Is the search for perfection delaying marriage in Singapore?

My parents’ marriage was not an easy one. They argued often when I was growing up – over money, parenting, and the pressures of everyday life.

But when my mother became seriously ill, I saw my father stay with her through hospital visits, long nights, and caregiving routines. It was a source of comfort and assurance to her, such that even when others were present, she would still look for him. His presence carried deep meaning for her, built over decades of shared life. 

After her passing, traces of her remain in his habits – in his routines, preferences and the way he speaks of her. Their marriage was not defined by the absence of difficulty. It was defined by a willingness to stay through the difficulty.

But I see fewer couples practise that today. Instead we see marriage quite differently, which is shaping family formation and whether we even stay in relationships. Take this interesting paradox. Singapore’s fertility rate has fallen to a historic low of 0.87. Yet surveys continue to show that many young Singaporeans still hope to marry and have children one day.

In my experience, the issue is not that young Singaporeans no longer value marriage. It is that marriage is increasingly seen as something to enter into only when one feels fully ready.

A 2024 Institute of Policy Studies survey found that while many young Singaporeans still hope to marry eventually, seven in 10 felt marriage was not necessary for adulthood. Marriage is no longer treated as a default life stage. Instead, it is approached as a major life decision that must satisfy multiple conditions before a commitment is made. 

Today, marriage is expected to deliver emotional intimacy, companionship, financial stability, successful parenting and personal fulfilment – while also fitting into two demanding careers and an exhausting pace of life. As expectations rise, so does the threshold for entry. Questions previous generations often worked through within marriage are now expected to be resolved beforehand – including can we afford the lifestyle we want? Will children derail our careers? Are we emotionally compatible enough? What if the relationship becomes unhappy years later?

If these questions cannot be answered with confidence, marriage is deferred. And delayed marriage often means delayed parenthood – or no parenthood at all.

Certainty becomes the entry condition

This expectation of certainty does not disappear after marriage. It shapes how couples interpret normal difficulties once they are in it.

In my counselling work, I see this recurring pattern. Take one couple – Howie and Jane (whose names have been changed). They had done what many believe is the responsible thing. In their 30s, they built stable careers, became financially secure, discussed parenting plans and waited until they felt ready.

After marriage, the pressures started to surface. Long working hours left both exhausted. Small disagreements over routines and responsibilities became more frequent. After the children came along, parenting decisions and family expectations added further strain. 

None of this was unusual to older married couples. What appears to have changed is how young couples interpreted and approached these difficulties.

Because marriage had been entered with the belief that the “right” relationship should feel secure, normal tensions now feel like evidence of a wrong choice that got Howie and Jane asking themselves whether they made the wrong choice in getting married. 

This shift – from working through difficulty to treating it as proof of incompatibility – is becoming more commonplace. It reflects a broader cultural tendency in Singapore to approach major life decisions – from education, career to housing and parenthood – through a planning mindset aimed at reducing uncertainty before commitment. Marriage is increasingly evaluated in the same way. 

Tackling strain

The Government’s decision to convene a new marriage and parenthood task force reflects growing concern over Singapore’s family formation trends and record-low fertility.

Financial incentives and housing support are important, but they have not reversed the broader trend of declining fertility. This suggests that the decision to form a family is not purely economic. 

The deeper issue is whether young Singaporeans feel their relationships are resilient enough to withstand the pressures of marriage and parenthood. Policy responses therefore should consider the larger cultural changes undergirding family formation and fresh challenges young couples today face.

Undeniably, a key area is marriage preparation. Premarital support often focuses on compatibility and communication. We could help couples understand that disagreement, adjustment and uncertainty are normal in marriage – rather than signs of incompatibility or failure. 

People should also be prepared for the reality that certain life transitions are inherently stressful. Moving house, changing jobs, becoming parents or caring for both children and ageing parents often place significant strain on relationships. Couples can benefit from understanding that such periods of stress are not unusual and are often part of the adjustment process as families adapt to new routines and responsibilities. 

Marriage preparation should also include practical skills such as navigating differences in values, negotiating priorities, managing conflicts and recognising when to seek support. Asking for help should not be seen as a sign of failure, but as a normal part of sustaining healthy relationships – whether through family and friends or professional services. Initiatives such as the Ministry of Social and Family Development’s Strengthening Families Programme, which provides free marital and family counselling, help to normalise support-seeking before difficulties become crises. 

Importantly, these conversations should not begin only when couples are preparing for marriage. Helping young people develop realistic expectations about relationships, family life and help-seeking could start much earlier, such as during the pre-university and university years, before long-term commitments are even on the horizon.

Another area is workplace norms. Long working hours and constant connectivity leave couples with little emotional capacity to handle normal relational strains. Even strong relationships can come under added pressure when both parties feel perpetually exhausted. 

Clearer boundaries between work and personal life matter because they give couples the time and mental space to communicate, resolve disagreements and support one another. Relationships require time and attention to be sustained, yet these are often the very resources squeezed by the demands of modern work.

Employers and policymakers therefore both have a role to play in creating a more family-supportive environment. Flexible work arrangements, support for caregiving responsibilities and workplace cultures that respect time outside work can help couples invest in their relationships rather than constantly juggling competing demands.

More fundamentally, Singapore may need to move beyond being merely child-friendly towards being genuinely family-centric, recognising that strong families are built not only through support for children, but also through support for the relationships that sustain them.  

Obviously, a recalibration of how marriage is culturally understood is also needed.

Marriage is not a relationship that begins with certainty and remains stable throughout. It is a commitment that involves periods of tension, adjustment, compromise and repair.

This is why the phrase “for better or worse” in marriage vows remains relevant. It is a realistic reminder that marriage is entered without full certainty, and sustained through adaptation rather than pre-screened perfection.

Young people in Singapore still believe in marriage. But we may be mistaken if we do not help them rethink what marriage is – that is, not something that must be guaranteed not to fail before it is entered, but a commitment that two people grow through together.