Swiping Left to 'I Do'

Is the silver wedding anniversary a dying breed?

As I write this article, my parents sit hand-in-hand, speeding across the English countryside courtesy of LNER Azuma, on their way to celebrate a relationship milestone. This week, they will have been married for 25 years. When I pause to think about it, the number is immense. They have been together three years longer than I have walked the planet, seen the rise and fall of seven Prime Ministers, the birth of almost fifteen royal babies, and the spectacle of half a dozen Olympic games.

This milestone is not unique to them. When I informed my friends of the upcoming anniversary, I found most of their parents had beaten mine to it. The majority had been Mr and Mrs for upwards of 30 years, a number I found astonishing when compared to my own limited experience in the world of dating. As I tried to imagine myself in the same position, zooming across the Midlands with my own partner on whatever futuristic contraption British Transport may dream up in the next 30 years, I drew a blank. Having grown up in a world where trends and technologies change with the seasons, is a life shared with one person even a possibility for our generation?

Marriage has been subject to immense change since the rise of feminism in the 1960s. As women’s attitudes to their personal freedom and economic independence evolved, so did their views on relationships. This change is reflected in the figures. Marriage rates in the UK have been in steady decline from the ’60s onwards, and in the past 30 years alone have dropped by over twenty per cent. Conversely, divorce rates are on the rise. We have all heard the somewhat crushing statement that one in two marriages end in divorce, perhaps we have even bitterly uttered it to ourselves when passing a particular smug couple in the run-up to Valentine’s Day. The figure is actually a little less than half, standing at 42 per cent. Yet what the numbers show is that marriage has been an endangered species long before the 21st Century, its environment changing by the continual decline of long-held societal values and traditions.

Yet arguably never have societal values stood in such stark opposition to long-term relationships as they do now. For Gen Z, the first generation to grow up with advanced, ever-changing technology at their fingertips, long-term commitments of any kind arguably prove challenging. One only has to look at the flickering trends, the TikTok videos, and ten-second Snapchats to see how fast-paced life is for our generation. To be interesting is to be punchy, flashing into our consciousness for one Mayfly-like day of glory before being blasted out by the next big thing.

The pattern is one reflected in our attitudes to dating. Take Tinder for example, which turns dating into a kind of Subway-Surfers-esque game, more a form of entertainment than any kind of meaningful social interaction. Players may swipe through dozens, if not hundreds of hopeful candidates in one sitting, chatting to any number of them, and in turn being one in a list of many. This form of dating, the norm for many in my generation, simply did not exist in the time of our parents and grandparents. Though dating many and multiple people, sometimes at the same time, has been largely acceptable in most parts of the Western world for some time, the sense of distance that arises from dating through a screen is entirely new. If falling in love is as simple as swiping left and right, isn’t falling out of love just as easy?

Yet it is not only our alarmingly short attention spans that have altered Gen Z’s attitude to relationships. In many ways, increasingly positive changes in both lifestyle and mindset have made a silver wedding anniversary unlikely for any of us. For one thing, we are a remarkably introspective group, with more members of Gen Z attending therapy than that of any other generation. We read self-help books, practice mindfulness and meditation, binge podcasts that encourage us to understand the more difficult parts of ourselves. As a generation that values self-love and improvement more than any other, it follows that we are likely to have higher standards when it comes to relationships.

Where our parents and grandparents may have swept conflicts and differences under the rug, we are more than happy to confront them head-on, and unafraid to walk away should we deem the strain on ourselves far too great. Emma Watson, though her phrasing is somewhat ridiculous, recently declared she is ‘married to herself’, and she is one in a long line of celebrities putting her relationship to Number One before any other. In many ways, any person prioritising their own self-fulfilment over pressures to enter in a relationship should be celebrated. Yet I also think it fair to say that this mindset may be something that holds our generation back. The ups and downs of a relationship can be a unique way of getting to know ourselves, bringing out qualities we did not know we possessed until called on by another person.

That is not to say we are a generation incapable of showing empathy and loyalty to others. In many ways, we have found fulfilment in places our parents and grandparents could not, and that in itself deserves recognition. We throw ourselves into careers, making hobbies and politics our passions, and giving to others through the personal sacrifices these commitments take. Not to mention the love we feel for teachers, siblings, and friends, whose time we can enjoy more without the distraction of a serious relationship. Where our parents may have lived with partners or spouses in their twenties, we live with flatmates our own age, old friends from home and uni, or new ones we meet as we go into the working world.

One only has to open Dolly Alderton’s 21st Century bible Everything I Know About Love to see the truth of this. Though she and her girlfriends go through dozens of partners throughout the memoir, they remain constant and loyal to each other. This love, not the love of a partner, is what she feels has been a lifeline during the turbulent, at times difficult years of her 20s. Yet at the same time, I believe we would be foolish to spurn whatever romantic opportunities may come our way, often when we least expect them. It seems likely that there will be fewer in our generation on the same journey as the one my parents embarked on 25 years ago, but don’t let this stop you from buying your ticket.

Illustration by Janya Malkani