The air was cold but the atmosphere buzzy as a crowd of 2,000 women streamed into a three‑story building in Seoul’s trendy Seongsu‑dong on the first day of November. They had come for a gathering never before seen in Korea: a fair dedicated to “bihon,” the movement that rejects heterosexual marriage and celebrates the choice to live single.
Despite a nearly 70 percent surge in single-person households over the past decade, according to the Korea Institute for Health and Social Affairs, marriage is deeply ingrained as a social expectation, especially for women, who often face harsher judgment based on their marital status.
Bihon pushes back. The word itself stands apart from “mihon,” the more common Korean term for “unmarried.” The prefix “mi” can be translated as “not yet,” suggesting that the current state is merely temporary and that marriage will follow in due time.
However, in the past few years, a growing number of the country’s young feminists have begun to embrace bihon — literally “no marriage” — as a deliberate choice to remain single. It is both an act of resistance and a declaration of independence, socially and economically, in a society where women face the widest gender pay gap among OECD nations, alongside deep-rooted discrimination and sex crimes.
For many, choosing singlehood in a society where marriage is treated as an expected milestone is a deliberate act of refusal — a rejection of entrenched misogyny and, more fundamentally, of the belief that women need men to survive.
But bihon goes beyond simply rejecting the idea of marriage. It primarily challenges the institution of heterosexual marriage as a patriarchal norm. In that sense, it aligns closely with Korea’s 4B movement — boycotting sex, childbearing, dating and marriage with men — and often stands in solidarity with LGBTQ+ communities, especially given that same-sex marriage remains legally unrecognized in Korea. Existing laws only recognize heterosexual unions, reinforcing a narrow definition of family and leaving little room for alternative ways of living.
“Bihon in Korea is about rejecting patriarchal structures and striving to live as active agents of one’s own life,” Moon Young-one, president of the Korea Bihon Women’s Association (KBWA), which organized the debut edition of B-Fair, told The Korea Times.
“Historically, marriage has never truly been a matter of free choice for women. That’s only now beginning to change as more receive higher education and pursue careers. For them, bihon offers a way to ask whether they can live freely, safely and happily, not as someone’s wife or mother, but as a person, whole and complete.”
Moon Young-one, president of the Korea Bihon Women’s Association, which organized the inaugural edition of B-Fair, speaks during the event’s opening ceremony, Nov. 1. Courtesy of B-Fair Organizing Committee
According to the Ministry of Data and Statistics’ 2024 social survey, 68.9 percent of unmarried women responded that it’s perfectly fine not to marry — the highest rate among all demographic groups.
Korea’s digital landscape has been instrumental in amplifying this shift since the mid-2010s, particularly among women in their 20s and 30s. Yet the movement’s largely online and anonymous nature has made it difficult to gauge its true breadth.
The launch of B-Fair last weekend offered a rare chance to witness the bihon community gather not as usernames but as faces in the same room.
“I think this is practically the first time seeing thousands of bihon-embracing women congregate in one space,” said a senior at Sungshin Women’s University and member of the school’s feminist club, GPS.
“Until now, I had only talked about bihon life with a few close friends,” noted Jang Young-eun, a 25-year-old office worker in Seoul. “At work or with my parents, whenever I brought it up, I’d hear them dismiss my concerns with things like, ‘People like that all end up getting married anyway.’ But coming here, seeing so many like-minded strangers, I felt this overwhelming sense of solidarity.”
Not everyone views the growing bihon movement with approval. Social conservatives have accused it of fueling Korea’s falling birthrate, the lowest in the world at 0.75. Yet experts point out that such criticism overlooks the deeper roots of the crisis, from work cultures that discourage parental leave to the soaring costs of housing, child care and education.
It also must take into account a widening gender divide in the country, where issues of feminism and structural inequality have become deeply polarized in politics. Therefore, they note, the issue cannot simply be blamed on women who choose to remain single.
Visitors piece together a puzzle that spell out B-Fair’s mission statement in Seoul’s Seongsu-dong, Nov. 1. Courtesy of B-Fair Organizing Committee
From survival to celebration
For Moon Paran, a writer and stand-up comedian who moderated the fair’s talks, the turnout itself spoke volumes. The fact that 2,000 people attended an event organized by a fledgling nonprofit like KBWA without major funding or corporate backing shows how bihon has grown into “a symbol of the times that can no longer be dismissed.”
“Rather than trying to push these lives back into the old order, society needs to recognize the new current they represent. The fair made their presence visible and impossible to ignore,” she said.
According to the organizers, it was important that B-Fair feel warm and inviting — not a venue for grand political statements, but a place where visitors could casually share that an unmarried life can be just as full and cheerful.
“There’s still a lingering stereotype that bihon life is destined to be lonely and somehow deficient, that singlehood means shouldering every burden by oneself,” said KBWA’s Moon Young-one. “Facing alone these endless prejudices and attacks, often disguised as harmless questions, can be exhausting. Through this fair, we wanted to show that there’s strength and joy in the community, that we can turn our lives into a kind of festival.”
Visitors crowd B-Fair’s booths, ranging from women’s rights collectives to real estate and legal counseling services, Nov. 1. Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol
Participants share handwritten reflections on what bihon life means to them at B-Fair, Nov. 1. Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol
Equally important was ensuring that the event offered practical guidance for those seeking to lead a lifestyle not based in marriage.
To that end, the lineup of 60 participating booths was deliberately diverse, ranging from women’s rights collectives to real estate and legal counseling services, as well as hair salons, pet trainers, female-run cleaning businesses and inclusive sex-toy shops.
“As more women live alone, I’ve often seen single clients grow anxious when a male cleaner enters their studio apartments,” said Jeong Yeo-wool, founder of 204 Clean, a service that connects female cleaners with women clients. “If you’re paying for a service, you should never have to carry that sense of unease.”
Jeong Kyung-ah, who runs Neulpum, a pet trainer education center, noted she wanted to highlight the presence of female professionals for the growing number of women raising pets on their own.
“Training animals requires a lot of sensitivity and emotional understanding,” she said. “Women can excel at that, yet the field has long been dominated by men. We’re working to change that by training more female professionals.”
Joy Park, owner of the hair salon Joylight, which offered free on-site consultations and haircuts, said her shop’s mission is to create styles that don’t have to conform to standardized feminine beauty ideals, while also eliminating the “pink tax,” the price gap that often exists between men’s and women’s haircuts.
“I’ve had stylists tell me I shouldn’t get a two-block cut because that’s ‘for men,’” she recalled. “And when Olympic archer An San wore her hair short, she was attacked online for being a feminist. It struck me as absurd that a hairstyle alone could somehow be taken to define a person’s beliefs.”
A series of talks at B-Fair addressed issues that closely intersect with women’s everyday lives, Nov. 1. Courtesy of B-Fair Organizing Committee
Beyond the booths, B-Fair also hosted a series of talks addressing issues that closely intersect with women’s everyday lives. Topics included personal finance and economic planning, crucial in a country where the gender pay gap remains stark, and real estate strategies tailored for single women, since most existing resources privilege newlyweds and families with children.
The successful debut of B-Fair gave Moon and her association confidence to make it an annual cultural celebration.
“Next year marks the 10th anniversary of the Gangnam Station incident,” she said, referring to the high-profile 2016 murder of a young woman near Seoul’s Gangnam Station by a male stranger — a case that sparked a powerful wave of feminist activism in Korea.
“We’re planning to return on an even larger scale, and as we did this year, we’ll be donating part of the proceeds to Nanun Bom, a support group for the health of young girls. Many bihon women tell us that their life goal is first to be healthy and happy and then to help build a better, safer future for the next generation.
“Someday, I’d love for the fair to expand to other cities in Korea — maybe even overseas,” she said.
B-Fair’s banner hangs at the venue. Korea Times photo by Park Han-sol
