[Experience] I Said No to 12 Rishtas Before Finding the Right One — Here's What I Learned

Okay so I'm writing this sitting in my South Delhi apartment, sipping masala chai, and I just realized it's been exactly 9 years since I said yes to rishta number 13. Lucky number, apparently.

But those 12 "no"s before? Each one came with its own guilt trip, family drama, and that special Indian parent look -- the one that says "tumhe pata hai tumhari umar kya ho rahi hai?" without actually saying it. If you're going through this right now, I want you to know: I've been there. I counsel couples for a living now, and I still remember the pit in my stomach every time I had to say no.

Let me walk you through what happened. Not the sanitized version. The real one.

The Background

I'm from a Rajasthani family -- conservative, joint family, the whole setup. I moved to Delhi for college, did my M.A. in Psychology from DU, and by the time I was 25, mummy had already started the "rishta process." I wasn't against arranged marriage. I'd seen it work beautifully for my maasi and for my college roommate. But I also knew I wasn't going to say yes just because someone had the right salary or the right surname.

My parents were... semi-understanding? Like, they'd say "haan beta, your choice matters" but also "bas jaldi kar lo." Classic.

Rishta 1-4: The "On Paper Perfect" Phase

The first four rishtas came within three months. My parents were efficient, I'll give them that.

Rishta 1 was a software engineer in Bangalore. Good family, good income, ticked every box on the biodata. We met at a restaurant in Connaught Place. He spent 45 minutes talking about his startup idea and didn't ask me a single question about myself. Not one. When I said no, my mom said, "Itna kya chahiye tumhe?"

Rishta 2 was a doctor. My dad was thrilled -- "doctor ka rishta aaya hai!" We had a phone call first. He seemed nice. Then he casually mentioned that after marriage, his mother would "guide" me on running the household. I asked what that meant. He said his mom handles everything and his wife would learn from her. No, thank you.

Rishta 3 was actually sweet. A teacher in Jaipur. We got along well. But when I mentioned that I work as a counselor and plan to continue after marriage, he said, "Let's discuss that later." Later never came because that "later" told me everything.

Rishta 4 wanted to meet only once before deciding. One meeting. For a lifetime commitment. I said I'd need more time. He said his family was "looking at other options too" and couldn't wait. Fine. Next.

After rishta 4, my dadi sat me down and said, "Priya, shaadi mein thoda adjust karna padta hai." I know she meant well. But "adjust" shouldn't mean erasing yourself.

Rishta 5-8: The "Maybe I'm Too Picky" Phase

This is the phase I see in so many of my clients now. You start doubting yourself.

Rishta 5 -- lovely guy, genuinely kind, but zero conversation beyond surface-level small talk. Three meetings in, I still didn't know what made him laugh or what kept him up at night. Some people clicked instantly. We didn't.

Rishta 6 -- the NRI rishta. He was in Canada and wanted a quick decision because "visa timing." The entire conversation felt like a business transaction. I'm a relationship counselor -- I literally study human connection for a living. This wasn't it.

Rishta 7 -- we actually went on four dates. I liked him. He was funny, smart, had opinions. But then I found out he'd hidden the fact that he was in a relationship until recently and his parents had pressured him into the arranged marriage route. He wasn't over her. I could tell. Saying no to this one hurt.

Rishta 8 -- and this is the one that really broke my parents' patience -- was "perfect." Everyone said so. Both families loved each other. He was respectful, educated, well-spoken. But something felt off. I couldn't name it then. Now, as a counselor, I'd call it gut instinct about emotional availability. He was going through the motions, doing everything right, but there was no warmth behind it.

My mom didn't speak to me for two days after I said no to rishta 8.

Rishta 9-12: The "I Know What I Want" Phase

By now, I had learned something important. I didn't just know what I didn't want -- I finally knew what I did want.

I wanted someone who asked questions. Someone who had their own opinions but was curious about mine. Someone who laughed at themselves. Someone whose family saw a bahu as a person, not a role to be filled.

Rishta 9 and 10 were quick no's. Both families had very rigid expectations about the bahu's "duties" that came up within the first meeting itself.

Rishta 11 -- I said no because of timing. I was going through a phase where I needed to focus on my career. My practice was growing, I was taking certification courses, and I honestly wasn't in the headspace for marriage. My parents thought this was an excuse. It wasn't.

Rishta 12 -- he said he wanted a "simple girl." I asked what that meant. He said someone who doesn't overthink things. Reader, I am a psychologist. Overthinking is literally my profession. Hard pass.

Rishta 13: The One That Worked

I almost didn't go for this meeting. Mummy had to practically drag me. "Bas ek aur mil lo, Priya. Please."

We met at a cafe in Hauz Khas. He was 15 minutes late because of traffic and apologized genuinely -- not the fake "so sorry" but a real "I know this is annoying, I should have left earlier." Small thing. But it told me something about him.

He asked me about my work. Not "oh you're a counselor, interesting." He asked, "What's the most common mistake you see couples make?" We talked for three hours. He had an opinion about everything but listened when I had a different one. He talked about his mother with affection but also acknowledged she could be overbearing.

He wasn't perfect on paper. He wasn't the richest, didn't have the most impressive job title, wasn't from the "best" family background. But he was real. He was present. He was interested in me as a person, not me as a potential wife.

We met four more times before saying yes. Our families had their concerns -- his mom thought I was "too career-focused," my dad thought he wasn't established enough. But we both pushed back. Respectfully, but firmly.

Nine years later, I can tell you -- those 12 no's led me here. And I wouldn't change any of them.

What I Learned (The Honest Version)

1. Saying no is harder than saying yes. Every rejection felt like I was letting my family down. But saying yes to the wrong person would have been worse. So much worse.

2. "Adjust kar lena" is dangerous advice. Compromise is essential in marriage. But there's a difference between compromise and surrender. If you're adjusting your fundamental values, needs, or identity, that's not adjustment -- that's erasure.

3. Your gut knows before your brain does. Rishta 8 taught me this. Everything looked right, but something felt wrong. Trust that feeling. I tell my clients this every single day.

4. The process itself teaches you. Each rishta clarified something for me. I didn't know I cared about curiosity in a partner until I met someone who had none. I didn't know emotional availability mattered until I met someone who was emotionally absent.

5. Family pressure is real, but it's survivable. My mom's two days of silence felt like two years. But she got over it. Your family will too. They want you happy -- they just have a different definition of what "happy" looks like.

6. Time is not your enemy. I got married at 29. By my community's standards, that was "late." By my standards, it was exactly right.

What Others Say

When I share this story in my workshops, I hear variations all the time:

"I'm on rishta number 20 and my parents have given up." -- You haven't failed. You're still searching. There's a difference.

"I said yes to the first one because I was tired of the process." -- Some people get lucky. Some don't. If you're feeling pressured, please talk to someone you trust before making that decision.

"My family says I'm too choosy." -- Being selective about the person you'll spend your life with is not a character flaw. It's common sense.

"But what if the right person was one of the ones I rejected?" -- Maybe. But you made the best decision you could with the information you had at that time. That's all anyone can do.

Edit: A Few More Thoughts

I posted a shorter version of this on my Instagram a few months ago and the DMs I got were overwhelming. So many women -- and men -- going through the same thing. The guilt, the family pressure, the self-doubt.

Two things I want to add based on those conversations:

First, if you're someone whose family is involved in the process, communicate your criteria clearly upfront. Don't just say "I'll know when I meet the right person." That's vague and frustrates everyone. Tell your parents specifically what matters to you. Shared values? Career support? Sense of humor? Religious alignment? The more specific you are, the fewer mismatched rishtas everyone has to endure.

Second, if you're using a matrimony platform like Samaj Saathi, take the profile-writing seriously. Your biodata is often the first filter. If it doesn't reflect who you really are, you'll keep meeting the wrong people.

And finally -- take breaks. The rishta process is exhausting. It's okay to tell your family, "I need a month off." Your mental health matters more than anyone's timeline.

-- Priya

Priya Sharma is a relationship counselor based in South Delhi with 12 years of experience working with couples and families navigating the arranged marriage process.