I recently watched the Gilmore Girls episodes where Lorelai is proposed to by Max, twice. Once is half-jokingly, to which she responds that a proposal should be romantic with horses and daisies. The second is when Max has exactly 1,000 yellow daisies sent to her. For those who don't know, it never worked out for those two. She just didn't know him and they weren't right for each other.
It made me realize that, over the years, I've had quite a jaded understanding of proposals. First of all, too many movies and shows have proven that grand gestures are accepted, and proposals in pajamas (as ours was) really aren't done.
I was engaged at 21 to someone I met online and dated for six months. Our proposal story was something to tell. He chose eight special places to visit (all “milestones” of our relationship), concluding with a moonlit mountain-top proposal. It was an awesome story to tell people, but as our engagement commenced, it became blindingly obvious that he and I were just not meant to be. We were both more in love with the idea of each other than who we actually were.
Years later, when my now-husband proposed to me in the lounge room of my government-issued-teaching-housing home, of course I said yes.
Was it romantic? Of course it was. Okay, so he didn't go to huge lengths, make me some impressive piece of art, or ask me on top of a mountain. And recently someone told me that she would have said “no” if she was proposed to the same way I was.
But what was more romantic?
Months before he proposed, after a dinner with my family, I made some excuse to walk my fiance to his car and he said “I want to marry you.”
“Is this a proposal?” I asked.
“No, not yet. I just know I want to marry you.”
Before we were engaged we talked at length about marriage, living arrangements, and how we wanted our actual wedding day to look and be. I read books about marriage (and not just wedding magazines either) and surfed online for things to do before you were engaged. Then came the day he asked for my heirloom ring (which my mum gave to me after my first failed engagement), so it could be repaired. There were no surprises, and in my opinion, that's probably the way it should be.
But, of course, that is just me.
When I started reading Offbeat Bride, I was surprised at how many brides-to-be didn't have their “bling,” but they were actively planning their wedding. I was relieved. I knew I had found the place I wanted to be.