Marry someone who is willing to travel with you

Introduction:
Is getting married really that important? What’s the real reason for marriage? Strip away all those conventional justifications—like needing to marry before a certain age to carry on the family line, or feeling obligated to marry because of parental or societal expectations, or the belief that getting married is just something everyone must do—and you get closer to the truth behind why marriage has become such a necessity in modern life.

Because when you love someone, you want to hold their hand through every joy and sorrow, no matter what, until we’re old and gray—or one of us is no longer breathing.

“The moment I thought about marriage was when his father passed away. He was in Orchid Island, and I was at Taitung Airport, desperate to be by his side. Because of the bad weather from the cold front, the counter staff insisted that only partners or family members could get priority for emergency seats...”

Shushu, a girl from Tainan, decided to get married at the age of 24. Over the course of three years of marriage, she found the meaning of marriage in her own heart.

Text and photos /Shushu

Before getting married, I was a girl who loved to travel everywhere.
At 18, I went to Orchid Island for a work-stay program, where I met many friends who had volunteered in the UK,
climbed Taiwan’s Hundred Peaks, and traveled extensively across the country.
I felt there was still so much of the world I wanted to see, so I applied for a selection program by a travel agency
and successfully got a ticket for a working holiday in Australia.

At 19, I already had a part-time job in Perth and was planning my next trip,
when my boyfriend said he wanted to fly to Australia to celebrate my birthday. It suddenly disrupted my original plans,
but it also bridged the gap caused by our cultural differences and the distance between us.

Before he came, I often told him, “You don’t understand the difficulties and life I’ve faced here!”
He had never traveled abroad on his own before, but this time he embarked on his first solo trip,
flying to Australia to sleep in a backpackers’ hostel with me, eating frugally,
helping carry the weight of my backpack, and driving with me along the Great Ocean Road to Tasmania, where we worked as wwoofers.
We experienced together the joys and lows of travel;
and while wwoofing, we met hosts who taught us what it truly means to share and support one another as partners.

Influenced by my family background and self-awareness, I wasn’t someone who could easily express love,
because I believed love was too perfect, and I feared I could never live up to it or deserve it.
But when my boyfriend had to leave after two months to return to Taiwan, and the bus door was about to close,
I thought about all the moments we had shared and how I would soon be back to facing the journey alone.
I was scared I might never see him again, and just before the door closed,
that was the first time I honestly told him, “I love you.”

That year, I did six different jobs in Australia and visited many places,
I didn’t earn the “first pot of gold” that others expected,
but it was a journey where I came to understand my own darkness and imperfections more deeply, and learned what it truly means to love.

At 24, I married this boy.
The moment I felt the desire to get married was when his father passed away—he was in Orchid Island,
and I was at Taitung Airport, desperate to be by his side.
Because of the bad weather from the cold front, the counter staff insisted that only partners or family could be prioritized for emergency seats.
Seeing my name at the very bottom of the waitlist, after all our relatives and friends,
I deeply felt the pain of being separated by an ocean during important moments.
I wanted to become part of his family—I didn’t want to miss any more important moments in his life.

But after getting married, I found my heart wasn’t at peace;
on one hand, I had given up six part-time jobs I loved as a preschool teacher to move to Orchid Island, leaving behind my previous life,
and on the other hand, I had to adjust from ME to WE—including adapting to new family and community values.
All these changes suddenly made me feel very lost.
I began to face the expectations of traditional (Orchid Island) society toward married women:

“Why haven’t you had a child yet?”
“Why are you still working?”

Compared to my peers, who were also 24,
everyone else seemed to still be traveling abroad, building their careers,
but because of marriage, it seemed the only option left for me was to be a wife and mother.
No matter what I achieved in other areas, it seemed I couldn’t get any recognition.

Even on the street, people would directly criticize me, saying:
“Why don’t you have kids? Is it you who’s sick, or your husband?”


A voice inside me kept saying:
I really want to go out and travel.
I’m not ready to have a child yet.
Can you please stop pressuring me?
There are still so many things I want to do...
I even started blaming myself,
wondering why something that comes so naturally to others—getting married, having children...
has to be filled with so much doubt and hesitation for me?

Fortunately, I married my best friend,
And he has also become my greatest companion on every journey and in life.

When we were planning our self-guided honeymoon in Paris, we made a promise,
That if our means allowed, we would explore this vast world together every year.

In the three years since we got married, we’ve gradually fulfilled the journeys of my dreams,
Often, I feel like each of our trips is like a dream,
But the memories we’ve made traveling together are what fuel me each day.
When things get hectic, I often recall the refreshing sugarcane juice in Vietnam,
The blue sky behind the Eiffel Tower, the moonlit open-air theater in Melbourne lying on the grass,
His profile as he drove along the Great Ocean Road, his hand holding mine at Milan Cathedral,
And that moment when the Bangkok BTS was about to pull into the station.

 We’ve also slowly changed through each trip and the layers of life,
He went from letting me plan everything to joining in on hunting for cheap flights and booking hotels,
We’ve learned to travel at our own pace, only scheduling spots that truly resonate with us,
And we’ve gradually started combining travel with homestays, becoming better at selecting the right decor and studying the styles and hospitality of homestays in other countries.

I think these years of travel have helped elevate our sense of beauty,
And taught us how to make the most of the resources we have to create greater possibilities.
With each trip, upon returning to this small island again,
We grow more grateful to be living in Taiwan, residing in Orchid Island.

 Even though it’s taken another three years, and now I’m 27,
Because I’ve satisfied my desire for more work and travel experiences,
I can now say with great anticipation and contentment:
“I’m ready to become a mother.”
“I’m very satisfied with my current life, because the inspiration from travel
Has taught me how to better manage the homestay and life on this small island.”

I used to think that many situations couldn’t coexist in married life,
Many people say you have to sacrifice, that you can’t have yourself.
But I don’t want resentment, I refuse to have regrets;
I hope my choices and trade-offs are all made willingly.

 Because of every journey these years, every road we’ve walked together;
There is also experience in life and work,
I am better able to find my own axis than before,
Instead of living for the opinions of others;
I have more patience and love for myself and others;
Because when you are full within yourself, even when you give, more energy flows back.
We also know better how to take care of ourselves and each other,
There are moments of sharing and bearing together, but there is still space for ourselves within the relationship.

What I once thought were trade-offs, sacrifices, and struggles,
have reached a subtle balance three years later,
I have accomplished what I hoped to achieve before having children,
seen more abundant love between each other in marriage,
and am ready to take the next step forward.

 Although the process has been filled with indescribable mixed emotions that are hard to share with others,
although there have been many dark moments,
but just like diving to the bottom of the sea and looking up to see the beautiful rays of sunlight filtering through the water,
with only the sound of your own heartbeat and the universe,
it is incredibly peaceful and moving.

If you decide to enter marriage and also want to continue exploring the world,
then marry someone who is willing to travel with you,
someone who is willing to share and bear the hardships and relief on the journey together,
someone who is willing to grow together,
you don’t need to worry about giving up your dream of travel because of marriage,
because you will constantly change and refine yourselves along the way,
and live out the gifted life that belongs to you both!

Author of this article:Shushu (Xu Shuyu), from Tainan, currently 27 years old, married and moved to Orchid Island three years ago. In 2007, she met Shao Kang while doing a work-exchange stay on Orchid Island. She now lives on Orchid Island with her husband Zhong Shao Kang, runs a homestay, and holds an annual talent-exchange homestay event, offering travelers seven days of free accommodation and breakfast in exchange for 1–2 classes or lectures, as a way to give back to the local community.

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