
Hear me out. As a divorced mother of two who was married for 13 years, I know first-hand that love isn’t always enough. Marriage is beautiful, yes. Making a family is beautiful, yes. But once you’re in the thick of it, it can also be messy, unpredictable, disappointing, and sometimes heartbreaking. I certainly wish I’d been more realistic about what I wanted and what would happen if I didn’t get it. So, the idea of going into it with some foresight is actually very smart.
Prenups, open conversations about finances, division of labor, parenting expectations—these are all healthy things to discuss before you’re knee-deep in broken hearts, resentment and legal fees. But there’s a fine line between preparation and paranoia, and thanks to a recent TikTok trend, I can safely say we’ve reached that very fine line.
A woman named Elle (@elluvalife) recently went viral after sharing the multiple “clauses” she and her husband wrote into their marriage agreement. Not a prenup. A full-blown contract packed with rules, restrictions, and surveillance. As someone who’s been through a marriage (and the dismantling of one), I found myself torn between appreciation and alarm.
Let’s start with their Spousal Political Alignment Clause. Basically, neither person is allowed to change their political or religious views for the duration of the marriage. Read that again. So if you evolve, shift your values, or simply grow up? Too bad. You signed that paperwork and you BETTER NOT change your vote.
I don’t know about you, but I’m not the same person I was at 27 when I got married. I’m not even the same person I was at 41 when I got divorced! Life, parenting, career shifts, and global events can all impact how we see the world. To freeze your beliefs in time for the sake of marital consistency feels not just unrealistic but deeply unhealthy. After all, isn’t the whole idea of marriage to say I’m going to love this person through all of the unexpected things life throws our way? We’re supposed to grow, especially with a partner.
Next up the newlywed TikTokker explained the Income Parity Requirement she and her new husband agreed to. According to their clause, both partners must earn roughly the same income throughout the marriage to avoid a financial “power imbalance.”
Now, I do understand the frustration of power dynamics rooted in money. I’ve lived through it as a stay-at-home mom for 8 years and I will tell you that expecting a permanent 50/50 split is simply not realistic. What happens when someone takes parental leave? Gets laid off? Goes back to school? Needs to care for a sick parent or child? Financial equality doesn’t always mean financial sameness and that’s a reality that needs to be accepted before saying “I do.”
Let’s move onto the next clause our TikTok bride boasted about. The Marriage Expiration Clause. YUP. You read it right. Every seven years, the couple’s marriage is up for renewal, unless both agree to continue. As someone who was married for 13 years (together for 17 years), I’ll admit… this one’s kind of fascinating.
Is it romantic? No. Is it refreshingly honest? Maybe. A LOT can happen in seven years. Some people really do outgrow each other. Some people learn that compromise is no fun and it’s never-ending. But isn’t that what therapy, communication, and compromise are for? Treating marriage like a driver’s license right out of that gate seems to miss the point completely.
But wait! There’s more! This is the one that really raised my eyebrows – the Marriage Suspension Clause. Either person can “pause” the marriage for three months every three years. No clear rules about what happens during that pause—just a break.
As someone who’s lived through separation and divorce, I can tell you: time apart is essential and can be VERY healing. But formalizing it as a regular reset button sounds more like a loophole than a solution. What about the things that take place during that 3 month pause? Is all forgiven and forgotten when the marriage resumes? Because, good luck with that.
And finally… wait for it… they monitor each other’s location and digital activity as part of a Surveillance-Based Relationship clause, and I have to call this one what it is, a straight-up symptom of marrying too young. And this is where I draw the line.
Trust is the absolute backbone of marriage. Point blank period. If you need to track your partner like a teenager with a curfew, maybe the issue isn’t about commitment. Maybe it’s about unrealized insecurities. Maybe it’s about control. Whatever it is, it’s most likely a recipe for disaster.
Once again, I’m not against planning ahead. I think going into a marriage with eyes wide open, and having assessed all the risks and rewards is the only way. After that, if these types of rules work for a couple, more power to them. But from where I sit, this contract feels less like a foundation for love and more like a prison with shared Wi-Fi. It’s giving me the ick.
Marriage isn’t about perfection. It’s about love, grace, change, forgiveness, and sometimes, rebuilding when things fall apart no matter how wildly the marriage you thought you’d have goes off-script. And I’d choose that again any day over a GPS-enabled, ideologically frozen, income-matching agreement any day.