Should I Get Married? Understanding Covenant vs Contract Marriage
- Brian Tohana
- Oct 21, 2025
- 17 min read
Why get married (or not)?
Most people drift into marriage because it's "the next step." You've been dating for a while, you love each other, your families expect it, all your friends are doing it. So you get engaged, plan a wedding, and sign the papers.
But here's what almost nobody stops to consider: Why are you actually getting married?
What are you committing to? And are you ready for what marriage actually requires?
This isn't about whether you love your partner. Of course you do. This is about understanding what you're signing up for and whether you're willing to do what's necessary to make it work.
Because here's the uncomfortable truth: Most people aren't ready for marriage when they get married.
Not because they don't love each other enough. But because they don't understand what marriage actually is, what it requires of you, and what makes it last versus what makes it dissolve.
This article is your pause button. Your chance to deeply reflect before you make a commitment that will either become the most transformative relationship of your life or the most painful mistake you ever make.
What's the real purpose of marriage anyway?
Let's start with what marriage is NOT:
It's not a way to prove your love. It's not about the wedding day or the Instagram photos. It's not about tax benefits or making your parents happy. It's not about locking someone down so they don't leave.
Marriage is a crucible for personal growth.
It's the most intense personal development work you'll ever do, disguised as a romantic relationship. Marriage will expose every underdeveloped part of you, every blind spot, every immature reaction pattern, every place where you're still operating like a wounded child instead of a conscious adult.
Your partner will trigger you in ways no one else can. They'll bring out the worst in you all the immature parts that blame, defend, avoid responsibility, act out when hurt, punish when disappointed.
And here's the thing: You have to grow through that. You have to mature into the marriage.
It doesn't just happen automatically because you love each other. You have to actively create it by becoming a better person. By facing your dragons, your rigidity, your ego, the parts of you that resist growing up.
This is a high calling. Most people aren't ready for it because they don't even know this is what marriage is.
What's the difference between a contract marriage and a covenant marriage?
Most modern marriages are built on contract thinking — even if people don't realize it:
"I'll love you as long as you meet my needs." "I'll stay as long as it works for me." "If you break the deal, I'm out."
This is transactional. Conditional. Based on performance and fairness. My rights come first. I safeguard my own interests. If you stop holding up your end, the deal is off.
Covenant marriage is fundamentally different:
"I'm here even when it's hard." "I choose us, I fight for the team, not just me or you."
Covenant isn't conditional on your partner's performance. It's a promise rooted in faithfulness, not simply feeling “in love”. It's laying down your egoic fight and increasing your responsibilities. It's safeguarding your partner's heart, not just your own interests.
Here's the key difference:
Contract says: "I love you because you love me and meet my needs." Covenant says: "I love you because I choose to. I choose to live in integrity with my values, to showing up to our marriage and being the best version of myself, especially when things get hard."
Covenant marriage is a high calling, it requires impeccable integrity and leadership, practicing what you preach, leading by example, and going first instead of waiting for your partner to change.
Why do most marriages fail?
Because people enter with contract thinking but expect covenant results.
They want unconditional love, but they're only willing to give conditional commitment. They want their partner to stick around through the hard times, but they keep one foot out the door "just in case."
Most marriages fail because:
1. People don't understand what they're committing to. They think marriage is an upgraded version of dating. It's not. It's a completely different structure that requires you to function as "we" instead of "me."
2. They're unprepared for the growth marriage demands. When your partner triggers your worst reactions, you use them as an excuse to be your worst self instead of recognizing this as your growth edge.
3. They operate from contract thinking while hoping for covenant outcomes. You can't have it both ways. Contract marriages are fragile — two imperfect people demanding perfection from each other. Covenant marriages are durable — two imperfect people extending grace.
4. They don't know how to repair. Conflict is inevitable. But unresolved conflict is corrosive. Most couples never learned how to truly repair emotional wounds, so hurt compounds infinitely until someone reaches their limit.
What does it actually take to make a marriage work?
Let's be brutally honest about what's required:
Emotional maturity. The capacity to self-regulate when triggered instead of blaming your partner for your reactions. The ability to own your contributions to disconnection instead of keeping score about who's more at fault.
Psychological flexibility. The willingness to hold paradox — I'm a good person AND I hurt you. You're safe for me AND you scare me sometimes. We love each other AND we're terrible together right now.
Commitment to repair. Not just saying "sorry" but actually healing emotional wounds such that their charge dissolves completely. This takes intentionality, skill, and humility.
Death of ego. Covenant marriage requires what sounds dramatic but is literally true: the death of two separate wills to birth one union. Marriage is the funeral of ego and pride. When you refuse to die to self, the marriage dies.
Grace as a foundational principle. You will hurt each other. Not through malice, but through the inevitable collisions of two imperfect humans. Covenant makes space for human failure without dissolving the commitment.
This is why covenant isn't for everyone. It's harder. More demanding. More permanent. You can't just walk away when things get hard, when feelings fade, when someone more attractive comes along.
Am I emotionally mature enough to get married?
Here's how you know if you're ready:
Can you take responsibility for your impact without making yourself the villain? When your partner says "you hurt me," can you respond with "tell me more about how I hurt you" instead of "that's not what I meant"?
Can you hold the paradox that you're a good person who sometimes does hurtful things? Or do you collapse into shame or defensiveness when faced with feedback?
Can you work through your resistance to empathy? When you're hurt, can you still cross the street and understand what it's like to be your partner? Or do you get stuck in "I'm right, you're wrong"?
Do you use your partner as an excuse to be your worst self? "You made me yell." "If you weren't so sensitive, I wouldn't have to walk on eggshells." This is victim thinking. Mature people recognize: my partner triggers me, but I'm responsible for my reactions.
Can you repair after conflict? Not just apologize, but actually join your partner in their pain, validate their subjective experience, and restore felt connection?
If you're answering "no" to most of these, you're not ready for marriage. That's not a judgment. It's honest feedback. You have growing to do first.
What parts of myself will marriage expose?
Everything you haven't dealt with yet. And you don’t know what you don’t know.
Your attachment wounds from childhood. Your fear of abandonment or engulfment. Your ways of controlling or people-pleasing to feel safe. Your rage when you feel powerless.
Your shutdown when overwhelmed. Your manipulation when you can't get what you want directly.
Marriage is like a mirror that reflects back all your underdeveloped parts. Your partner becomes your most triggering teacher because they have access to your heart in ways no one else does.
When they don't follow through on something small, it's not actually about the thing. It's what it represents: "Can I rely on you when it really counts? Do I matter enough to you? Are you really there for me when I need you?"
This is your attachment system constantly probing for security. And every perceived failure to show up triggers the deeper question: "Am I safe with you?"
Marriage will expose:
Where you blame instead of taking responsibility
Where you criticize instead of making requests
Where you defend instead of empathize
Where you punish instead of repair
Where you avoid instead of engage
Where you explode or shutdown instead of communicate
All of it will come up. That's the point. Marriage isn't supposed to be comfortable. It's supposed to help you grow into a better human being.
How does marriage force you to grow?
You're no longer in separate kayaks, paddling your own way. You're in the same canoe now. When one person rocks the boat, the other feels it.
This means:
Your actions impact someone else directly. You can't just do whatever you want without considering how it affects your partner. This is the shift from "me" to "we."
You have to develop skills you might not have naturally. Conflict resolution. Emotional regulation. Empathy. Communication. Repair. These aren't optional nice-to-haves. They're requirements.
You face yourself constantly. When you get hurt or triggered, you can't just leave or ghost or move on to someone easier. You have to stay and work through it. This forces you to examine your own reactivity instead of blaming your partner for it.
You're held accountable by commitment. In covenant marriage, you don't have easy exit ramps. This means you have to learn to repair instead of replace, to work through instead of walk away. That’s the point.
You discover your capacity for grace. When your partner hurts you and you extend empathy anyway. When they fail and you respond with compassion instead of contempt. This is how you both grow.
The growth isn't comfortable. It requires humility, vulnerability, courage, and willingness to be wrong. But on the other side of that discomfort is deeper intimacy, aliveness, vitality, peace, and harmony.
What happens when you resist the growth marriage requires?
Your marriage dies. Maybe not legally. But emotionally, it becomes a shell.
When you refuse to die to self — to let go of your ego, your need to be right, your insistence on your own way — the marriage dies in its place.
Here's what resistance looks like:
Blame. "It's your fault we fight. If you would just change, we'd be fine."
Defensiveness. "I'm not the problem here. You're overreacting."
Stonewalling. "I'm done talking about this. There's no point."
Contempt. "You're so [dramatic/sensitive/difficult]. I can't believe I married you."
These are the Four Horsemen of relationship apocalypse (Gottman's research). And they all come from the same place: refusal to grow.
Refusing to see how you contribute to the pain of your partner. Refusing to take responsibility. Refusing to empathize. Refusing to repair. Refusing to be vulnerable. Refusing to humble yourself.
When both people resist growth, the marriage becomes a roommate situation at best, a toxic battleground at worst. You stay together out of convenience or fear or "for the kids," but the intimacy is gone. The connection is severed. You're two people living parallel lives, not partners building something together.
Why would I want to close the exit doors in marriage?
This sounds counterintuitive. Why would you trap yourself?
But here's what closing the exit doors actually does: It forces you to learn how to repair instead of replace.
When leaving isn't easy, when divorce isn't your go-to Plan B, you have to develop the skills to work through conflict. You have to learn how to come back to each other after rupture.
You have to build the muscles of repair, grace, forgiveness, humility and empathy.
Contract marriages keep exit doors wide open: "I'll stay as long as it works for me." This sounds like freedom, but it actually creates anxiety. You're never fully safe. You're always wondering if the next conflict will be the one that ends it.
Covenant marriages close the exit doors: "I'm not leaving." This sounds like constraint, but it actually creates profound safety. When you know your partner isn't going anywhere, you can be fully vulnerable. You can reveal all of yourself without fear that revelation will void the commitment.
Closing the exit doors means:
You stop evaluating whether your partner deserves continued commitment. You're building something you both understand is intended to be permanent.
You invest in long-term growth instead of short-term satisfaction. You're willing to weather hard seasons because you know you're in this for life.
You develop real intimacy. The security of "you're not leaving" allows for depth impossible in constantly-evaluated partnerships.
You build something that withstands difficulty. Every challenge you work through together strengthens the bond instead of threatening it.
The paradox is this: When you can't easily leave, you finally learn how to stay in a way that's actually generative. That might mean getting help from a professional. We’re not meant to do this alone.
What's the benefit of bringing spirituality into your relationship?
This is where covenant gets deeper than just commitment between two people.
Traditional covenant includes three elements: God, marriage, and spouse. Not just "you and me," but "you, me, and something larger than us."
Now, if you're not religious, stay with me. Because this principle applies whether you frame it as God, the Universe, your Highest Values, Life, or the sacred nature of partnership itself.
Here's what it does:
1. It makes the marriage bigger than both of you. You're not just committing to each other. You're committing to the relationship itself as something sacred worth protecting, because you understand how marriage or partnership is good for you.
2. It provides a third perspective. When you're both hurting and can't see clearly, you can ask: "What does our relationship need right now?
3. It creates accountability beyond feelings. When you don't feel like staying, when you're exhausted, when you want out — your commitment to something larger than your feelings keeps you anchored.
4. It transforms suffering into meaning. Contract marriages see challenges as failure. Covenant marriages see challenges as the refining fire that deepens intimacy and character.
5. It shifts from "you complete me" to "together we are transformed." You're not looking to your partner to fill your gaps. You're both being shaped into better humans through the fire of partnership.
For religious people, this explicitly involves God: "My actions are a response to God, not just reactions to you." The primary loyalty is #1 to God, #2 to the marriage, #3 to your spouse.
For non-religious people, this can be: "My actions are a response to my highest values, not just reactions to you." The primary loyalty is #1 my integrity, #2 our relationship, #3 my partner's needs.
Either way, you have something anchoring you that's bigger than your fluctuating emotions.
What's the difference between contract and covenant in practice?
Let me show you what this looks like in real life:
Contract: "If you keep treating me this way, I'm done." Covenant: "I'm not leaving. Let's figure out how to repair this."
Contract: "You hurt me, so now you deserve to hurt too." Covenant: "You hurt me. Help me understand what happened from your side."
Contract: "You promised you'd change. This proves you never will." Covenant: "You're struggling. How can I support you while also protecting myself?"
Contract: "The spark is gone. Maybe we're not right for each other." Covenant: "We're in a hard season. Let's reconnect intentionally."
Contract: "Maybe I chose wrong. Maybe I'd be happier with someone else." Covenant: "I made a choice. I honour that choice."
Contract: "This isn’t fair, pick up the slack." Covenant: "Let’s figure out how to do this better together."
Contract: Intimacy becomes reward or punishment based on behaviour. Covenant: Intimacy is a gift, an expression of union even when things are hard.
See the difference? Contract is about fairness, performance, and self-protection. Covenant is about faithfulness, forgiveness, empathy and teamwork.
How do I know if I'm ready for covenant marriage?
Ask yourself these questions honestly:
Can I commit to someone before I know exactly what that will require? Covenant means pledging faithfulness before you know all the ways you'll be tested.
Am I willing to stay when I don't feel like it? When you're exhausted, hurt, disappointed — can you choose the commitment over the feeling?
Can I extend grace repeatedly? Not permissiveness toward harm or condoning poor behaviour, but genuine forgiveness for human imperfection.
Am I prepared to let this relationship change me? To let my partner's feedback shape me? To face my own ugliness and grow through it?
Can I hold the tension of loving someone while being hurt by them? Can I validate their pain even when I disagree with their perspective?
Am I willing to repair instead of replace? When conflict happens, is my instinct to work through it or to consider if this person is "worth it"?
Do I want to build something that lasts? Not just for emotional security, but because I believe there's value in lifelong partnership?
If you're answering yes to most of these, you might be ready for covenant.
If you're answering no, that's okay. Contract relationships have their place. Or maybe you're not ready for marriage at all yet. Better to know now than to discover it five years and two kids into a commitment you weren't prepared for.
What if my partner and I disagree about covenant vs contract?
This is a critical conversation to have before marriage.
If one person wants covenant and the other wants contract, you're building on incompatible foundations. One person is saying "I'm all in forever" while the other is saying "I'm in as long as it works."
That mismatch will create constant tension:
The covenant person will feel anxious that their partner might leave
The contract person will feel pressured by expectations of unconditional commitment
Every conflict will carry the subtext: "Are you going to use this as a reason to leave?"
You need alignment on:
What are we actually promising each other? Forever? Until it stops feeling good? Until someone better comes along?
What does commitment mean to each of us? Conditional or unconditional? Based on performance or based on sacred vows?
How do we handle hardship? As dealbreakers or as challenges to grow through together?
What role does something larger than us play? (God, Universe, Divine Intelligence, shared values, the sacred nature of partnership)
What are our actual vows? What are we actually “proposing”? Not just the words at the wedding, but what we're genuinely committing to stay in integrity with?
If you can't align on these fundamentals, don't get married. You'll spend your whole marriage fighting about the nature of the commitment itself rather than building something together.
Can a marriage survive without covenant commitment?
Technically, yes. Legally, you can stay married with contract thinking.
But here's what happens:
You become scorekeepers instead of partners. "I gave up this for you, so you owe me." "I did this, so you should do that." Everything becomes transactional and triggers are all about “fairness”.
You live in constant evaluation mode. "Is this still working for me? Am I getting enough out of this? Should I stay or should I go?"
You develop resentment from self-betrayal. Because contract marriages require saying yes when you mean no, giving when you don't want to, and then holding it against your partner.
You end up emotionally divorced while legally married. Two people living parallel lives in the same house, more like roommates than lovers.
Or you actually divorce. Because when things get hard (and they will), contract thinking provides the exit ramp: "This isn't working for me anymore."
Some contract marriages last because the contract keeps working for both people. But they rarely achieve the depth, intimacy, and transformation that covenant marriages can reach.
Because covenant marriages aren't just about surviving. They're about thriving, growing, being refined by the fire of partnership into better humans.
What makes covenant marriage different from just "staying together"?
This is important. Covenant isn't just staying in misery "because I made a promise."
Covenant with abuse is not covenant — it's enabling. If your partner is abusive (physically, emotionally, sexually, financially), they've already broken the covenant. Leaving doesn't violate covenant. The abuser destroyed it.
Covenant requires mutuality. Both people have to be committed to honoring, cherishing, and protecting each other. If one person abandons their responsibility, you're not in covenant anymore.
Covenant includes repair. It's not "stay no matter what with no change." It's "commit to growing through challenges with mutual good faith."
The difference between covenant and just enduring is this:
Enduring: "I'm staying even though nothing changes and I'm miserable." Covenant: "I'm staying AND we're both actively working to repair, grow, and create something life-giving."
Covenant is staying with intentionality. With skills. With community support. With genuine commitment to making the relationship work for both people, not just surviving it.
If your partner refuses to repair, refuses to grow, refuses to take responsibility — you haven't abandoned covenant by protecting yourself. They abandoned it first.
What does covenant marriage require from me daily?
Here's the hard truth: Covenant is a choice you make over and over again. Not once at the altar, but every single day.
Daily covenant looks like:
Choosing to repair after conflict instead of letting hurt compound. When you fight, you come back and clean it up. You don't go to bed angry and hope it resolves itself.
Extending grace when your partner fails. They forgot something important. They snapped at you. They disappointed you. Can you respond with compassion instead of contempt?
Managing your own reactivity. When triggered, can you self-regulate instead of immediately blaming them for how you feel?
Prioritizing "we" over "me." When making decisions, considering not just "what do I want" but "what serves our partnership"?
Staying curious about your partner. Not assuming you know everything about them. Continuing to ask questions, to learn, to grow in understanding.
Protecting the relationship from erosion. Not letting resentment build. Not venting to others instead of addressing issues directly. Not cultivating escape fantasies.
Choosing vulnerability over self-protection. Letting your partner see your fears, your wounds, your needs — even when it's scary.
Honoring your commitment especially when you don't feel like it. On the hard days, reminding yourself: I chose this. I honor this choice.
This is work. Real work. Daily work. That's why it requires emotional maturity, psychological flexibility, and genuine commitment to growth.
How do I know if marriage is worth it for me?
Only you can answer this. But here are the questions that matter:
Do I want to be shaped by another person? Not controlled, but influenced. Challenged to grow. Held accountable to become my best self.
Am I willing to put someone else's wellbeing on par with my own? Not above it or below it, but truly equal. What serves us, not just what serves me.
Do I believe there's value in lifelong partnership that goes beyond personal happiness? Some people don't. They see relationships as serving their individual fulfillment. That's fine. But covenant marriage requires believing the partnership itself has worth beyond what it gives you personally.
Am I ready to face all my underdeveloped parts? Marriage will surface every immature reaction, every wound, every defense. Are you willing to do that inner work?
Do I want to build something that lasts? Not just a feeling, but an actual legacy. A relationship that weathers decades. A partnership that becomes the foundation for family, community, impact.
Can I find meaning in difficulty? Because marriage will be difficult. The question is: will you see that difficulty as failure or as the refining fire that makes you better? That has you ultimately gain something that you couldn’t otherwise?
If your answer to most of these is yes, covenant marriage might be for you.
If your answer is no, maybe marriage isn't right for you at all. Or maybe you need more time to develop the maturity marriage requires.
There's no shame in either answer. The shame is in lying to yourself, drifting into marriage unconsciously, and then blaming your partner when it doesn't work.
Should I get married?
After everything we've explored, here's my answer: Only if you're willing to do what's required.
Marriage isn't just upgraded dating. It's not just living together with a legal document. It's not just having a partner to split bills and responsibilities with.
Marriage is a crucible for transformation.
It will expose everything about you that needs to grow. It will trigger your wounds, activate your defenses, surface your immaturity. And then it will ask you to choose growth over comfort, repair over replacement, "we" over "me."
If you're not ready for that, if you want a relationship that makes you happy without demanding you change, don't get married yet.
But if you're willing to be shaped by partnership, to let someone see all of you and love you anyway, to weather the storms together and come out stronger, then covenant marriage might be the most meaningful work you ever do.
Not because it's easy. But because it challenges you to transform.
FAQs About Covenant Marriage
Is covenant marriage only for religious people? No. While the concept has religious roots, anyone can embrace covenant principles: unconditional commitment, grace, repair, and prioritizing the relationship over individual preferences.
What if I already feel trapped in my marriage? Feeling trapped is different from covenant commitment. Covenant creates safety, not prison. If you feel trapped, that's a sign something else is wrong (lack of repair skills, unaddressed harm, poor boundaries).
Can you switch from contract to covenant thinking? Yes, but both people have to be on board. It requires honest conversation about what you're actually committing to and willingness to approach the relationship differently.
What if my partner breaks the covenant? Covenant requires mutuality. If one person abandons their responsibility through abuse, addiction, or sustained betrayal without genuine repair — they've broken the covenant. You leaving doesn't violate it.
How do I know if someone is covenant-ready? Look for: emotional maturity, capacity to repair and empathize after conflict, willingness to take responsibility, ability to extend grace, commitment to growth, and alignment on what marriage actually means.
Isn't covenant marriage just codependency? No. Codependency is losing yourself for your partner. Covenant is choosing to honor your commitment while maintaining your sense of self. You're not merged, you're two individuals unified, that’s healthy interdependence.
Final Takeaway
Marriage is optional. But if you choose it, make it intentional.
Understand what you're committing to. Know what's required. Be honest about whether you're ready.
Because the greatest gift you can give your future partner isn't just your love. It's your willingness to grow, to repair, to choose them again and again even when it's hard.
That's covenant. And it's the foundation that transforms partnership from temporary to eternal.
If you're preparing for marriage or struggling to create the relationship you actually want, I can help. At Caring for Couples, I teach the skills that make covenant partnerships work.
👉 Book your free 20-minute consult to see if this approach is right for you.
👉 Check out my Repair Anything course to learn the process that helps couples move from resentment to reconnection.
You deserve a relationship built on intention, not just emotion. Let's create that together.
