‘And now, here I am, a wife’

By the time you’re reading these words, I’ll be a wife. 

Yup. On the 13 September 2025, I will have married my fiancé. I’m going to let you peek behind the curtain of Woman Alive for a moment and explain that for you, that’s in the past. But for me, sitting here with a wedding to-do list as long as my arm and three brands of fake tan on my body (I’m testing which one is the most durable – obviously), that date sits in the scarily near future.

I am hazily moving through my last days as Belle Tindall. Because, if you’re reading these words, I’ll actually be Mrs Belle Riley. Or maybe Tindall-Riley, if my feminism got the final say.

Either way, I’ll be married. 

It feels a little odd, writing about the reality of marriage to many who are likely to know so much more about it than I do. For me, it’s brimming with unknowns. Sam, aka Mr Riley, likens it to when he got baptised: he had zero idea what living a life with Jesus would actually entail, but he was sure on one thing – he wanted it. He told me that he feels similar now – unsure about what a life lived with me will entail, but sure of one thing – he wants it. And I do, too.  

(This is the one and only romantic thing he has ever said to/about me – so, I’d bet you a tenner that it’s the punchline of his wedding speech. I guess, by the time you’re reading this, I’ll know which one of us needs to pay up).

My journey with the idea of marriage

More recently, I’ve been wondering if such a stance is enough. As you know well by now, I am both a Christian (first and foremost) and a feminist. And, honestly? that makes the idea of marriage an interesting one for me. 

When I was single, I raged against the idea that marriage was some kind of ‘made-it’ moment. I resented the fact that everything else I had in my life was perceived as some kind of place-holder for a husband and children – as if every achievement or experience was a means to an end, not an end within themselves. And, you know what? I stand by the rage I feel toward such attitudes. As my friend, journalist, public speaker and author of author of Notes on Love: Being single and dating in a marriage obsessed Church,  Lauren Windle, often says: going from being single to being married is swapping one set of joys and challenges for another set of joys and challenges. There’s no element of hierarchy when it comes to relationship status.  

And so, being the fickle woman I am, I had quite a negative reaction to the idea – or rather, the presumption – that marriage is something that I should strive for. 

As Little Women’s Jo March famously reminds us: “women, they have minds and they have souls, as well as just hearts. And they’ve got ambition and they’ve got talent, as well as just beauty. And I’m so sick of people saying that love is just all that a woman is fit for. I’m so sick of it.” 

Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if I recite that in my sleep. 

Then there was the whole messaging around what a ‘biblical’ marriage is. As you can imagine, I could get on board with those ideas even less. Are you telling me, good and well-meaning people, that I can enjoy direct access to the guidance of God – living in step with him, moving when he tells me to move and halting when he tells me to halt – only until I find a husband who can do the listening to God for me? Who will lead me in a way that God always has? Who will take the burden of discernment upon his male shoulders?

Have God and I been an insufficient duo? Do I need a go-between? 

It’s totally cool if you feel differently, but there was, and is, nothing about such ideas that sits comfortably for me. 

So, you see, marriage equals complicated.

A new adventure  

Then I met and began to adore a man called Sam. We started talking about marriage, and I realised that I wanted it. Not as an abstract concept, per se, but as an adventure with him.

And now, here I am, a wife. 

I’ve had to do a lot of processing to get from A to B – from Belle Tindall to Belle Riley. I had to trust God when he said that marriage is – or at least, can be – a really good thing. Certainly not a better thing, but also not a worse thing. And while I need to reiterate that, for me, marriage is bursting at the seams with unknowns, I feel pretty confident that if I ever feel as if Sam is getting between me and God, something may be wrong. What if it isn’t about Sam leading me, but joining me? And me joining him? Surely I can’t turn my nose up at the invitation to witness what God unfolds in Sam’s life; what he does for him, through him, within him.

While I certainly haven’t ‘made it’ by getting married this past month, maybe I have entered something special with Sam. Something holy, even. 

There’s a part of me that wants to roll my eyes at myself, but there’s another part that’s up for this new adventure.