Why do so many couples believe they’re “basically married”?
For many cohabiting couples, there wasn’t a moment when they consciously decided not to get married. Life simply happened instead.
They met, fell in love and built a life together. A house came first, then perhaps a dog, maybe children. Careers grew. Bills were shared. Holidays were spent with each other’s families. To everyone around them, they were married in all but law.
So when the relationship ended, they assumed the law would recognise the life they had built together. Except it didn’t.
Overnight, years of shared commitment looked very different through the eyes of the law. The home they had helped create wasn’t necessarily theirs. Time spent stepping back from work to raise children didn’t automatically count. The impact on pensions and future financial security could be overlooked. A relationship that had felt every bit as committed as a marriage wasn’t treated like one.
That moment comes as a shock to thousands of people every year. Not because they don’t understand relationships. Because they don’t understand the law.
And perhaps that’s not surprising. We talk openly about mortgages, schools, careers and where we’re spending Christmas. We rarely talk about legal status. We assume that if two people have built a life together, the law will recognise that commitment too.
For millions of cohabiting couples across England and Wales, it doesn’t. Despite what many people believe, there is no such thing as “common law marriage” in England and Wales.
That is why the Government’s A Fairer End to Relationships consultation has moved the debate beyond lawyers and into homes, newspaper comment sections and forums including Mumsnet and Reddit.
On the surface it’s about legal reform. In reality it’s asking a much bigger question: When does commitment become something the law should recognise?
The answer, of course, depends on who you ask.
Why do some people think living together should give you legal rights?
For some, marriage remains a deliberate legal choice. If you want the rights and responsibilities that come with it, you get married or enter a civil partnership. If you choose not to, that choice should be respected too.
For others, commitment isn’t defined by a ceremony. It’s measured in years spent building a life together, raising children, paying a mortgage, caring for ageing parents or putting one career on hold so another can flourish.
Neither perspective is unreasonable. Which is exactly why this consultation has struck such a nerve.
In my work as a divorce coach, I’ve sat with many people in the weeks and months after a relationship ends. Very few arrive talking about legal frameworks or financial remedies. They talk about school runs, pensions they never thought about, careers they stepped away from, and homes they believed were as much theirs emotionally as they were legally.
Time and again, I hear some version of the same sentence. “But we were basically married.”
They are searching for answers and reassurance. Often trying to understand how two people can build the same life, make the same sacrifices and raise the same children, yet discover that the law sees their relationship very differently.
Why don’t couples plan for the ‘what if’?
The truth is, most couples don’t make an active decision not to have these conversations. They simply never think they need to.
We are surprisingly comfortable discussing mortgage rates, kitchen renovations and where to book next summer’s holiday. Yet conversations about ownership, pensions, wills, financial dependence or what would happen if one of us died or left are frequently pushed into the future.
Perhaps because they feel unromantic. Perhaps because talking about protection feels like planning for failure. Or perhaps because we believe love itself is enough. That it conquers all.
But protection, financial security and future planning matter a lot.
Why do so many people believe in common law marriage?
In the weeks since the Government reform announcement, one of the biggest questions for me is not whether cohabiting couples should automatically have greater legal rights. It’s why so many of us have reached this point believing they already did.
So far, the debate has often been reduced to slogans. “Stealth marriage” on one side. “Common law marriage” on the other. But this easy split does not go any way to explain the nuanced, complicated lives found underneath.
What about the woman who reduced her working hours for a decade because childcare made it impossible to continue her career? The man who invested his inheritance renovating a home that remained legally in his partner’s name? The couple in their sixties who chose not to remarry because they wanted to protect the inheritance of children from previous relationships?
Families don’t fit neatly into legal categories. Any reform that is going to work must recognise that complexity without removing people’s ability to make informed choices about their own relationships.
Will cohabitation reform change the law?
Whether these reforms eventually become law is, in some ways, only half the story. The consultation alone will not change the law. These are proposals, and what happens next remains uncertain. The consultation will close. The Government will decide. Parliament may change some proposals entirely.
But one thing has already changed. The conversation and education have begun. People are starting to ask questions that matter. What rights do we actually have? What rights do we want? Whose name is on the house? Would either of us be financially secure if something happened tomorrow?
To understand more about what cohabitation reform could look like, read our latest guidance.
As someone who supports people through the emotional reality of relationship breakdown, I don’t think the greatest value of this consultation is the legislation it may produce. I think its greatest value could be the conversation it has finally started.
Because whether you’re married, cohabiting or somewhere in between, understanding where you stand isn’t pessimistic. It’s one of the important conversations you can have.
It is the conversation many cohabiting couples wish they’d had years earlier, not when the relationship ended, but while they were still building the life they both believed was theirs.
Start the conversation
Understanding where you stand can be one of the most important conversations you can have.
If you’re unsure about your rights as a cohabiting couple, considering a cohabitation agreement or want advice that’s tailored to your situation, our specialist family lawyers are here to help.
Keep reading
A once-in-a-generation moment – Cohabitation reform is on the horizon
Should cohabitation law really be reformed?
Debunking divorce myths: “I’m in a common law marriage”
