If you think proposing is the hardest part of engagement, think again.
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Someone once told me that getting engaged throws couples into a new stage in their lives. One where they have to take off the blindfolds they were wearing during the dating process. I laughed when they said it, believing engagement to be a reprieve from relationship drama: a middle ground between finding love and making it last forever. And then my now-husband proposed to me, and I had to humble myself to the fact that the anonymous source was right. Engagement brings with it new challenges and relationship disturbances.
Quite honestly, being engaged sucked.
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Looking back at planning, I’m thankful we decided to have a destination wedding in six months, instead of scheduling a full-blown affair at home (and taking a year to get things settled). Because, quite honestly, being engaged sucked.
My now-husband once stared at me across the dining room table, sassy girl turned stressed out soon-to-be bride. We’d already lived together for a full year, time I’m thankful we spent together. Still, his eyes, glossed over with anxiety, were wide enough to show the beginning stages of a forehead wrinkle.
“I thought asking you to marry me would be the hardest thing we faced until we were married.”
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“I thought asking you to marry me would be the hardest thing we faced until we were married.”
That’s when I realized I should have already warned him about the intricacies of planning.
Just last night we sat at the same dining room table, now husband and wife, and I asked him what he would have liked to know about the engagement stage. What would have helped him better survive the process, if somebody could tell him how to cope.
This is what he said.
Plan on your fiancée being stressed out.
Here I am, a week from getting married, and other people are worried about what they’re going to eat for ONE meal. It just about did me in.
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Seems obvious, right? Except there are details that won’t be shared with you because your fiancée thinks he/she can handle it. I didn’t share everything because I didn’t want him to stress about things that didn’t truly matter to him. For example, just a week before the wedding I received eight separate phone calls from family members asking about the rehearsal dinner. I told people what they should wear (when I didn’t care), I repeated the same time and place to each of them and I recited menu options they could have found online. Yes, this is a first-world problem, but it’s also kind of overwhelming. Here I am, a week from getting married, and other people are worried about what they’re going to eat for ONE meal. It just about did me in.
My fiancé, oblivious to the problem (because it wasn’t one until that moment) responded with, “Well, they just want to know. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” You can imagine it wasn’t a great day in his life.
His tip?
You’re definitely not going to get anywhere if both of you are freaking out. Listen. Empathize (even if you don’t understand). Ask if you can help.
If you don’t want her to worry, take worry off her plate.
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If you don’t want her to worry, take worry off her plate. By offering to return phone calls, you’re providing an answer to her without directly telling her to chill out.
Nerves don’t go away until you’re married.
I could tell when he started to panic, and I didn’t take it personally. If the dude wasn’t thinking about the magnitude of the decision we were about to make, it would have scared me more. Still, there were moments I questioned whether or not he’d back out on me, fearful he’d realized he wasn’t ready and waited too long to tell me.
I asked him on several occasions if the nerves were manageable or if they were worthy of a second discussion about our future. Every time we talked about it, he was honest (and still on board). After we had the conversation a few too many times, he came up with a game plan on how to handle the anxiety.
We focused on what made us a strong couple to begin with, and we did the things we enjoyed without talking about the future.
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First, he planned nights out (or nights at home) when we simply chose not to do anything wedding related. We focused on what made us a strong couple to begin with, and we did the things we enjoyed without talking about the future. Living in the moment helped both of us remember why we’d decided to get married in the first place.
Second, he started taking more of an active role in the planning of our day, and chose to take charge when we got to the registry. He scanned everything he could, because—in his words—who gives a shit? That scanner is awesome.
Communicate like your life depends on it.
If you can get through the engagement and wedding, you can get through anything else. The light at the end of the tunnel? Being married. All of the worrying, anxiety and nervousness created a solid foundation for the rest of our marriage. We communicated when necessary and learned how to let go.
Even if you think some detail is stupid or unnecessary, showing your concern for it also shows your concern for your future life partner.
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We eliminated the first two concerns by acting on the third. And by always, always, always sharing his ideas or thoughts, we dealt with unexpected emotions as they came up, avoiding panic attacks or unnecessary arguments. Even if you think some detail is stupid or unnecessary, showing your concern for it also shows your concern for your future life partner.
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At the end of it all, my husband says it’s all worth it: the stress of choosing between photographers and his wardrobe gone, we were married on the beach in front of our closest friends and family.
Our lines of communication are stronger than ever. It’s why I could write this piece without feeling like I was hearing his opinion or concerns for the first time. It’s why I can laugh at the stress I felt while trying to plan the perfect day in our lives together. And, it’s why I know we’ve built stronger relationship skills to deal with problems as they come up, for the rest of our lives.
Photo—Michelangelo Carrieri/Flickr
About the most damaging thing that I wish I had never heard was the term “Perfect day”. It makes every little detail a life or death situation. The things I liked the most were things that were outside my control and a surprise. If you micro manage your wedding, you will not have any pleasant surprises. My wedding cake was made by my wife’s aunty. My photographer was chosen by my wife’s mother. My church was predetermined by her mother and grandmother and great grandmother. The florist was given free reign to be creative, based on our confidence based on… Read more »