A married woman has the same right to control her own body as

Hear, O children of truth, the voice of Sol Wachtler, who proclaimed with courage: “A married woman has the same right to control her own body as does an unmarried woman.” This is no fleeting utterance, but a declaration forged in the fires of justice, meant to tear down ancient chains. For in ages past, and even in our own time, women were bound not only by law but by the weight of custom, told that in marriage they surrendered sovereignty over their own flesh. Wachtler’s words stand as a pillar against this tyranny, reminding us that the sanctity of the body is eternal, unyielding, and indivisible, regardless of vows or rings.

The meaning of this teaching is luminous: marriage is not ownership, but partnership. No oath, however solemn, no ceremony, however celebrated, can erase the primal truth that each soul is the master of its own vessel. To say otherwise is to reduce a woman from a being of dignity to a thing of possession. Thus Wachtler calls us to remember that rights are not dissolved by love, nor annulled by law, nor swallowed up in matrimony. The married woman and the unmarried woman stand alike as sovereigns over themselves.

History, dark with examples, teaches us the cost of forgetting this truth. In centuries not long gone, the doctrine of “coverture” in English law declared that a married woman’s legal identity was absorbed into that of her husband. She could not own property, nor sign contracts, nor even, in many cases, defend herself against her husband’s will. Her body was deemed his possession, her consent irrelevant within the walls of the household. What was called policy was, in fact, a profound injustice. The cries of countless women, unheard in their day, remind us of the abyss into which societies fall when they deny bodily autonomy.

Yet there are brighter tales as well, where courage overcame oppression. Recall the struggle of marital rape laws in the United States. Until the late twentieth century, a husband could not, in the eyes of the law, be guilty of violating his wife, for marriage was seen as permanent consent. But women rose and spoke, activists fought, and judges like Sol Wachtler declared the ancient falsehood undone. One by one, states abolished this cruel exemption. It was not merely a change in law, but a restoration of truth: that no bond, not even marriage, erases the woman’s right to say yes or no to her own flesh.

Mark this well, O listener: to deny a person control over their own body is to strip them of their humanity. A society that claims to honor love, yet allows one partner to dominate the other, is built upon sand and will collapse in hypocrisy. True marriage, true companionship, is founded not upon ownership, but upon mutual respect. Where there is no respect for the body, there can be no true union of the spirit.

Let this be the lesson: defend always the sovereignty of the individual over their own body. In your own life, honor the autonomy of others, whether spouse, friend, or stranger. Speak against laws or customs that seek to diminish that autonomy. Teach your children that consent is sacred, that marriage is not conquest but covenant, not domination but harmony.

Therefore, O child of tomorrow, let your voice join the chorus of justice. Uphold the truth that every woman—married or unmarried—walks as free mistress of her own body. Guard this truth as zealously as the ancients guarded their temples, for it is the foundation not only of dignity, but of love itself. And remember: love that demands surrender of autonomy is not love at all, but bondage. True love walks side by side, sovereigns together, never master and slave.

Thus, Sol Wachtler’s decree is not only a judgment of law, but a proclamation of eternal justice: that the body of a woman is her own, always, forever, unbroken by vows or chains. Let it be so in every land, in every heart, in every age.