To do and to do not: Marriage Proposal Take One
Some were sad to see Sunday Valentines sail on by. As fate seemingly intertwines with seasons, love’s sabbatical is brief. Luckily for romantics, spring and summer nuptials loom near.
From someone who was engaged twice to the same bear, I am (sometimes) asked: how should I propose?
I can most certainly tell you what the best proposal does not consist of:
- 500 of your closest acquaintances surrounding you + beloved.
- the level of extravagance that will require spending the next ten years paying it off, (if you’re of this mind set, you might as well couple this cost with a hyped-up, all-the-stops wedded carnival–more on that in a later post).
- the itinerary that your best friends had, or the 18 people on Instagram post of. (Those “candid” shots of she-said-yes will ultimately end in the depths of debt mentioned in #2).
nosy opinion, the best marriage proposal is one part tradition, one part heart bits. Regardless if the bride favors tradition, the father should still be asked for his blessing re: your intentions. Along the same vein, if the bride forgoes tradition in his or her daily interactions with the world, you have even more of a prime occasion to concretize such a monumental yet sweet and personal moment by taking one knee. Yes, kneeling to ask one of the most important questions that you will ever ask another isn’t much to bare, and may even help you “seal the deal.” *insert bro smug mug*
Above all else, be unique but be yourself. For you’ve already done the hardest part–finding someone who makes you want to be that much better for the rest of your pretty days here on this big, round ride.
And (of prime importance) try not to let others spoil the bliss–including yourself. Having a tendency to exist in the future before it occurs, I trampled on any romance my hub might have been planning in proposal form. And I didn’t learn from the first failed attempt. He was so nervous about my expectations of what was to come after the ring that he inevitably tried to propose as we talked one afternoon. I recall it was golden hour; the sun surrounding our dust, sending it swirling on separate paths. We were but tiny specks, too, whispering, side by side, in our living room. The proposal lay like a failure between us. It had been talked and whispered to death. And I don’t even remember a second engagement, but here we are: Mr. and Mrs. Lace.
So, please, do those heart bits of yours a big solid and don’t do that. Remember: this is the stuff worth writing for.
P.S. I’d so love to live vicariously through your engagement(s)–comment of your loverly tales below!