Arranged Consent: The Oxymoron We Live With

They called it an arrangement. She experienced it as a slow erasure of everything she wanted to become.

The Proposal That Wasn't a Question

The proposal didn’t come with a question mark. It arrived as a statement: *"We have found a good match for you."*

By the time she was "introduced" to him, the conversations were already done. Families had met. Horoscopes had been matched. Expectations had been aligned. All that was left was for her to smile at the right time and say yes.

Everyone spoke about her consent as if it already existed. No one paused long enough to ask what she actually wanted.

Consent Under Pressure

Could she have said no? Technically, yes. Practically, no.

No would have meant disappointing her parents. No would have meant being ungrateful after everything they had "done" for her. No would have meant being labelled difficult, selfish, or worse—corrupted by Western ideas.

Her silence was interpreted as agreement. Her hesitation was framed as nerves. Her questions were dismissed as overthinking.

The Psychology of Being a 'Good Daughter'

Years of conditioning had taught her that a good daughter cooperates. A good daughter doesn’t make things harder. A good daughter understands "how things work" and adjusts.

So she adjusted. She told herself it wasn’t that bad. He was "nice enough." His family was "educated." Their families "got along."

She wasn’t choosing a partner. She was choosing the least disruptive option.

When the Body Knows Before the Mind

In the weeks leading up to the wedding, her body started screaming before her mind could catch up—migraines, nausea, insomnia. She woke up with a racing heart and went to bed with a knot in her stomach.

Everyone said it was "normal pre‑wedding anxiety." She tried to believe them.

But on the inside, she knew this wasn’t nervousness about a big day. It was grief for a life she was quietly abandoning.

Redefining Consent

It took her years to call it what it was: not quite forced, but not truly chosen either.

She is learning that real consent is not just the absence of a loud no. It is the presence of a clear, unfearful yes.

She wishes someone had told her that before the invitations were printed.

Where She Is Now

She is still unpacking that decision—how much of it was hers, how much of it belonged to everyone else. She is learning to forgive the younger version of herself who didn’t yet have the language or courage to resist.

Most of all, she is learning that her life doesn’t have to remain defined by a decision she made under pressure. She can still choose herself, even if it’s years later.