I’m not sure if many of you know this, but once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away; I was married. But I don’t want to talk about that part of the story. I want to tell you about the proposal.
I was never one of those women that ever wanted to get married. I didn’t daydream about rings and cake and dresses. I actually didn’t think I’d ever even get a boyfriend let alone get married.
So I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t have some big plan about how it was all going to happen. However, I was pretty sure of what I didn’t want. I didn’t want anything traditional. No yellow gold bands, no diamonds, no white dress (a symbol of virginity, what a laugh!), no church or walking down an aisle, no family to “give me away.”
I decided that I was a simple girl. I wanted a small tasteful ring and a trip to the courthouse. No party. No frills. Just practical and unromantic. That was me.
When I was 21 I had been dating J for two years. I didn’t love him. He didn’t make me happy. But the sex was great and he was nice enough, I guess. And that seemed good enough to me at the time.
It was Christmas time and I was talking to J about what he had gotten me for the holiday. I vividly remember this because we were standing in the kitchen and I was wearing some god awful fat girl pants because I had rapidly gained about 30lbs when he and I moved in together and nothing fit. For someone with an eating disorder, it was a serious issue. I hated my body and I hated being naked. I was miserable in everything I owned.
I told J what I tell every guy I date. “I don’t care what you get me for Christmas, but you better get me something. And it better be thoughtful. At worst, get me some dark chocolate.”
And J replied “Don’t worry. I got you something.”
So I said, “Okay. Cool.”
Then J asked if I wanted to open it now. Which I didn’t. I’m patient.
And he said, “No. I want to give it to you now.” The next thing I knew he was down on one knee. Holding up a ring box.
The said the first thing that popped into my mind. Which was, “Are you fucking kidding me?! A ring is not a Christmas present! Me ‘getting’ to marry you is not what I want for my Christmas gift. You need to get me a real present.”
So he said he would and asked if I was even going to open it.
I took it from him (still on one knee) and muttered something about how the stupid thing wasn’t even wrapped.
I flipped open the box and sighed. It was like he literally had not listened to anything I had ever said to him. It was a square cut white diamond in a yellow gold band. It was everything I had said I didn’t want.
I took one look at the ring, handed it back to him, and said, “No.”
J got to his feet. “What do you mean no?”
“I don’t like any part of that ring. And I don’t want to get married with it. Get a new ring or forget the whole thing.”
I should have taken that as a sign that he wasn’t right for me. But I don’t really believe in signs. Maybe I should have known that the fact that he hadn’t listened to me was a sign that he wasn’t right for me. But I didn’t. Because I am an idiot.
I did not feel bad for even one second about my reaction. Who proposes in the kitchen? As a Christmas present? With the exact opposite of what I wanted in a ring? I had NOT been dropping hints about marriage. I hadn’t even been thinking about marriage. I wasn’t thinking about much of anything in regards to our relationship. I never do.
I think some small part of me knew that if he was right for me; then I would be happy to marry him no matter what. But that small part of me also acknowledged that there probably was no “right” for me. And he was the best I was going to get. (He wasn’t).
So he went back and got me a different ring. White gold (not great still) and tanzanite (not my style but at least not a diamond).
We were married and divorced within six months of that horrible fucking proposal. But that is a story for another blog altogether.
In case you guys are wondering. I want something more like this as my wedding band (I already told you guys I want a Squash Blossom necklace as my engagement jewelry, I figure it’s the only way I’ll get one):