It seems as if everyone who gets married has the most amazing marriage proposal story to tell.
He proposed on the beach at sunset with a photographer hiding to take pictures.
It was a scavenger hunt. The last clue led me to the ring.
We were in a gondola in Venice. The gondolier sang my favorite song.
Whoever did the asking seems to have crafted a proposal unique to their gf/bf, really taking into account their relationship history and the things their partner loves. They know this story will get told over and over again, so it had better be a good one, something the one proposed to can gush about, something to make their friends envious. In short, something to make them feel truly loved and seen.
I’ve wondered for the last thirteen years what this would’ve been like.
My Proposal Story
My proposal, unfortunately, was very different.
I was in college, supporting myself as a barista. I had worked a late shift one night, and on my way home stopped by my then-boyfriend’s apartment to say hi before I went home and passed out. When I got to his place, he was napping on the couch.
Yeah.
On one of the most important days of a person’s life, my ex decided to take a nap. No nervousness there. Unlike so many people who decide to pop the question, my ex couldn’t manage to stay awake until I got off work that night.
Was he so self-assured I’d say yes, he didn’t sweat it at all? Or did he not care as much as I did about marriage, didn’t realize what a huge commitment it is? These are the things I’ve been asking myself since he abandoned me last Christmas.
When I woke him up, he was disappointed I hadn’t gone to my apartment first. Confused, I let him take me there where a bouquet of red roses was waiting in my room. He got down on one knee and whipped out the most beautiful ring I’d ever imagined. Sike. It was a ring of paper. No, I’m not kidding.
My ex proposed with a ring of paper. Just a plain ring of paper tapped at the back.
We’d already looked at rings together. He knew the styles I liked. We’d even talked about the budget. He had more than enough information to get an actual ring.
So why didn’t he?
Was he just not that into me?
Maybe I’m naïve, but I think that if you truly love a person, you want to let them know it. You want to make them feel special like they are a priority in your life. My ex’s proposal didn’t make me feel special. It made me feel like an afterthought.
My ex put in the least amount of effort, short of proposing by text. (He did however leave and announce his intention to divorce by text…) To me, it was like he was saying “Fine, I’ll marry you, but don’t expect all the bells and whistles.”
So why did I accept? Believe me, I’ve been asking myself that on and off for the last thirteen years, but especially during the last seven months. My current theory? I wanted so badly to be wanted by someone. I was raised by two covert narcissists, so I never really felt special or heard if you know what I mean. My deep desire to feel appreciated for the person I am was never fed. I thought being proposed to, no matter in what way, would make me feel loved, would make me feel special.
I was wrong.
At the time I pretended as if it did though. I told my story hoping everyone else would reassure me that my proposal was just as special as most people’s. And they did. Friends, family, acquaintances—they all acted like it was a sweet proposal. Now I wish they had just been honest with me. I wish just one person would have come out and said “Wow, that’s really lame. He failed.” Instead, I made excuses.
He’s not the romantic type. He’s never proposed to someone before. You’ll hurt his feelings if you say anything.
I figured he would eventually learn how to make me feel special, to see the importance of it. In short, I fell into the age-old trap of thinking he would change. They never change. After we were married and I brought up my need to feel loved and special, to be romanced, I was met with resistance. My husband would give me the silent treatment. Over and over and over again.
If you’ve read this far, you’re probably not surprised to learn we’re getting a divorce. You might be surprised to learn that he was one to initiate. I wish it had been me. It should have been me given what I’ve endured for so many years. But I hung on to hope, even though I had had the evidence of how he really felt when he took a nap before proposing.
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This post was previously published on medium.com.
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