Peter F Borges
Goa is living through a relationship transition that is far deeper than what our public conversations acknowledge. Over the last four years, as reported by this newspaper, nearly 3,000 divorce petitions have been filed in the State, with both been filed in the State, with both districts recording a steady and worrying rise every single year. Bardez continues to register the highest numbers in North Goa, while South Goa — usually considered more traditional — has surpassed even these figures. By mid-2025 alone, more than 270 new cases had already been filed, indicating that the upward trend is not slowing down.
Lawyers, mediators and mental health counsellors repeatedly point to a growing breakdown in communication, changing socio-economic patterns, erosion of joint family support, and a deep emotional fatigue still lingering from the pandemic years. Many couples are seeing help only after the relationship has exhausted every reservoir of patience, trust, and emotional capacity. Mediation centres are reporting a surge in referrals, with courts across India — including Goa — pushing more matrimonial disputes toward negotiated settlements instead of adversarial litigation. Yet, even these late-stage interventions often arrive too late to save relationships already frayed beyond repair.
But these rising numbers, as alarming as they are, tell only half the story. Beneath them lies a quiet but massive shift in how young Goans are forming, sustaining, and interpreting their relationships. Unlike earlier generations, the experiences of young people no longer fit into the old binary of ‘single’ or ‘married’. This is the part of our society that has not yet understood — or prepared for.
We are witnessing the emergence of relational patterns and emotional dynamics that were not part of Goa’s social vocabulary even a decade ago. Today’s youth navigate emotional terrain shaped by technology, independence, fluid identities, mental health struggles, and a wider set of choices — all of which profoundly redefine intimacy. But our schools, colleges, faith institutions, families, and even policy frameworks are still positioned around outdated assumptions of how relationships form.
One of the most visible manifestations of this shift is the rise of situationships — relationships that exist without labels, where emotional intimacy and closeness develop rapidly but without clarity or commitment. While this seems convenient to young people wary of pressure or traditional expectations, it often leads to emotional burnout, jealousy, ghosting, and unresolved hurt. With no safe adult space to discuss these experiences, young people internalise the strain quietly.
Similarly, Living Apart Together (LAT) relationships are becoming more common — often among financially independent young women who do not want marriage to erase personal autonomy. This is directly connected to the independent lawyer’s mention as a contributing factor to marital discord and changing dynamics. LAT relationships show a new understanding of commitment, where love is preserved by maintaining boundaries and space, not dissolving into a traditional joint household model.
Another evolving pattern is the rise of digital-first relationships. Many young people today meet through Instagram, WhatsApp or gaming communities rather than physical spaces. Digital intimacy creates quick emotional bonding — but also exposes them to modern relationship risks like ghosting, cyberstalking, screenshot breaches, digital cheating, and online emotional abuse. Yet there is no institutional language or guidance in Goa around navigating digital intimacy responsibly.
We also see the emergence of slow dating — where individuals take months to develop emotional understanding before commitment. While this reflects maturity, its success depends heavily on communication skills, emotional literacy, and boundary-setting — areas where most youth receive no formal guidance.
Among adolescents and college youth, on-again, off-again relationships are increasingly common. These cycles of breaking up and patching up are normalised socially but cause deep emotional turbulence. Without counselling or supportive peer networks, these patterns can escalate into mistrust, unhealthy attachment, withdrawal, or breakdowns that ripple into academic and mental health spheres.
What binds all these relationship types together is not their novelty but our society’s lack of preparedness to understand and support them. Goa has no relationship-literacy ecosystem. We have no emotional education in schools, no digital-relationship guidance, no safe spaces in colleges specialising in youth mental health, and no training for faith leaders to respond sensitively to new-age relationship dynamics. Even families often do not know how to have non-judgmental, updated conversations with their young adults.
Instead, what we have is a reactive ecosystem that activates only when relationships break down — when they reach family courts, premarital counselling centres, and mental health clinics. And fast-tracking cases continue while the fundamental gap remains unaddressed. Everyday relationship struggles — uncertainty, anxiety, boundary problems, digital conflict and emotional incomparability — never enter the radar of public discourse. The result is predictable: problems accumulate silently until they spill into courtrooms.
Court rosters already reflect this collapse. In South Goa, lawyers note that not less than five matrimonial cases are listed daily in each court. This is not merely a statistic — it is a sign that relational stressors are building long before couples reach the point of marriage, let alone divorce.
To understand Goa’s relationship crisis only through divorce numbers is to miss the wider picture. Marriage as an institution is not failing; what is failing is our ability to prepare people for relationships in a world that moves differently. Young Goans are not rejecting commitment. They are rejecting relationship models that no longer resonate with their lived experiences. They are searching for emotional security, mutual respect, personal agency, and understanding — but within frameworks that older generations and institutions often dismiss or are unprepared to discuss.
This is where Goa urgently needs a social response. We need structured relationship education from high school onwards, integrated digital wellbeing curricula, youth-friendly counselling centres in every taluka, and mental health literacy embedded in colleges. Faith leaders must be trained to approach youth relational issues without judgement. Families must update their understanding of modern relationship realities. And the government must treat relationship wellbeing as a core component of social wellbeing — not a peripheral concern.
Unless we recognise and respond to the evolving nature of relationships, Goa will continue to see rising divorces, rising domestic conflicts, and rising emotional distress among youth. The indicators are already visible; the data has already spoken. What remains is the courage to update our systems.
Goa stands at a crossroads. The future of our families and the wellbeing of our young people depend on how honestly we confront the realities of today’s relationships — and how seriously we build the systems to support them.
(Peter F Borges is an Assistant Professor of Social Work, Goa University and Founder, Human Touch Foundation and former chairperson of the Goa State Commission for Protection of Child Rights)
