No time to marry, no time to settle down; I'm a young woman, and

Bessie Smith, the Empress of the Blues, once lifted her voice in defiance and song: “No time to marry, no time to settle down; I’m a young woman, and I ain’t done runnin’ around.” These words, though born in music, thunder as a declaration of freedom. They are not simply about avoiding marriage, nor merely about youth’s wandering—they are about choosing life on one’s own terms. In her bold refrain, Bessie claimed the right to shape her destiny, to savor the fullness of her days, to live unchained by expectations that pressed heavily upon women of her era.

The origin of these words lies in the world of early 20th-century America, where women were expected to marry young, bind themselves to household duties, and forfeit their independence. Bessie Smith, a Black woman rising from poverty in the Jim Crow South, carved her place not in kitchens or parlors, but upon the stage—amid smoke, jazz, and the aching cry of the blues. To sing that she had “no time to marry” was to defy not only men but also society itself, daring to claim joy, passion, and freedom over duty, constraint, and silence.

To say “I ain’t done runnin’ around” is more than youthful rebellion—it is an anthem of vitality. It is the voice of one who refuses to be caged, who seeks experience over safety, adventure over conformity. For Bessie, the road, the stage, the city lights, and the thrill of performance were her companions. Marriage, for her, meant chains; but her art required wings. Her words capture the eternal tension between society’s demands and the soul’s hunger to be free.

History offers us kindred spirits. Consider the life of Amelia Earhart, who, like Bessie, rejected the narrow expectations of women. Though offered marriage and domesticity, Earhart insisted on living as an aviator, soaring across oceans rather than staying confined at home. She too declared, in her own way, that she had “no time to settle down,” for she was not done chasing horizons. Like Smith, she transformed personal defiance into universal inspiration, reminding the world that freedom is not selfishness but the courage to live authentically.

Bessie’s song also carries an undercurrent of sorrow, for it was sung in a time when many women—especially Black women—had little choice but to depend on marriage for security. By choosing independence, Bessie risked hardship, loneliness, and judgment. Yet her words suggest that to live freely, even with risk, is better than to live safely in chains. Her song reminds us that true living is not measured by safety or respectability, but by the fullness of one’s passion and authenticity.

The lesson for us, then, is timeless: honor the fire within before surrendering to the pressures without. Do not marry an expectation, a career, or a role before your soul has finished its journey of discovery. Youth is a season of running, learning, and seeking. To deny it is to deny life itself. Yet the wisdom lies not in rejecting commitment forever, but in embracing it only when it is chosen freely, not forced by custom or fear.

Practically, this means listening deeply to the rhythms of your own life. Do not rush into commitments simply because others demand it. Let your path unfold as your spirit dictates. Travel, create, love, learn, explore—do not silence the wanderer within until it has sung its song. And when the time comes to rest, to commit, to root yourself, let it be a choice born of fullness, not of pressure.

So remember the cry of Bessie Smith: “No time to marry, no time to settle down; I’m a young woman, and I ain’t done runnin’ around.” It is a battle-hymn of freedom, a call to live truly and fiercely, unafraid of the world’s judgment. Take it as your own: honor your youth, guard your independence, live deeply, and let your heart run unchained until it is ready to be still. For in that freedom lies the truest song of life.