Starting out as one of the silliest listicles I’ve ever written—it still includes truths I’m embarrassed to admit—this turned into something a little less silly because it’s hard not to be a bit sentimental when talking about the woman I’m going to marry. You should listen to me because as a woman, I leveled up and am now worth more in society’s eyes because I’m engaged… but to a woman so does that mean I’m worth less? Either way, I’ve been engaged for 56 days and am, therefore, an expert at being successfully and happily engaged.
Kate, my fiancée, proposed on Christmas morning in the most perfect-to-us way possible. Looking back, I still would not change a single thing; I’m as certain as I can be, I’ll feel the same in thirty years. I’d thought I would be the one to propose. Kate knows me—better than I like sometimes—and, in her typical decisive nature, beat me to it, which was best for me and her and us.
I managed to fly to Australia for her favorite holiday, and she flew to the US for mine. Christmas has always been, and, definitely now, always will be my favorite holiday.
Less than 24 hours after her arrival, on Christmas morning, we opened presents in front of my bedroom’s Christmas tree in our matching jammies, socks, and Santa hats, surrounded by my dogs. (I’ll tell you the middle part of this story in the listicle.) When I turned around, she was down on one knee. I tackled her. The ring’s existence registered, but I couldn’t stop saying “yes” and looking at her. The absolute rush of emotions and deep love and admiration I had for her as I saw the love pouring out of her for me to receive and reciprocate was like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I was kind enough to eventually let her actually ask me to marry her, and I said “yes” for the seventy-nine millionth time.
1. I really want to marry Kate. This seems obvious considering we’re engaged. Marriage was not exactly something I was chasing down when we met—or ever throughout my life. Meeting her, I knew intrinsically I wanted to marry her. When that thought surprised me as the reality of her kneeling in front of me, I’ve never known the answer to a question with such certainty before. I knew it would be a yes. It was a yes. It’s always going to be a yes. The absolute certainty I needed her to feel when I said yes was overwhelming. The answer wasn’t even a thought. I didn’t think because I didn’t have to. I have known since our first date that I would fall in love with her like this. I’m just lucky enough she fell, too.
2. I like diamonds. Anytime rings came up, I’ve been very adamant about not wanting a diamond. Diamonds are included in the basic engagement package. I didn’t want a ring that everyone had. This has been such a thing, that most people know my aversion to diamonds. Except my fiancée didn’t until she did… After she bought the ring. It came up in conversation. The day after she bought my ring. I said what I said. I didn’t know! How could I have known. I still feel bad. I especially feel bad because I love my ring. Diamonds are sparkly. I’m in my girl era. So, I take back what I said, I like my diamond more than the sapphire I thought I wanted. Again… She knows me really well.
3. No one is surprised by my ridiculous antics. I say this because not only did I make the poor woman question the perfect ring she designed by telling her I don’t like diamonds. I made my engagement more memorable with a classic RaeAnna. A few weeks before Christmas, I was antiquing. I decided to buy the worst thing I could find under $5 because I thought it would be funny to see her reaction. As if by magic, the most horrible little figurine appeared in my hands for $1.25—I paid too much. This thing (pictured below) was not supposed to be a lasting memory but an ephemeral, minor funny. So, Kate and I were chatting the week before she came. She mentioned gifts, and I couldn’t contain the news I had a reaction present for her. She, oddly enough, had done the same. We turned it into a competition because, of course, we did. Whoever earned the best reaction would win a nice lunch at the other’s expense. (Jokes on her, it’s our money now.) “How will we know who wins?” I asked, knowing I could not possibly lose. “Oh, we’ll know” she responded with, I thought, far too much smugness for the optical atrocity coming her way. So I gave her this thing. She reacted very minorly. I was butthurt, she didn’t find me as funny as I found me. She told me to close my eyes, and I took her to a very nice lunch on our engagement-moon.
4. Quiet. Private. Intentional. Romantic. Our engagement story is amazing and funny and us, and it was nothing Instagram or the media tells us we should want or give our partner, and yet it was exactly right. I functioned under the assumption I would propose, so I knew how I would do it. I had never thought of how I wanted to be proposed to. For as much as I open my past and life up to the world, when it comes down to it, I prefer the secluded intimacy of our peaceful moments at home. It turns out, per usual, she already knew me. Private and quiet is truly what my heart wants… but
5. I want to tell everyone everywhere the most amazing woman I have ever met wants to marry me. Like… What? I need people to know. I am very excited. This is very exciting. Who have I become??? Seriously, though. Have I mentioned Kate and I are engaged? We’re very excited.
6. People don’t ask about my ring enough. I’m kidding. Not really. I’m obsessed with it. This was going to be short and shallow, but I can’t stop at “Not really,” which is the objectively funniest point to stop. Instead… Kate picked this ring out for me, and as we’ve discussed, I love it. Obviously, I want to show it off. Rings are symbols of commitment, yada yada yada. Yes. For me, there’s more symbolism. Though we knew marriage was in our future, she didn’t know if I would say ‘yes’ because we hadn’t talked about getting engaged. The dating era of our relationship was short lived. She proposed, overcoming a history of not committing and the reality we had not been together long. Either of those things are scary in their own right, but I guess she loves me enough to conquer the anxiety and uncertainty. So my ring, whenever I look at it, is a testament to a) Her bravery/dedication; I could not have done what she did. b) How much she loves me because I remember the way she looked at me as she asked every time I see it. c) She knows me and well enough to get it so utterly right (I’m really picky about the jewelry I wear). d) I will never question if she wants this as much as I do.
7. Calling her my fiancée is new. With all new things there’s an adjustment. I love that she’s my fiancée, but referring to her as my fiancée is new. The word tastes different in my mouth because it’s never lived there in this way before. ‘Girlfriend’ was an easy to use word because that word has lived near my name before. Fiancée has never lived near my name as an adjective or a noun. It’s never been used to describe me nor my partner. It’s a word I can feel every time I say it because it’s new and lovely and full of excitement, love, and joy. I genuinely think every utterance helps me overcome the imposter syndrome I’m having.
8. Being a “chill bride” is relative to experience, expectation, and personality. I’ve been in more than 20 weddings. There was one August where I went to seven. I’ve been to LOADS. I also work in the wedding industry as a floral designer. My wedding knowledge is pretty massive. My fiancée has been to one wedding. We both want a small, private wedding, which means drastically different things to us. We’ll figure it out. Or we’ll elope.
9. I will cry if someone tries to take away cake. Kate didn’t know I wanted cake at the wedding. And I thought that was the second most obvious thing after “I do.” I’m fine with a grocery store cake that could even be a cupcake. I just want to eat cake next to my wife between dances. Keep in mind, I frequently buy entire cakes just for myself, which I felt to be a logical indicator of my matrimonial dessert desires. To be clear, I was very much on my period, and she is the sweetest human in the world. But life is copy and long story short: I cried when I thought I wouldn’t get to have cake at our wedding. At one point, I heard my voice saying, “You can have a meatloaf for all I care, but I’m having cake.”
10. New level of intimacy… I hate saying this because it feels stupid. I thought it was stupid before, I think it’s stupid now. Because nothing has changed. Not really. We planned on marrying each other before; it’s still the plan, now I’m just crying over cake. We’re still long distance. We’re still dating and visiting and planning and calling all the time. Yet, there’s a closeness that I didn’t know existed previously. The very act of her thinking and deciding enough to buy a ring and then ask the question is huge. It’s not a small task to do, and the emotional rollercoaster I know she was on as she asked is much bigger. I feel closer to her. There’s more peace and security. It’s pretty great getting to love someone, being wildly honest all the time, just for her to say, ‘Yeah, cool, so let’s do this for forever.’ Then we just dive deeper into it all the more!
11. I’ve never in my entire life been so motivated towards a non-career-centered goal.
