Is Marriage Really the Prize? Thoughts After Watching Fences… Again

Growing up, I was surrounded by marriage. My parents were married. My aunts and uncles were married. My best friends’ parents were married. It seemed like everyone I knew was linked up—and that was just normal. If you’re an ’80s baby like me, you probably remember how marriage was portrayed on TV: Cliff and Claire Huxtable, Carl and Harriette Winslow, Uncle Phil and Aunt Viv. These couples laughed, parented, and problem-solved in harmony—at least in our living rooms.

So naturally, I grew up thinking marriage was this ideal union—a man and a woman who share goals, dreams, and a life full of mutual enrichment. And as a spiritual person, I’ve always found the story of Adam and Eve profound. I mean, a rib? That’s deep. Whether you believe the story literally or metaphorically, the point is: Eve was made for Adam—that idea of being made for someone used to sound so romantic.

But now, at 44 and still single (yes, I know—amazing, beautiful, intelligent… I’ve heard it all), I re-evaluate what “forever” really means. Is marriage still the prize? Or have I just been conditioned to believe it is?

Cue: Fences.

I watched Fences again a couple of weeks ago, and let me just say—it never fails to take me through all the emotions. I adore Denzel Washington, but Lord knows I would happily push Troy Maxson down a flight of stairs. Every. Time. If you’ve never seen it, Fences is set mainly at the Maxson home, which I think is brilliant. The tight setting forces you to listen—really listen—to the characters. No distractions. Just raw, honest, sometimes soul-crushing dialogue.

Troy is a former baseball player turned garbage man. He’s bitter. He’s loud. He’s stuck in the past. And he blames everything and everyone for his failures—except himself. Though the film is set in the 1950s and rightfully addresses the impact of systemic racism, I couldn’t help but wonder: What would Troy’s life have looked like if he had just learned to be emotionally resilient? Pride and pain are a dangerous mix, especially when the people closest to you end up being your emotional punching bags.

Now let’s talk about Rose Maxson—the true MVP of this film.

Rose cooks. Cleans. Manages the money. Nurtures. She’s his peace when he’s ranting. His anchor when he’s drifting. She is calm when he’s chaotic. She is everything. And yet, all of it still wasn’t enough to keep Troy faithful, committed, or even appreciative.

It made me wonder: Can a woman be too good a wife?

Did Rose—like so many women—love so deeply that she disappeared inside the relationship?

Black women have carried the emotional labor of love and family on their backs for generations. We show up. We hold it together. We endure—often while silently falling apart.

There’s a moment in Fences that haunts me every time I watch it. After learning that Troy cheated and is expecting a child with another woman, Rose delivers a monologue so honest and raw it feels like your own soul has been cracked open. She says:

“I gave eighteen years of my life to stand in the same spot as you!”

That line? Devastating. And all too familiar.

We, as women, often stand in the same spot, hoping our love will be enough. Hoping our support, our loyalty, our prayers, our nurturing will somehow fix what’s broken in the men we love. We fall for potential. We pour into them even when the cup is cracked. But men? They don’t love potential. They love peace. Escape. Safety. That’s what Troy sought in another woman—not just sex, but a space where he could breathe, laugh, and be free from the weight of his disappointments.

But in doing so, he shattered Rose’s world.

He didn’t just cheat—he transferred his baggage to someone else and kept walking.

By the time the film ended, I sat there again, asking myself the same question: Is marriage still the prize, and here’s what I’ve come up with:

1. Prioritize Yourself. Always.

As women, especially Black women, we are taught that strength means sacrifice. But endurance shouldn’t come at the cost of your self-worth. Rose gave everything to her marriage until she had nothing left for herself. She believed “standing in the same spot” was love, when it was really stagnation. Don’t shrink in someone else’s shadow just to say you have love.

2. Being Strong Shouldn’t Be a Default Setting

We need to normalize rest, softness, emotional freedom, and boundaries. The “strong Black woman” trope might sound noble, but it’s exhausting. We are not rehab centers for broken men. Rose raised the child of her husband’s affair out of duty, not joy. That’s not strength—that’s self-sacrifice in its rawest form.

In Fences, the literal fence being built symbolizes many things.

For Rose, it’s protection—a way to hold her family close.

For Troy, it’s defense—a way to keep death and irrelevance at bay.

For me? That fence symbolizes emotional boundaries—a reminder that sometimes, the walls we build are the only things keeping us from breaking.

Rose loved her husband. But more than that, she lost herself in loving him.

So again, I ask:

Is marriage the prize? Maybe. But not at the cost of your identity.

Not at the cost of your voice.

Not at the cost of eighteen years in the same spot, waiting for someone else to realize your worth.