How the Decision to Propose to My Significant Other Taught Me I Could Never Be a Spy

A little over two years — in summer of 2022, to be exact — I sat on the bench at the local park. I was drenched in sweat, both from the heat and due to the anxiety of what I was about to do. I proceeded to take my mom’s ring out of my pocket, turned to my fiancée, and asked her to marry me. It was the best moment of my life, but it was also a decision that taught me a valuable lesson concerning my career: that I could never work at a spy agency.

So, I won’t be applying for a job with the CIA anytime soon.

Now what you might be thinking. What the heck does proposing to your significant other have to do with being — or, rather, not being — a spy? Please allow me to explain, by recounting the chain of events that ultimately led to that fateful summer evening that I popped the question — and the realization that a career as a real-life James Bond was not in the cards for me.

It began a few months earlier when I was on the phone with my older brother. I had just made the decision that I wanted to propose and I was asking him for advice on the matter. He was elated to hear of my plans, as he adored my better half, thus confirming my plans.

But, as I can hear my soon-to-be fiancee coming home, I rather loudly exclaimed to my brother, “Anna’s coming home, so we have to be discreet.” Anna heard me through the door.

It was anything but discrete. That was the first sign that any future as a spy was never meant to be.

A few days later, I decided to call my parents to inform them of my plans. I quarantined myself in our second bedroom-turned-home office, telling Anna not to come in or listen in. That, too, signalled to her that I was keeping something from her, something about her, and discussing it privately with my parents.

At this point, it wouldn’t be difficult for her to put together some of the pieces and realize that a proposal was forthcoming.

But if it wasn’t clear, it soon became so. The third sign came during a family gathering at my brother and his girlfriend’s apartment. Our parents were in attendance, as were his girlfriend’s parents who were visiting from Trinidad.

But, let me digress for a quick moment. When I discussed with my parents my plans to promise, my mom enthusiastically offered me one of her rings that my dad had given her.

Now, a few weeks later in August, Anna and I planned to go to Ireland on vacation. So, the grand plan to propose came into fruition. I was going to propose in Ireland with my mom’s ring — and, because we were going to be in Ireland, I was also going to get her a Claddagh ring, which is an ancient Irish tradition.

So, when the family converged at my brother and his girlfriend’s place, my mom and I used that as an opportunity for her to pass along the ring to me. We migrated to another room where she discreetly. There’s that word again — “discreet.”

You would think I would have learned my lesson the first time about being discreet, but I didn’t.

Instead of, I don’t know, bringing a bag that I can put the ring in, I stuffed it in my jeans’ pocket where it stuck out like a sore thumb. Immediately after my mom and I returned to the group, Anna took one look at the protuberance in my jeans.

“What have you got there, Bilbo Baggins?” she quipped.

My parents, who were sitting across from us, glanced at each other. Even the dad of my brother’s girlfriend gave me a sly smile, noticing that I concealed a certain jewel of significance.

It seemed that the cat was out of the bag.

So, after Anna and I returned home, I awkwardly asked her if we can go for a walk to the park at the end of the street. This too was out of character for me as I am rarely the one to suggest we go for walks. As we walked down the street — heading straight towards the park — neither of us said anything. She knew what was about to happen. I knew that she knew. And she knew that I knew that she knew.

The rest was history. But I still maintained some of the original plans as, a few weeks later when we ventured to Ireland, I still got her the Claddagh ring, combining the Irish tradition with the family heirloom.

Now, as we are finally about to tie the knot, I’m reminded that my discrete plans to propose were anything but discrete and that I am no James Bond.

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This post was previously published on MEDIUM.COM.

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