to the state and church regulation of marriage. Studies find LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples who desire marriage and those who do not recognize that they are systematically excluded from benefits that could significantly improve their outcomes, opportunities, and well-being (Robinson and Frost 2023; Dalessandro 2021; Ocobock 2019; Richman 2014). Indeed, findings on the impact of the legalization of same-sex marriage suggests that similar to different-sex couples, married LGBTQ individuals are more likely to have employment, health insurance, increased household incomes, and greater investments in home ownership (Badgett et al. 2025; Macedo 2015; Hoy 2023).

Marriage also provides exclusive intangible benefits because of its cultural relevance in the US. Specifically, marriage remains a status-granting institution, even as the quality of the status it confers changes over time and place. Marriage marks the transition to adulthood, which bestows respect, and recently is also considered an accomplishment, even as the number of people who get married steadily declines (Coontz 2005; Cherlin 2009). Marriage in the last few decades has also become a middle-class status marker. College-educated individuals (whom studies often include in their measurement of the middle class) are more likely to get married than those without college degrees, even though the desire for marriage cuts across class (Cherlin 2009; Edin and Kefalas 2011). The increase in the financial costs of weddings and the explosion of the wedding industry also demonstrates this recent turn of marriage as a marker of middle-class status. Weddings are now “public displays” of having secured the necessary economic resources to be able to marry (Cherlin 2009, p. 174; Ingraham 2008). Research also shows that young adults want to be married after they have a secured stable and consistent source of economic resources, so that they can afford a wedding (Hoy and Pokhrel 2025; Kefalas et al. 2011). This was not the case 50 years ago, when getting married was considered the natural outcome of a romantic relationship.

As the church and state started to regulate marriage, it went from a private contract between two mutually consenting individuals to a ritual required to be performed publicly and in front of witnesses to be recognized as legitimate and legal (Coontz 2005; Macedo 2015). The symbolic and legal became entangled. Marriage was no longer only a contract between two people but also between two people and the state (Coontz 2005; Brown 2024), which further adds to the cultural and class significance that marriage has in American society (Macedo 2015). The research on marital desires among LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples demonstrating access to the increased social status and cultural capital that legal marriage confers also explains the desire for marriage. Some LGBTQ people want to be married because of the social validation and acceptance of their same-sex relationship that legal marriage can facilitate among family, friends, and peers (Robinson and Frost 2023; Ocobock 2024; Dalessandro 2021).

Access to legal marriage is even more significant for some LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples because of the social stigma that queer people still experience. They feel legal marriage can alleviate this stigma because of its cultural significance. This cultural significance may also facilitate challenges or disruptions of stereotypes of deviance and “otherness” used to justify the exclusion of same-sex couples from legal marriage (Macedo 2015; Richman 2014; Ocobock 2024). Thus, the desire for legal marriage is not only an opportunity to increase one’s social status but also to claim full humanity where it has been denied. Again, studies show that these more intangible marital benefits are associated with improved outcomes and opportunities for married same-sex couples. Individuals in same-sex marriages, for instance, experience increased respect and inclusion at work and other social arenas (Green 2010; Macedo 2015; Badgett et al. 2025).

In summary, access to these marital benefits is an important reason marriage equality advocates use the legalization of same-sex marriage as a pathway to other civil rights and inclusion for same-sex couples and LGTBQ individuals. Research on the impact of the access to legal marriage for this population has illustrated that same-sex married couples have experienced significant improvement in their well-being and life outcomes (Badgett et al. 2025; Karney et al. 2024).

1.2. Criticisms and Drawbacks of Marriage

During the intracommunity debates about the legalization of same-sex marriage, marriage pluralists raised four primary concerns about the consequences for the LGBTQ community, culture, and identity. One main concern was that the legalization of same-sex marriage would perpetuate the elevation of marriage between two people as the ideal and ultimate form of organizing kinship relationships in the US, while non-marital relationships remained marginalized, legally and socially. This marginalization would also perpetuate monormativity—the idea that legal marriage implies exclusivity and monogamy among married couples (Worth et al. 2002; Maine 2022). Another concern was that same-sex marriage would further perpetuate heteronormativity, “the suite of cultural, legal, institutional, practices that maintain normative assumptions that there are only two and only two genders, that gender reflects biological sex, and that only sexual attraction between ‘opposites’ genders is natural or acceptable” (Schilt and Westbrook 2009, p. 441). Related to this concern was that same-sex marriage would facilitate what Lisa Duggan (2002, p. 188) called the “new homonormativity”. A “politics of assimilation” that accepts LGBTQ individuals into mainstream society on the condition that they did not challenge or question heteronormativity and led quiet, private lives that were desexualized and depoliticized (Maine 2022, p. 1). Lastly, marriage pluralists—those who did not agree with marriage equality as the main strategy and priority of the LGBTQ movement—were perplexed that same-sex couples, especially women, would want to participate in a “patriarchal institution—that is to say, it benefits men”. This assertion was supported by compelling research evidence (Bernstein and Taylor 2013, p. 10; Khuu 2017).

Researchers found that LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples who were ambivalent about marriage or did not want to marry raised similar concerns. Furthermore, they viewed desires for marriage and being married as out of step with a queer identity, politics, and practice, as marriage pluralists had also argued (Ettelbrick [1989] 2004; Duggan 2002; DeFillipis 2018). Consequently, scholars found that for some LGBTQ people, wanting to be married and being married brought up complicated questions about what it means to be a sexual minority (Dalessandro 2021; Ocobock 2019, 2024). Related to the concerns above, scholars also found that LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples were ambivalent about or rejected marriage, because they were suspicious of the state’s outsized role in something they felt should be a private matter. That the state recognized and offered various benefits and protections exclusively to married individuals was problematic for them. They argued instead that marriage should not be a condition upon which they could obtain privileges and protections they believed were basic human rights (Robinson and Frost 2023; Dalessandro 2021). Some LGTBQ people and same-sex couples people resolved this tension with ambivalence about or refusal to participate in marriage (Robinson and Frost 2023; Dalessandro 2021; Ocobock 2019, 2024).

1.3. Racial/Ethnic Variation in Desires for Marriage

Although the research is limited and results are mixed, the findings also suggest that how LGBTQ individuals who are also people of color view the benefits of marriage may positively influence their desire to be married. For instance, Robinson and Frost (2023) find that some Black LGBTQ individuals who desire marriage believe that marriage equality can provide and promote the equality, social recognition, validation, and acceptance of sexual minorities in other arenas of social life. Other Black LGBTQ people do not see the benefits as significant enough to warrant getting married, as they feel access to legal marriage will do little to alleviate other more pressing issues such as discrimination, homophobia, and poverty. These are issues that significantly affect Black sexual minorities. They additionally argue, similarly to marriage pluralists, that legalizing same-sex marriage will only benefit those who are already privileged—queer, white, cisgender men (Robinson and Frost 2023; Hunter 2013; Ettelbrick [1989] 2004).

Lee (2021) examined how lesbian, gay, and bisexual (LGB) Black, Latino, and Asian adults perceived the impact of the legalization of same-sex marriage on their personal lives. She found that how members of each racial/ethnic group constructed respectability within their respective ethno-racial communities influenced how likely they were to perceive being impacted by federal marriage equality laws. Lee did not specify if the impact was negative or positive. However, the concept of respectability is culturally positive as it connotes acceptance and respect (Higginbotham 1993; Cherlin 2009). Black young adults constructed respectability in terms of being married and religious. Asians constructed respectability in terms of fitting the model minority exemplar, which also included getting married. They were significantly more likely to state that the legalization of same-sex marriage would greatly impact their lives. This finding suggests then that Black and Asian LGB individuals felt that access to legal marriage might positively impact their access to respectability because in their ethnic/racial communities, marriage conferred respectability. LGB Latinos were the least likely to say that marriage equality would have an increased positive impact on their personal lives. They constructed respectability in terms of familism and family acceptance. Consequently, these findings suggest that they felt that the legalization of same-sex marriage might not add much benefit to them in terms of family bonds and acceptance. Together, these findings also suggest that the benefits that LGBTQ people perceived they might receive from marriage were sometimes associated with their racial/ethnic background.

1.4. Filling the Gaps

While the limited scholarship on desires for marriage among LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples provides important insights, the limitations of these studies demonstrate the need for an updated systematic exploration of marital desires post Obergefell v. Hodges. First, the studies that explore marital desires and attitudes among LGBTQ individuals were completed prior to 2015. They also primarily include partnered individuals or same-sex couples married in states where it was legal prior to Obergefell. Consequently, limited conclusions can be drawn about desires for marriage among never married LGBTQ young adults from these studies. Second, studies also show that individuals in same-sex partnerships are more likely to have a college or post-college degree than those in different-sex partnerships (Scherer and Anderson 2021). Yet, studies on marital desires among LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples do not explore how class status, when measured by educational attainment, may influence marital desires among this population. This exploration is important given that marriage is a marker of middle-class status among the college educated. Third, within the decade of same-sex marriage becoming federally recognized, there has also been increasing political polarization in the US. On the one hand, the LGBTQ community has experienced increased inclusion, visibility, and acceptance in American society. On the other hand, there is also increasingly growing animosity towards them with the rise of right-wing extremism. The scholarship has yet to explore marital desires among LGBTQ people in this significant political context. Fourth, it is important to understand marital desires of never married college-educated LGBTQ young adults in a context where heterosexuals are increasingly foregoing marriage and marital benefits. Why may marriage be appealing or unappealing to LGBTQ individuals during such a time? Lastly, gender, family, and feminist scholarship show that marriage continues to disproportionately negatively impact women (Bernstein and Taylor 2013; Few-Demo and Allen 2020; Perry-Jenkins and Gerstel 2020). Women who identify as part of the LGBTQ community, moreover, are quite cognizant of the gender inequality that exists in different-sex marriages (Ocobock 2019; Dalessandro 2021). Yet the research on marital desires among LGBTQ individuals does not explicitly explore women’s desires for marriage given these realities. To fill these gaps in the literature, this study examines desires towards marriage and the rationales that undergird them among college-educated, never married cisgender women between the ages of 22 and 35. They are also of varying racial/ethnic backgrounds and self-identify as queer.

1.5. Theorizing Desires for Marriage

I use the theoretical framework of intersectionality to understand queer women’s attitudes and marital desires and the rationales they provide. Crenshaw (1991) first used this term to demonstrate how the intersection of race and gender create unique experiences for Black women who are victims of domestic violence and rape. Similarly, I argue that queer women’s desires for marriage, or lack thereof, and the justifications they offer should be understood within the context of the intersection of their sexuality, gender, class, and racial/ethnic identities and the corresponding systems of oppressions (i.e., patriarchy and gender inequality, classism, and racism), including heteroarchy—the domination of heterosexuals and heteronormativity (Gilbreath 2011; Thomas 2005)—that they must navigate. Using this theoretical framework, I conclude that women who desire to be married, those who are ambivalent about it, and those who do not want to marry use marriage as a strategy to navigate oppressive systems and institutions that still impact sexual minorities in the US, even though same-sex marriage is legalized in the US.

2. Methods and Materials

2.1. The Sample

This work used semi-structured interviews with 36 women who identified themselves as women, cisgender, and queer. While the participants identified themselves as queer, some also included identifiers such as bisexual, lesbian, or asexual. Asexual women in this study considered themselves queer, even if their sexual preferences leaned toward heterosexuality. While there are asexual people who do not identify with the queer community, these women did. Therefore, I included them in this study because they identified as queer. Transgender women either did not meet the eligibility criteria for the study or did not want to be interviewed. Respondents also self-identified as white, Black, Asian, Latina, or multiracial. Given that I had fewer than ten women in each of the non-white racial/ethnic groups, I created one category called women of color Collapsing participants into one large category did not, however, negate the documented reality that Black, Asian, white, Latino, Middle Eastern, and multiracial women’s lived experiences of queerness are deeply informed by their race and ethnicity (Acosta 2013; Moore 2011; Collins 2004). Rather, creating one category allowed me to explore racial/ethnic differences in desires towards marriage between women of color and white women. The study was approved by the Furman University Institutional Review Board (IRB) in 2021. As part of the application, I noted that I would collect email addresses along with other sensitive information. This was not flagged as an issue in the review of the application. The IRB was primarily concerned with confidentiality and who would have access to the sensitive information collected.

The scholarship shows that educational level, marital status, having children, and being in a long-term relationship influence both attitudes toward marriage and/or the likelihood of being married (Raley et al. 2015; Raley and Sweeney 2020; Lichter et al. 1992). Consequently, my participant eligibility criteria were quite narrow. To be eligible, participants had earned a bachelor’s degree, had no children, were currently single or dating their current partner(s) for one year or less, had never been married before, were between the ages of 22 and 35, and interested in being interviewed for the study. The median age of the sample is 27. This is also the median age for white women and women of color separately.

2.2. Recruitment

Participants were recruited using Facebook, Twitter, and snowball sampling. To determine eligibility, potential participants completed a confidential online eligibility survey that asked about their demographics, including age, sex, educational attainment, preferred sexual identity, gender identity, marital status, length of current relationship if any, children, and interest in being interviewed for the study. I followed a strict protocol after I determined that respondents were eligible for the study. First, I sent each eligible participant an email that notified them of their eligibility. This email also asked them to select a date and time for an interview, using a link to confidential, digital calendar that only they and I could view. If they chose a date and time for the interview, I sent them another email that confirmed their chosen interview day and time for their interview. Second, twenty-four hours before each interview, I sent participants a reminder email about the interview. This email included a study consent form, which also included questions about whether respondents were open to and available for follow-up emails and/or interviews about the study and their consent for me to record and transcribe interviews. All my respondents agreed to follow-up emails/interviews and to their interview being recorded and transcribed. The email also included an identification number, a confidential Zoom link, and an individualized link to a confidential survey of their romantic partner preferences. Respondents completed this survey on their own before the interview. On the day of the interview, I reviewed the consent form with each participant and answered any questions they had.

I conducted interviews in between January and June 2022. The interviews were conducted over Zoom using the confidential link that respondents had been given. Interviews lasted on average between 60 and 120 min but depended on how much respondents wanted to share with me. During each interview, every participant was asked about their preferred sexual and gender identity, experiences of coming out to family and friends, their use of and experiences with online dating, answers to their completed partner preference survey, and about future marital and parental desires. Respondents’ names were not used in this or any other paper as I assigned participants pseudonyms after the interview. Lastly, participants were paid a USD 25 honorarium via Cash app or Venmo after the interview was complete. Payments were also confidential.

2.3. Follow-Up Emails

When I began coding and analyzing my data for queer women’s desires for marriage in January 2024, I noticed that some respondents had not provided an explanation for their desire for marriage or lack thereof. I also had not prompted them to do so. The questions about marital desires were towards the end of a very long interview protocol. It is possible that both I and the respondents were tired, and we wanted to finish the interview in a timely manner. In other cases, respondents provided an explanation without further probing. As all respondents consented to email or interview follow-up questions, I emailed them to ask specifically about their current marital status, desires for marriage and reasons for those desires, and experiences that that shaped or influenced their attitudes toward marriage. About half of the original sample responded to the emailed follow-up questions. I gave them a USD 25 honorarium. To address the issue of time passed, I compared respondents’ answers about marriage from the original interview to their follow-up responses. I did not notice a significant change in attitudes or explanations. Respondents were remarkably consistent in their attitudes towards marriage, despite the two-year gap. In fact, among the four respondents who had gotten married, engaged, or were discussing marriage with their current partner within the two years that had passed, these updates were also consistent with their desires to marry that they noted in the original interview. There was only one respondent who was married but who had been ambivalent about marriage in her original interview. She was open to marriage if it was with the “right person”, but she was largely undecided. As she explained in her email, she met the right person. They had been happily married for six months when she responded to my follow-up questions.

2.4. Coding and Data Analysis

I analyzed the data using an iterative approach (Hill 2022). I reviewed the interview transcriptions several times, coding for larger themes related to marital desires toward marriage (e.g., desires marriage, does not want marriage, ambivalent/unsure about marriage). I then recoded the data for sub-themes related to the explanations offered for desires to marry (e.g., legal benefits of marriage), the rejection of marriage (e.g., gender inequality, classism), and ambivalence toward marriage (e.g., wants benefits but concerned about gender inequality). From there, I explored who gave which explanations for their marital desires. This method allowed explanations between and within groups to be compared.

2.5. AI and Transcription

I used Otter.ai to record and transcribe all the interviews, because transcription by hand is time-consuming and expensive. Given the privacy and ethics issues AI presents for both researchers and participants, I intentionally chose Otter.ai because the company attempts to limit potential breaches of privacy and storage issues. They are part of the Data Privacy Framework (DPF). The DPF has relevant privacy laws that protect data that is shared in the United States, United Kingdom, the European Union, and Switzerland. I additionally implemented my own strict protocols for dealing with participants’ sensitive information and data on Otter.ai. First, I confirmed that respondents had consented to their interview being recorded and transcribed. Second, prior to starting an interview, I confirmed respondents’ full names, so that their names were not on the recordings or transcriptions. I additionally removed any other identifying information (e.g., city of residence) from the completed transcriptions. Third, I saved all recordings and transcriptions using respondents’ identification (ID) numbers that they had been assigned prior to the interview. Furthermore, there is no existing document that matches ID numbers to respondents saved in Otter.ai. Instead, this information is saved on a password-protected laptop on documents that are also password-protected—a laptop and documents to which only I have access. Lastly, Otter.ai uses third-party vendors such as Google, Microsoft Teams and Calendar, and Zoom for various recording and transcription services. To avoid giving these third-party vendors access to my Otter.ai account, I manually logged into my account. I also did not link any of these vendors to my Otter.ai account. While data and privacy breaches are a risk of using AI for transcription, I am hopeful that the deliberate steps that I took protected my respondents and minimized the consequences of any breaches.

2.6. Limitations of the Study

There were study limitations that could have impacted my findings and conclusions, despite my efforts to minimize them. First, I navigated complicated power dynamics that were present yet unspoken due to my social location as a researcher who is a Black, cisgendered, heterosexual woman. In terms of sexuality, participants may have limited their responses to manage stigma and stereotypes about queer people and/or because they did not feel comfortable talking about queerness with a straight woman. To minimize this issue, I conducted mock interviews with four queer women who had completed an eligibility survey for an unrelated project between October and December 2021. I explained that I wanted their feedback about the interview questions, tone, and any other suggestions they had about my interview protocol and approach. Questions that came out of these interviews included experiences with coming out to oneself and family, politics in the queer community, and biphobia. These women are not included in this sample study. These mock interviews helped me to create an interview protocol that did not stigmatize the respondents, facilitated a safe atmosphere for the respondents to answer questions, and alleviated the sexuality and researcher power dynamic between myself and participants.

Second, white respondents may have been reluctant to talk about race with me to avoid being perceived as racist by the Black researcher. To alleviate this issue, I focused on building rapport between myself and the participants by highlighting commonalities between our marginalized positions (gender and/or race) and our class privilege as college-educated individuals. Additionally, about half the sample had obtained or were pursuing a post-college degree. We bonded over the shared struggles of balancing graduate school, work, and other life obligations and desires. I noticed that these shared realities put both respondents and me at ease. I believe that these steps I took to create a warm, inviting, and safe interview space were successful. More than a few respondents noted that at the end of their interview that they were glad they did the interview. They expressed feeling seen and heard. In terms of the emailed follow-up questions, respondents were able to answer in private, which also minimized the power dynamics that were more present in the face-to-face interviews.

Lastly, given the number of respondents and sampling methods, my study is not generalizable to the population of cisgendered college-educated queer women living in the US. It is also not meant to represent all cisgendered queer women or the variety of femininities that exist in this group. Furthermore, this study cannot speak to attitudes about marriage among transgender women. Future research should include a larger sample of women of color and explore marital desires among transgender women.

3. Findings

Quantitatively, I find that overall, queer women are more likely to want to be legally married. The second largest majority, however, are ambivalent or unsure about marriage. Furthermore, women of color are more likely to desire marriage than white women. While I observe no other racial/ethnic differences, I do notice qualitative differences in how women who want to marry talk about marriage compared to their counterparts who are ambivalent or rejected it. Women who want to marry are more likely to emphasize the benefits and opportunities that legal marriage provides, while their counterparts largely discuss criticisms of legal marriage and drawbacks for women. Based on these findings, I argue that queer women use the emphasis on the benefits or drawbacks attitudes about legal marriage to resist systems of oppression that remain relevant for their lived experiences as sexual minorities, despite the legalization of same-sex marriage in the US.

3.1. Benefits of Legal Marriage

All respondents in this study recognize to some degree or another that there are material and immaterial benefits associated with legal marriage. However, women who want to marry someday further emphasize that marriage gives them the opportunity to celebrate access to legal marriage, receive societal recognition of their same-sex relationship, and to challenge and transform traditional ideas about legal marriage.

3.2. Celebrating the Legalization of Same-Sex Marriage

Selena and Annabelle both state that getting married is an important way to celebrate the victory of marriage equality for same-sex couples that was achieved in 2015. Selena, a 25-year-old biracial woman, answers enthusiastically about her desire to get married, “I think I do!… it feels like a great way to exercise my rights—LGBTQ+ marriage rights”. Annabelle, a 24-year-old white woman, further explains why getting legally married marks the victory of marriage equality for her:

Yes, I do want to get married someday. I think that I would want to be legally married as opposed to just in a committed relationship because it was such a triumph when gay marriage was passed into law. I want to celebrate that by being married.

This celebration of marriage equality by getting legally married is not trivial, given that the American state used the exclusion of same-sex couples from marriage to marginalize and dehumanize the LGBTQ community (Todd 2020; Ball 2016). Consequently, Selena and Annabelle’s desire to celebrate this victory with marriage further demonstrates how significant the victory is to them.

3.3. Societal Recognition of Same-Sex Relationships

Valerie, a 30-year-old Asian woman, highlights that societal recognition of a potential same-sex relationship is the reason she wants to be married. She states, “I always thought of it as ‘marriage would be nice someday.’ I would like to have a relationship where we’re officially married. It’s nice to get that societal recognition of your relationship”. Valerie’s implication that legal marriage will also translate into societal approval is astute, given the requirements for obtaining a marriage license in the US. One requirement is that marriage ceremonies be performed in front of witnesses. The number of witnesses is irrelevant. More significant is that the intent to marry and declaration of marriage must be made publicly. Individuals other than the couple must be present to witness it. Consequently, the legality of the marriage is dependent on its visibility to others, a privilege that same-sex couples did not always have. Historically, same-sex couples risked physical violence and even arrest if they were seen in public (Todd 2020). Visibility was risky and dangerous. With the legalization of same-sex marriage, the visibility of the same-sex couple—presumably in front of people who already recognize and accept the relationship and show their validation of it by attending the ceremony—is now a requirement. For Valerie then, the visibility that legal marriage demands also requires that her family, friends, peers, and society in general recognize and validate her same-sex marriage. It means that Valerie’s potential same-sex relationship no longer needs to be hidden or seen as a threat, because it has the same benefits under the law as different-sex marriage.

These implications are significant, given the existing and growing homophobia in the US (Ventriglio et al. 2021; Acosta 2021).

Taken together, legal marriage for Serena, Annabelle, and Valerie presents an opportunity to celebrate something that they have always known—they are fully human. The celebration of one’s full humanity, albeit via marriage, is relevant because it resists a prevailing, heteraoarchic narrative that LGBTQ individuals are somehow defective, deviant, or, worse, sub-human. As scholars and same-sex couples alike argue, the act of getting legally married and being recognized as legally married represents a challenge to a society where heterosexuals still experience an unearned privilege from their sexuality and where marriage still carries significant cultural weight (Ocobock 2024; Bernstein and Taylor 2013). Respondents who want to be married recognize that marriage remains useful for challenging heteroarchy. This suggests that heteroarchy remains a system of oppression that still characterizes their day to day lives, despite the legalization of same-sex marriage.

3.4. Transforming Marriage

Respondents also explain that legal marriage is an opportunity to challenge heteronormativity, homonormativity, and monormativity and embrace more expansive ideas about marriage. In fact, a recurring theme among respondents is not only that they can view marriage this way because they are queer, but also that they desire marriage because they are not beholden to ideas about marriage that perpetuate heteronormativity, homonormativity, and mononormativity. Sage, a 26-year-old Latina, explains that queerness necessarily involves a reframing and rethinking of heterosexual standards for relationships. Consequently, because she is queer, she must view marriage differently than a heterosexual person would.

Queerness is in part about rethinking all our relationships, not just who we’re attracted to. The relative weight I place on friendships, versus, in my opinion, the heavy emphasis heteronormativity places on marriage, made the concept of marriage—a special friendship with rings with one of many beloved people—seem a lot more appetizing.

Not only does queerness require that Stella reject heteronormativity, but because she must reject it, marriage is more desirable to Stella. Additionally, she desires marriage because she expects that queerness, not heteronormativity, will define her marriage.

Joy, a 22-year-old white woman, also highlights the benefits of marriage because she recognizes, similar to Stella, that her future marriage can be a way to reject heteronormativity, homonormativity, and mononormativity. Moreover, her rejection of these ideologies in her future legal marriage also shows she has learned the lessons about the limits of heteronormativity that being queer have thought her. This knowledge makes her more open to being married in the future.

As I’ve grown into my queerness, my ideas of marriage have morphed a lot… I’ve developed a lot more flexible ideas about what relationships and marriage can look like. I don’t believe that marriages need to be monogamous, and children don’t need to be part of the equation. There can be marriages that don’t need strict or any roles to function smoothly. That makes me more optimistic about a future marriage.

Stella, a 27-year-old Middle Eastern woman, similarly challenges the belief that legal marriage implies monogamy and exclusivity among married couples (Maine 2022; Worth et al. 2002). Rather, she explains that these are decisions that couples should make within their relationship. Similar to Sage and Joy, Stella also explains that being queer and in a community with other queer people strongly influences her more expansive views on exclusivity and monogamy.

My partner and I do not believe that sexual/romantic monogamy is for us, but we like the idea of a primary partnership in which to raise a family and to have long-term companionship within… I think that while marriage is a legal arrangement that is traditionally understood to imply exclusivity, couples can decide for themselves, under mutual terms, what that exclusivity extends to. Being part of the queer community has definitely normalized this concept for me. I’ve had far more friends in queer relationships opt for an open long-term partnership… Seeing that polyamory can be implemented successfully, peacefully, and happily in a variety of forms has definitely empowered me to feel more comfortable breaking from the more traditional, monogamous model.

Sage’s view of marriage as a special relationship with one friend among many others, Joy’s rejection of a gendered domestic labor division and monogamy, and Stella’s belief that legal marriage did not imply exclusion and monogamy exemplify what Alexander Maine calls “the homoradical”. Maine (2022, pp. 11, 17) defines the homoradical as “an ‘anti-assimilationist politic’, an actively sexualized and politicized queer experience that contests homonormativity” and “challenges that which seeks to discourage sexual behavior that transcends boundaries of monogamy [and] domesticity”. He further argues that the homoradical is a politic, a politic that can use legal marriage to resist heteroarchy because of its rejection of heteronormativity, homonormativity, and mononormativity. These are ideologies that undergird heteroarchy in American society (Gilbreath 2011; Ingraham 2008).

The findings above also suggest important implications for queerness and marriage. First, these findings suggest that being embedded in queer communities may encourage sexual minorities not only to reject traditional ideas about marriage but also to desire marriage because they can reject these ideas. These findings also suggest that post Obergefell, desires for legal marriage in queer communities are not only accepted, but also importantly, there are individuals in same-sex marriages who can serve as role models for doing marriage in ways that reject heteronormativity, homonormativity, and monogamy. Young adult LGBTQ individuals who want to practice the homoradical may have others to show them how to do so (Scherer 2022). Lastly, these findings suggest a shift in what it means to be queer a decade after same-sex marriage was legalized. These respondents do not seem to view marriage as anti-assimilationist, which characterizes queer politics and personal practice (Ocobock 2024; Bernstein and Taylor 2013). It is also not quite the “us with them” stance that Ghaziani (2011, p. 99) describes of some LGBTQ ideologies when marriage equality becomes the focus of the movement. Rather, it is something in the middle, where to desire marriage, queer individuals must also possess a desire to queer it by practicing the homoradical (Maine 2022). They cannot be separate.

3.5. Drawbacks of Legal Marriage

Respondents who were ambivalent or unsure about marriage and those who did not want to marry primarily highlighted the drawbacks of legal marriage: perpetuating a gender inequality that adversely impacts women, the disadvantages of the state regulation of marriage, and the exploitation of individuals’ finances and emotions that characterize the wedding industrial complex. The latter was a new finding that was not yet observed in any other studies thus far. This finding further highlighted the importance of the examination of marital desires among never married young adults in the decade since same-sex marriage was legalized. Lastly, I found that the participants would only legally marry if there were economic and/or other material benefits they could gain from doing so.

3.6. Marriage and Gender Inequality

Respondents repeatedly discussed how legal marriage was an institution that perpetuated women’s marginalization in American society. They explained that while their potential marriages would not reflect this inequality, they were worried that they will be unable to escape the inferior status of “wife” outside their own marriages. This worry was especially relevant for bisexual and hetero-asexual women for whom there was a possibility of being in a romantic relationship with a heterosexual, cisgender man. Talia, a 30-year-old white hetero-asexual woman, stated, “I lean toward ‘no’ on the question on whether I want to be married someday”. She then recalled a story that underscored her attitude toward marriage:

I’m friends with a heterosexual couple where the man is a social butterfly, and the wife is quite antisocial. They got married and then, poof, she is now de facto in charge of her husband’s very busy social calendar, because people think they need to address her as the family’s primary social planner and calendar keeper! The husband is a wonderful person and realizes that this is a problem; but no matter how hard he tries, the patriarchal ideas of what marriage means are too strong to overcome. This couple lived together for several years before getting married. It was specifically something about them getting married that flipped the married-women-are-the keepers-of-the-family-calendar switch in the brains of their social acquaintances… It would take a really special person to budge me on [rejecting marriage] because heterosexual marriage is generally such a bad deal for women… And you get punished for trying to stake out very basic expectations of a just division of labor when you marry a man”.

Talia’s story highlights how outsiders assume or expect that once a couple legally marries, they will adopt a gendered division of labor where women do most of the unpaid labor in the home. They may even make it challenging for the couple to practice a non-gendered division of labor, because people outside the marriage are committed to heteronormative and patriarchal norms of division of labor. Talia’s (likely) rejection of marriage is not only a rejection of others’ assumption that because she is the wife she is also the primary caretaker in the home. It is also rejection of the expectation that she has little choice but to comply to gendered, heteronormative norms that can undergird the partnerships in different-sex marriages.

Aria, a 30-year-old bisexual white woman, does not want to be married. However, she is more strongly opposed to marrying a man than a woman. Like Talia, her experiences demonstrate that different-sex marriages cannot not escape societal assumptions and expectations about the gendered division of labor and other gender roles within a legal marriage. More significantly, Aria does not feel that men in these marriages will be able to resist adherence to these gender roles.

I prefer not to get married… I think that the role of ‘wife,’ based on things I’ve seen in my personal life and in the sociological research reinforces [traditional] gender roles in relationships so much stronger than just [individuals’] partners—though for that reason I would be more open to marrying a woman than a man… I simply don’t trust that a man, no matter how strongly he claims that he supports non-traditional gender roles in a marriage, would actually live up to it.

Not only does Aria feel that different- or same-sex marriages can escape societal expectations and adherence of gender roles. She importantly also states that men will be unlikely to resist adherence to gendered roles within a different-sex marriage. In doing so, she implies that women may be better at resisting gender roles and consequently also holds men solely responsible for the perpetuation of gender inequality in these marriages. That she does not believe men can resist gender roles and norms also implies that women in different-sex marriages are essentially powerless against men’s inability to reject traditional gender roles. This is likely why, if Aria ever changes her mind and decides to marry, she is more open to marrying a woman than a man. Resistance to heteronormative gender roles will be difficult enough but will be made impossible in a marriage to a man.

Hope, another 30-year-old bisexual white woman, worries about being in the role of wife whether she marries a man or woman.

“I will cringe if anyone calls me their wife in the future. I guess I never want to be a wife. I will be someone’s life partner, lover, [and] best friend… I guess I think a lot about that essay, ‘I Want a Wife’ that was in the first issue of Ms. Magazine. There are all this these conventional ideas of what a wife is. It’s sexist, it’s awful. [Quoting from the article] ‘I want a wife who will like cook for me and clean for me. She will be there to support my endeavors.’ I don’t want to treat anyone like a Wife, capital W, in that sense. And I don’t want to be treated like a Wife, capital W, in that sense.

Like other respondents who were ambivalent about or rejected marriage, however, Hope is open to legal marriage if there are material benefits for her and her spouse. Below, Hope describes a hypothetical scenario that powerfully illustrates how legal marriage could potentially increase her social prestige and class status if she were to marry.

There is the one situation where I’m okay with that [being called a wife] actually… if it’s gonna gain you capital. Let’s say I do get married to an attorney or something. They’re at posh networking dinners. This is kind of your class power, for someone to say, ‘I have a wife. This my wife.’ There is a kind of power in that. So, in that context, because they [her spouse] are making a grab at that power—they’re trying to make partner or something—and they can mesh with the gods [the other partners who are male presumably]. [Spouse says] ‘Oh, yeah. You know, my wife makes the best chicken, you know.’ Go ahead! I will be laughing in the background. But if they’re actually talking about me that way or if this is how they really conceive or me, I will feel differently after I’m married.

In this scenario that Hope describes, it is unclear if her spouse is a man or woman. However, this detail seems nearly irrelevant. The point she makes is that the increase in social prestige and class standing that she and her spouse gain is because there is a “wife”—someone who does labor that is unpaid and undervalued. This allows their spouse the opportunity to “mesh with the gods”, and in doing so increase their “class power”. Her scenario also demonstrates that Hope recognizes that legal marriage can confer respectability and middle-class status. Yet she sees this this conferral as dependent on the marginalization of married women, which is quite insightful and further sheds light on her ambivalence towards marriage. Hope will play along as a joke with her partner, but she does not want marriage if it relies on her spouse’s actual embrace of her and the wife role as inferior.

Talia, Aria, Hope, and other respondents’ rejections of marriage because of the cultural assumption of the “wife” as inferior are well founded. Numerous studies show that married women in different-sex marriages experience significant gender inequality inside and outside their marriages (Bernstein and Taylor 2013; Perry-Jenkins and Gerstel 2020; Tichenor 1999). Moreover, research shows that despite being in same-sex marriages, lesbian couples and women in marital relationships with transgendered men sometimes adopt a gendered division of labor norms and other heteronormative roles. The partner who does the more feminized labor consequently often feels underappreciated and overworked (Moore 2011; Pfeffer 2010).

The findings above support other research that shows queer women are quite aware of the gender inequality that infiltrates legal marriages and which, consequently, makes them ambivalent about marriage or reject it altogether (Dalessandro 2021). These findings also suggest that greater exposure to gender inequality in marriages may negatively impact attitudes towards marriage among queer women. This may be even more so among bisexual women, because there is a possibility that they could partner with a cisgender heterosexual man.

3.7. State Regulation of Marriage and Marital Desires

Respondents ambivalent about or who rejected marriage are also critical of the state regulation of marriage, as they view marriage as a personal decision between two people. Elena, a 27-year-old white woman who also practices polyamory, explains she is ambivalent about marriage because the state regulation of marriage constrains individuals’ choices about how to organize their romantic relationships.

My partner and I have discussed a domestic partnership versus marriage. On the domestic partnership side, it’s much easier to leave… if either of us ever didn’t want to be with the other, that this would just make it easier and have less legalistic bullshit involved, especially with the rollback of no-fault divorce options… I really do not support the government having control over relationships in the legal way that they do when you do get married and try to get divorced. At the same time, it is difficult to, for example, have my partner be the one to make medical decisions for me—if that ever became a problem—without this paperwork via marriage.

Elena’s rationale raises several important points. The state regulation of marriage makes individuals subject to the whims of the state, which may not necessarily align with what is best for their relationship. Legal scholars note that “when couples legally marry each other, they are also wed to the state. As a result, the state dictates various relational interactions between the couple” (Khuu 2017, p. 192; Macedo 2015; Brown 2024). Also, the state regulation of marriage influences what kind of legal arrangement Elena can have with her partner, not necessarily the arrangement she desires. Consequently, she must carefully consider her choices between a legal partnership that allows her more autonomy but offers her fewer legal protections or one that offers her legal protections but also ties her to the relationship in ways undesirable to her. Given that she only has these two options, Elena unsurprisingly concludes that there is too much “legalistic bullshit” to consider, when her priority is being with the people that she loves.

Importantly, Elena does not mention how polyamory plays into her decision making about how she wants to legally organize her relationship with her partner. This is likely because there is no legal recognition of polyamorous relationship in the US. The absence of the consideration of other partners and relationships as she considers marriage is because legal marriage can only be between two people and marital benefits and protections are limited to those two people. Elena’s silence about the incorporation of polyamory into any of her legal relationship options demonstrates a major concern among marriage pluralists about the legalization of same-sex marriage. The state regulation of marriage unfairly privileges marriage as the only acceptable, and therefore superior, type of kinship organization (Ettelbrick [1989] 2004; Khuu 2017; Brake 2012). Brake (2012, p. 144) further argues that the state regulation of marriage perpetuates the “amatonormative” nature of legal marriage. Marriage is amatonormative because it celebrates and rewards “amorous dyads” (Brake 2012, p. 144). This elevation simultaneously promotes the exclusion and stigmatization of other types of romantic relationship formation.

Lastly, as Elena also mentions, the state regulation of marriage makes her concerned about the “rollback of no-fault divorce options”. Given the rightward shift of the US political climate in the decade since Obergefell (Continetti 2024; Montanaro et al. 2024), Elena’s fears about no-fault divorce are warranted. Since 2015, the actual and proposed repeal of certain laws significantly threaten women’s agency in their romantic relationships, and further demonstrate how the state regulation of legal marriage perpetuates women’s inequality and marginalization in the US. No-fault divorce laws allow individuals to end their marriage without providing evidence or proof of a spouse’s wrongdoing (Berger 2024). These laws make it much easier for individuals to leave abusive and/or dangerous marriages. Although no-fault divorce options are determined by individual states, all 50 states in the US have some form of no-fault divorce laws. Some states run by primarily conservative representatives, like Louisiana, Oklahoma, Nebraska, and Texas, have reportedly considered repealing these laws, which would disproportionately harm women (Berger 2024). These disturbing trends reinforce Elena’s critique of the state regulation of marriage as an explanation for her ambivalence about marriage.

Melody, a 30-year-old Filipina, is also ambivalent about legal marriage, even though she is drawn to marriage as a way to demonstrate commitment to a romantic partner. She questions why state regulation means that benefits are reserved for married individuals. “What if I just want my partner to have health insurance. You know, what difference does it make if they’re my spouse or not? Having a legal marriage would bypass that stuff… Although, ideally all that stuff like privileges for marriage would go away… surviving within this system incentivizes you to be married”. She astutely observes that because benefits are exclusively for married individuals, the state regulation of marriage incentivizes marriage over other types of organization of romantic relationships. Melody and Elena’s concerns about the state regulation of marriage underscores their ambivalence about getting married. They are unsure about participating in a system that constrains their choices about how to arrange their romantic relationships rather than offering them “relational autonomy” (Fischel 2016, p. 188)—the agency to choose how they want to organize their relationships without legal ramifications for those choices.

In 2022, the largely conservative US Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade and ended the federal right to abortion (Badgett et al. 2025; Totenberg and McCammon 2022). It was a shocking decision as the law was understood to be settled. The repeal was frightening enough. Clarence Thomas, however, also wrote a concurrence in the decision that implied the court consider repealing same-sex marriage using the same reasoning used to overturn Roe—that the constitution as the framers conceived of it does not protect same-sex marriage (Totenberg and McCammon 2022; Edelman 2022). Therefore, same-sex marriage is unconstitutional and cannot have the same protections as different-sex marriage.

I find that respondents are aware of the overturning of Roe, Judge Thomas’ concurrence, and the political shift toward right-wing extremism. Consequently, they wonder if same-sex marriage will also be overturned within this political climate. Kamila, a 27-year-old white woman, states that she goes “back and forth” about wanting to be married. She is drawn to the “security and benefits” that marriage offers, partially because she has chronic health issues. She nevertheless adds the precarity of the legalization of same-sex marriage to the list of reasons for why she may not want to marry.

I really go back and forth [about desiring marriage]). Ideally, I would like to get married, I think. I know I would like a long-term relationship; and marriage offers security and benefits that cohabitation does not… the current political landscape—if I ended up in a queer relationship, would marriage even be an option?

Like Kamila, Hope also worries about the future of same-sex marriage because of the shifting political landscape.

It has felt really shocking to have to get back to that stage for me. But it felt like we won this battle. It didn’t feel like something I would have to be worried about where, if I do get married to someone in five years, and the legal landscape has shifted.

She also worries about what other venues for legal partnerships will be available in individual states and how extensive the benefits would be under these marriage alternatives.

I think especially with Roe [federal protections under Roe v. Wade] being gone, I think federal gay marriage could be gone within the next handful of years as well… There is this question of how rabid the anti-LGBTQ community is with it and what the Supreme Court decides to do with it. It’s also a question of will civil union or otherwise partnered [options] be legal? If it’s still available, will queer people get to access each other’s Social Security benefits in old age? Or what about visiting hospitals?

The state regulation of marriage presents a real conundrum for participants like Kamila and Hope. It illustrates an important disadvantage of centering marriage equality in the LGBTQ movement and underscores a major concern that marriage pluralists had about the legalization of same-sex marriage. Pluralists argue the state, which has perpetuated discrimination and violence against LGBTQ people, cannot also be trusted to also give them their liberation via the legalization of marriage (Ettelbrick [1989] 2004; Duggan 2002; Wilson 2016; Franke 2016). Because of heteroarchy, the state regulation of marriage subjects same-sex relationships to legal and political precarity in no comparable way to different-sex relationships. Individuals in different-sex marriages do not have to worry about the sudden nullification of their relationships if the political climate changes, because their system rewards and privileges heterosexuality and heteronormativity. Moreover, it demonstrates that the legalization of same-sex marriage is not enough to overcome heterorachy and protect the humanity and civil rights of LGBTQ people and same-sex couples.

3.8. Wedding Industrial Complex

Respondents who rejected or were ambivalent about marriage also express concern about the rising financial and emotional costs of weddings. Elena explains that if she chooses marriage, she and her partner have decided against a wedding celebration because of the financial expense. She states, “Mainly, we don’t want to do a traditional wedding because of cost. If someone wants to pay for it for me though, I’m all for it! But we also care more about saving for a house”. Elena’s preference to allocate money that would typically pay for a wedding celebration elsewhere is not uncommon given the average cost of weddings in the US. In 2024, weddings cost an average of USD 33,000 (Chertoff and Darling 2024). This indeed is a significant home down payment, especially as owning a home becomes more unattainable for American young adults.

The emotional costs of wedding planning play a significant role in Kamila’s ambivalence about marriage. While she is open to marriage because of its material and non-material benefits, wedding planning makes her unsure about getting married at all.

Weddings overall seem like a lot of pressure, expense, and stress that I don’t really want to take on. I have been to five weddings in the last year—bridesmaid in two—and the whole production seemed a lot. My sister got married a few months ago and the sheer amount of wedding decisions she made—from flowers to forks to dresses to drinks—was overwhelming… I love a celebration, I love my friends and family, but these events were really hard on them, the ones we are supposed to be celebrating. Weddings and marriage seem very conflated in a way that makes me uncomfortable, because the wedding is one day, and the marriage is, ideally, for the lifetime.

Research about the wedding industry and the wedding industrial complex supports Elena and Kamila’s observations that weddings are financially and emotionally costly. Ingraham (2008) explains that although fewer people are getting married, weddings have become more expensive; and expensive weddings are a significant aspect of popular American culture. The trend began in the 1990s and has exploded ever since. The size of the wedding industry has more than tripled in the last 20 years. Between expos, boutique services and experiences, destination weddings, and so much more, the wedding industry offers customers a plethora of options. There is also, however, additional pressure to make the “right choice” as couples must “work against classic arguments such as ‘It’s the happiest day of your life’ and ‘It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing’ as they plan their weddings” (Ingraham 2008, p. 45). Notably, the rise of the wedding industrial complex has also happened as marriage has increasingly become a marker of middle-class status and an accomplishment of meeting the socially constructed prerequisites for legal marriage. Cherlin (2009, p. 174) writes,

Weddings have become public displays of the ability to assemble the parts necessary to build a marriage, such as finding steady employment, determining that you can live with your partner harmoniously, gaining confidence in his or her fidelity, and amassing enough money for a nice ceremony and reception.

Ingraham argues that the industry is a conglomeration of economic and political structures that intersect to maintain the significance of weddings and heterosexuality in our cultural imagination, even as it caters to same-sex couples. I will also add that keeping the significance of weddings in our cultural imagination helps to maximize the profits of the wedding industry—which is the goal. Consequently, Elena and Kamila’s refusal to participate in the wedding industry complex is important. First, weddings are now also a physical demonstration of marriage as a middle-class marker, which separates them from their lower-class counterparts and perpetuates class stratification and inequality. Neither woman is interested in having a wedding should they get married. This can also be interpreted as rejecting capitalism and classism, exploitative systems that facilitate marginalization and inequality in American society. Second, it can also be viewed as a rejection of middle-class expectations for college-educated people who decide to marry. A wedding that showcases the trappings of the wedding industrial complex is an expected part of the marriage celebration. Lastly, because a goal of the wedding industrial complex is to reinforce heteronormativity and heterosexuality, rejection of these systems is also a rejection or challenge to heteroarchy. Consequently, that Elena and Kamila reject the wedding industrial complex embodies the personal and political practices that characterize queer identity. Yet if Elena and Kamila get married, their unwillingness to participate in the wedding industrial complex also allows them to participate in a marriage in a way that does not compromise their queer identity and politics.

3.9. What’s Love Gotta Do with It?

Among participants who reject legal marriage and who are ambivalent about it, marriage seems more appealing if there is access to economic and/or other material benefits that respondents cannot otherwise acquire without being legally married. Ellie, a 25-year-old Asian-American woman, was quite ambivalent about marriage. She compared it to completing items on a once-in-a-lifetime bucket list.

I do want to get married someday—just because it’s something I want to experience at least once—like seeing the pyramids or skinny dipping or holding a snake. But marriage as an institution isn’t something I really value as a commitment in my romantic relationships or as an important milestone in my life… I think about the tax benefits thing too, and that’s one of the few pros I have about marriage.

Unlike her counterparts who are excited to marry, Ellie makes it clear that marriage as a way to demonstrate long-term commitment to someone is not something she values. It is something that she would like to experience but only as it compares to other once-in-a-lifetime adventures. Its only other value is economic. However, that does not appear significant enough to keep Ellie in a marriage for a lifetime, precisely because she does not value marriage.

Similar to Ellie, Jocelyn and Debbie also explain that obtaining material benefits from legal marriage is the only reason they would consider marriage. They similarly distance themselves from the romantic aspects of legal marriage that typically characterize the discourse (Ocobock 2024). Jocelyn is a 25-year-old Black woman who is frank about only marrying for an obvious and immediate access to material benefits.

I don’t actively want to get married, but I’m not completely closed off to the idea. I wouldn’t get married just for the sake of being in love with someone. If there was a material advantage for one or both of us in the union like tax benefits, money, health insurance, or citizenship then I would consider it… And if somebody stupid rich suddenly showed up in my life and wanted to pursue marriage with me, I would seriously consider it because of the benefit of accessing resources alone.

Debbie, a 32-year-old white woman, is also very direct in her intention to marry for material gain.

The only reason to get legally married would be for the legal and practical benefits that come with it. As an aroace person, traditional marriage has never felt desirable or applicable to me. I understand why other people do it on an intellectual level, and emotionally, I relate to the desire to enter into a contract of commitment with someone… Even if I found someone like that, at this point, I don’t like the idea of being monogamous. That could change as I get older and feel like I need material support from someone—if I have physical disabilities or illness—especially if my current network of close friends shrinks, which I hope doesn’t happen.

Debbie explains that legal marriage has never appealed because she is asexual. Yet, she further explains that she will only consider monogamy within the marriage she enters for material gain if she required caretaking from her partner. This seems somewhat different than Ellie and Jocelyn’s rationalizations about marrying for material gain. She distances herself both from the romance and monogamy that are typically expected of legally married couples. Yet it demonstrates that like Jocelyn and Ellie, Debbie also sees little value in marriage other than what she can gain from it.

Studies show that LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples are much more reluctant to discuss the benefits of marriage in these largely material terms (Ocobock 2024). Consequently, the frankness that the participants show about marriage being useful only for the material benefits it offers is important to interrogate. Legal marriage in the US has a long history of being used to deprive women of economic agency (Coontz 2005). With the recent shift toward more extreme right-wing politics, this history threatens to be repeated. Valuing marriage only for the economic and/or other material benefits it provides, then, flips the script, so to speak, to center women’s agency and resist patriarchal systems and norms. This is especially significant in a culture that demeans and marginalizes women who are vocal about their intent to only marry for material benefits (Collins 1990, 2004). Furthermore, the desire to marry only for material benefits challenges hegemonic scripts about marrying for love and commitment (Ocobock 2024). This challenge to hegemonic systems that oppress and marginalize also embodies the anti-assimilationist stance that characterizes the personal and political practices of queerness. These practices are also a challenge to heteorarchy.

4. Discussion

This study explored the marital desires and attitudes among young adult never married college-educated queer women of varying racial/ethnic backgrounds a decade after the legalization of same-sex marriage. Quantitatively, I found that the overall sample wanted to be legally married someday, but an important majority was also ambivalent about marriage. Additionally, women of color were more likely to desire marriage than their white counterparts. I also importantly found that women who wanted to be married highlighted the benefits and opportunities that marriage provided in their explanations for their marital desires. Women who were ambivalent about or rejected marriage, on the other hand, highlighted the drawbacks of the institution. Below, I discuss the potential explanations for these findings.

Quantitatively speaking, most queer women in this study want to legally marry in the future. This finding is not surprising, given that legal marriage remains a culturally significant institution in the US, despite the decline in marital rates. Ocobock (2024) demonstrates and argues that the institution of marriage is alive and well in the scripts and practices that govern romantic relationships in the US, even though marriage rates do not bear out that significance. She also importantly finds that there is quite a lot of pressure in the LGBTQ community for same-sex couples to marry. This study demonstrates that this pressure, coupled with the expectations that same-sex couples will practice the homoradical and queer marriage, may in fact facilitate desires for marriage among queer women. Legal marriage may also be appealing to queer women because heteroarchy still characterizes American society. Being in a same-sex relationship or marriage remains radical and political precisely because these relationships confront the heteronormativity and heterosexuality that remain the privileged default in the US. The US has not reached a stage where same-sex marriages and relationships are normalized in American society. In fact, the slide into right-wing extremist politics that has facilitated discussions about overturning the legalization of same-sex marriage demonstrates that these partnerships are still politically relevant, and that LGBTQ people and same-sex couples are not fully integrated or accepted into the fabric of American life.

Queer women in this study are also largely unsure if they want to be married or not. While they have critiques of legal marriage, it remains a possibility for them in the future. Queer women’s ambivalence about marriage is not that surprising, given that the rates of ever married young adults have been declining for the last 50 years (Bankey 2025). Queer women are living in a context where the institution of marriage remains significant, but this has not translated into an increase in marriage rates (Ocobock 2024; Cherlin 2009). Queer women may not feel any rush to think about marriage, given that their peers are not doing so either. Research also suggests that an increased educational attainment and financial independence among women contributes to the increase in the rate of never married young adults and the age at which people first marry (Oppenheimer 1988; Sassler and Lichter 2020). The queer women in this study are highly educated. Consequently, they may not feel the need to share financial resources with a partner. At the same time, the lack of financial resources matters for those who want a wedding celebration. Both queer and straight young adults put off marriage until they feel financially secure enough to afford a wedding (Hoy and Pokhrel 2025; Cherlin 2009). Although the research shows a decline in never married rates among young adults, it also shows an increase in first marriage rates among middle-aged individuals (Bankey 2025). This research not only suggests that middle age is when individuals are more likely to secure the financial resources they need to have a wedding, but also that it is taking longer—beyond young adulthood—to achieve the financial security one needs to be able to afford a wedding celebration.

This research then suggests that age may also explain why young adult queer women are ambivalent about marriage. They may be unsure about marriage now because they do not feel the financial pressure to marry, or they do not feel financially secure enough to marry. However, these feelings may change as they age and have different financial and/or romantic needs. Yet queer women may also remain ambivalent about marriage into their middle age because the largely structural drawbacks of marriage they described in this study do not seem to be changing rapidly and may even be getting worse.

This research also illustrates that women of color are more likely to desire marriage than white women. Additionally, I find that women who want to marry highlight the benefits of marriage to explain their desires for marriage. Similar to other studies, I find that queer women see marriage as an opportunity to celebrate their full humanity, to receive the social validation that LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples have been denied for decades in the US), and to “queer” marriage through the embrace of the homoradical (Kimport 2013, 2014; Robinson and Frost 2023; Ocobock 2024). Different from other studies, however, respondents in this study seem to imply that the desire to queer marriage is a necessary part of desiring marriage. Individuals must have both. Furthermore, the opportunity to queer marriage further motivates their desires to marry someday. As other scholars argue, a desire to queer or do marriage in ways that challenge heteronormativity and mononormativity are political stances that characterize same-sex marriage as radical. They also importantly, to varying degrees, embody the anti-assimilation that characterizes queer personal and political practices (Ocobock 2024; Maine 2022; Bernstein and Taylor 2013).

It is not surprising that queer women who want to marry someday highlight the advantages of legal marriage from their perspective. To understand why they do so, it is important to consider how gender intersects with race, sexuality, and class. The intersectional framework illuminates that highlighting the benefit of legal marriage serves several purposes in terms of helping queer women to navigate intersecting oppressions that remain relevant for their lived experiences. First, it allows queer women to potentially access an important middle-class marker via marriage, without compromising the politics and personal practices that define the anti-assimilationist stance of queer identity. Queer women plan to queer their marriage through an embrace of the homoradical. The embrace of the homoradical allows them to access middle-class status, where class can also improve their outcomes and lived experiences. However, they can do so without endangering the politics of queerness. Second, an embrace of the homoradical not only gives them permission to marry; it demands that they queer marriage. Queering marriage resists and challenges heteroarchy. Consequently, queer women can claim middle-class status, these class benefits, and marital benefits without compromising their identity as queer.

Women of color are more likely to want to legally marry than white women. They too emphasize the benefits and opportunities that legal marriage provides. This emphasis allows them to potentially claim middle-class status and its benefits without compromising access to resources for navigating white supremacy and the conferral of respectability that legal marriage offers in their respective racial/ethnic communities. It additionally allows them to resist heteroarchy in ways that do not compromise any of their other intersecting identities. Queer women of color must navigate heteroarchy inside and outside in their respective racial/ethnic communities and racism from outside their communities (Franke 2016; Acosta 2013; Dang and Hu 2005; Han et al. 2014; Chou 2012; Moore 2010). Moreover, these communities of color often provide resources that help community members better navigate racism (Chou 2012; Moore 2011). Similar to larger American society, marriage confers respectability and acceptance among some racial/ethnic groups as well (Lee 2021). Consequently, women of color may desire marriage because they can use it as a stigma management strategy that minimizes the stigma they experience due to their sexuality in their communities and in doing so, also gain greater access to community resources that facilitate their navigation of racism, without compromising their class or sexuality identities (Lee 2021). Class status is also an important factor for women of color. Studies demonstrate that although people who are middle class and racial/ethnic minorities still face racism, their class status and financial resources can shield them from some class oppressions that could exacerbate the negative consequences of racism (Feagin and Sikes 1995; Lacey 2007; Claytor 2020). Consequently, queer women of color can obtain access to important resources that help them to navigate heteroarchy, racism, and classism without compromising their sexual identities.

Unsurprisingly, women who were ambivalent about or who never want to be married highlight the disadvantages of legal marriage. These explanations include the gender inequality within marriage that primarily negatively impacts women, the state regulation of marriage that constrains the options individuals have for organizing their romantic relationships, and the financial and emotional costs of navigating the wedding industrial complex. With the exceptions of the costs related to the wedding industrial complex, these findings are similar to other studies that also identify these explanations for the ambivalence about and/or rejection of marriage among LGBTQ individuals and same-sex couples.

Importantly, these explanations also echo the concerns that marriage pluralists raised about the legalization of same-sex marriage. This suggests that these concerns remain relevant for queer women as they consider the desire for marriage a decade after the legalization of same-sex marriage. Additionally, the perseverance of these concerns not only demonstrates that same-sex marriage has not alleviated these issues, but also that it has not fundamentally altered the anti-assimilationist and resistance politics that defined queerness prior to 2015, as marriage pluralists feared it would. Indeed, queer women in this study who are ambivalent about or do not want to marry have accurately also identified the wedding industrial complex as another consequence of legal marriage that they should resist. That the emphasis on the disadvantages of legal marriage reflects arguments against marriage equality prior to the legalization of same-sex marriage in 2015 solidifies their identity as queer, demonstrates that the practices and politics of queerness are quite resilient in the face of the legalization of same-sex marriage among never married young adult women, and also illustrates a resistance to heteroarchy (Bernstein and Taylor 2013; Ettelbrick [1989] 2004; Duggan 2002).

5. Conclusions

That queer women highlight the benefits and drawbacks of legal marriage suggests that they may not feel they have achieved complete inclusion and acceptance in larger American society, even though same-sex marriage is legal. Ocobock (2020) finds that married same-sex couples must still navigate the social stigma that they thought would be alleviated by marriage. I argue this is because heteroarchy—the system that privileges heterosexuality and heteronormativity—remains relevant in US social norms and institutions. The legalization of same-sex marriage changed the law, but it changed nothing else about a system of power that rewards heterosexuality and heteronormativity.