It started in my late 20s: the questions: When are you going to have children? When are you going to get married? And my personal favourite: "You know if you wait too long, you might not be able to have kids. Aren't you worried about that? There's got to be a nice guy out there somewhere."

My body and love life had suddenly become a town hall meeting, where anyone and everyone could put in their two cents worth. It made me very uncomfortable.

Now that I'm in my mid-30s, the prying questions have more or less disappeared. I suspect it's because everyone's afraid to acknowledge the elephant in the room: if it hasn't happened by now, maybe it never will? Despite having meaningful relationships, there's a chance that matrimonial bliss might not be in the cards for me. It's a possibility that I've had to come to terms and make peace with.

But here's the thing - although I'm still undecided on children, I would like to get married someday. I'd love to find someone to grow old with so that we can eventually purchase a set of his and hers rocking chairs for the front porch. However, I'd be lying if I said I didn't want the party too. The dress. The food. Seeing my family and friends come together to celebrate love. Did I mention the dress?

Considering I haven't met anyone recently that I’d like to spend 50 minutes with, let alone 50 years, there's a good chance I might be waiting indefinitely to bring my wedding fantasies to life. But that doesn't mean I necessarily have to miss out on all the fun.

Enter: Self-marriage. Recently there's been an outcropping of viral stories focused on people who've held nuptial-like festivities to celebrate self-love, singlehood or other life milestones.

For example, when Q May Chen, a 27-year-old woman in Taipei, Taiwan, learned her terminal breast cancer had returned, she made headlines this past March by treating herself to a gorgeous wedding photoshoot - alone. Next, she's planning on taking herself on her dream honeymoon to Bali. As she told Cosmopolitan magazine, "time is very valuable, every moment cannot be wasted. I do not have to wait; I can complete my own dream."

More recently, Angie Hamouie, a fourth-year medical student, decided to throw herself a $3,000 “Graduwedding” to celebrate completing medical school. The festivities will be similar to matrimonial ceremony and include an engagement shoot, dress, DJ, decor and catering. As Hamouie told Cosmopolitan, she plans "to enter with my framed degree by my side. We will have a first dance and sit together at the front of the room. I also plan to feed it cake." Hamouie readily admits that the whole affair is ridiculous, but says, "the goal of the Graduwedding is to make people pause to think why we don't celebrate graduations as big as weddings, even though they represent so much."

As of 2016, singles outnumber married people in Canada. As marriage rates decline, self-marriage is becoming a small but growing trend. In response, Marry Yourself Vancouver launched last year to help women have their wedding cake and eat it too. "By marrying themselves, women can celebrate their independence and personal growth while making a sacred commitment to whatever responsibilities and promises nourish their uniquely singular lives," says Tallulah, one of the co-founders of Marry Yourself Vancouver. As their website proclaims, "without weddings, there are few rituals marking the transition to adulthood." But maybe that's the problem?

While researching this story I discovered that all of these self-marriages had one thing in common: Women. Unless you count the Jack in the Box commercial, where a man marries a bacon hamburger, I've yet to find a man who is willing to fork out thousands of dollars to live out his matrimonial dreams.

I suspect it's because men aren't taught to equate their self-worth with their marital status.

I don't doubt self-marriage is an empowering act for many women, but in order to subvert the convention we still have to play into the idea that marriage of any kind makes women more valuable...well, that's something I'm not entirely comfortable with.

So, while I've toyed with the idea of purchasing myself a gorgeous diamond ring and starting my own registry (this girl needs a juicer!), until I meet my person or see a groom walking down the aisle solo, I've decided the most empowering thing I can do for myself is to save my money and not participate.