I married for love—but also for money
It’s shocking how many perks the military married get.
I’m gonna be real with you. I never wanted to get married, and neither did my sweet husband, Jonny. The institution of marriage just didn’t jive with our loose, artsy, nomadic lifestyles; plus, we’ve both spent our entire adulthood giving the finger to social conventions of all stripes. Forging a stable career path? Who needs it. Monogamy? Fuck that. Marriage and kids? DON’T YOU TOUCH MY FREEDOM I’LL KILL YOU!
Needless to say, a lot of jaws dropped when we announced that we were getting married only a few months after we met.
Everyone assumed we’d let a whirlwind romance consume our better judgement, and we even went around saying obnoxious engaged-people things like, “When you know, you know.” The beatific smiles were just dripping off our faces.
Letting our friends and family see us as impulsive kids was easier than trumpeting the truth:
We got married because the U.S. Army would literally pay us if we did.
Flashback to summer 2019: I met Jonny, the free-spirited, guitar-strumming world traveler of my dreams. He’d been gallivanting through the ports of the world as a singer and guitarist on cruise ships for the past fifteen years. I was freshly back in New York City, my home since 2008, after spending a year and a half working as an actor and singer in Seoul, Korea.
We met two weeks before Jonny was scheduled to ship off to U.S. Army Basic Training. He’s a wee bit clairvoyant, you see, and in 2019, even with his cruise ship career making him more cash than ever for less work than ever, he had this strange, undeniable inner knowing that cruise ships wouldn’t be sustainable for much longer. He wanted something stable, something on land, something that would ensure a decent income and benefits no matter what world calamities might strike. (Thank you, Universe, for making my partner psychic AF.) He left his band of besties on the open seas and enlisted in the army as a guitarist. Yeah, you can play guitar for the military. Shredding for Uncle Sam. Who knew?
It was a whirlwind romance, though. I mean, I wouldn’t have married the cat if I didn’t believe we had what it took to make the whole life partnership thing work.
But neither one of us would’ve made this move if the army hadn’t provided such an enticing financial incentive.
You see, as a single enlisted soldier, Jonny would have earned only his base salary (which is not a whole lot), and he would have been forced to live in the military barracks. Think dorm rooms at a monastery. Basic and crowded, and oh, the occupants are expected to keep the whole place clean. Delightful. Imagine your university RA telling you to clean the bathrooms yourself. The soul shudders!
As a married enlisted soldier, on the other hand, Jonny would be expected to live with his spouse, either on base on free housing, or off-base in housing of his choice. And if he chose to live off-base, he would receive a tax-free housing allowance on top of his salary. This is basically extra money to pay rent or a mortgage payment, and it was nearly equal to his salary, almost doubling his monthly take-home pay. You see? I meant it literally: The military pays us for being married.
Now, I’m no stranger to military life. I grew up mostly on an army post in Seoul, Korea, thanks to my dad’s Air Force career. I knew about the benefits. I knew about the discounts. I knew about that sexy FREE health care. Mmmmm…free health care…*drool drool slurp*
Jonny asked me to marry them in a three-page letter written by hand from basic training, which was our only method of communication the entire ten weeks he was there. Cue the romantic music. And it was romantic. Deeply romantic.
But also eminently pragmatic.
Two pages of the letter were about how much he loved me and believed in us and wanted to take things all the way, which was heart-expanding and wonderful—and I felt the same way! But that alone wouldn’t have convinced me to let go of my aversion to the dreaded mawwiage. I mean, I’ve been railing against the smugness of The Married my whole life! This would be totally off-brand for me! My little libertine heart must fly freeeeee!
The third page of the letter was devoted to how the army would pretty much double Jonny’s salary if we got married, how I would then get free healthcare (again, droooooool), the ability to shop tax-free on military bases worldwide, access to military hotels and other amenities, free educational opportunities, and sexy discounts at all kinds of businesses.
Ding ding ding, and SOLD!
We’re not the only ones gaming the military system like this either. I can’t find any articles in the media about this, but the people Jonny went to basic training with were marrying their high school sweethearts and long-time SOs in droves, either just before or just after enlisting. The benefits make it worth it to marry a good friend, if you have one willing to put on a little show with you. It’s unreal how much that little piece of paper binding you for life can buy you.
And I get it—the idea is that a married soldier ostensibly has dependents to care for, and the military wants to make it easier for them to provide. That’s great!
But it also seems pretty unfair when you consider the difference in quality of life between single and married enlisted soldiers:
Single soldiers earn their base pay, which they pay taxes on, while married soldiers receive base pay plus a tax-free housing allowance that is often nearly as much as or equal to the base pay.
Single soldiers in the army are required to live in the barren barracks on base—these are deeply depressing living quarters, all cinderblocks and ugly camouflage colors—while married soldiers are allowed to rent apartments or houses off base, or even buy a home using the absolutely wonderful VA loan program, which basically lets you buy a home with no money. (That’s what we did. We had no real money, but we bought a beautiful house in May 2020, when every other artist couple in the world was struggling to pay rent.)
Single soldiers living on base are assigned mandatory times to clean the barracks and are restricted by curfews, while married soldiers are subjected to no such extra duties or limitations on their schedules.
Single soldiers are insulated in their lives on base, and are subjected to greater scrutiny of their activities and lifestyles. Married soldiers have more autonomy and privacy, as well as an enhanced ability to have a life outside of the military. This is wildly important for mental health, especially if one is a new-agey, guyliner-wearing musician who isn’t accustomed to a rigid, conservative military lifestyle.
It really doesn’t seem fair that something so silly and perfunctory as signing a marriage certificate should suddenly entitle you to so many tremendous perks. And this isn’t just in the military. The perks of marriage exist in the civilian world, too — tax breaks, insurance discounts, complimentary glasses of champagne at every anniversary dinner, and, of course, having your relationship be socially sanctioned at every turn. My parents are just over the moon! (Now, if I would just stop with the whole polyamory thing, not to mention the very loud bisexuality. My poor mom, lol.)
Is it fair that we put these legally contracted intimate partnerships on such a ridiculously high pedestal? Is it right that Jonny’s single coworkers, who do the same exact job as him, get literally half the pay that Jonny does and have to live in a depressing dormitory? Isn’t it just a little fucked up that my family—and society at large!—now respects and celebrates our relationship, when I am 100% sure they would not if we were just living together but not married? Ugh! This is why I hate The Married! All the undeserved celebration and benefits!
And now I’m one of them. Smh.
Ah well. Might as well clean up if I’m gonna sell out.