When my fiancé proposed last year, we had never actually talked about getting married.
Sure, we had talked about our future. That we’d be getting a house together, adopting a dog together (and naming him Guacamole), and talking about things that would be “a few years down the line”.
We hadn’t actually talked about heading down the aisle, though.
Sam ended up proposing a couple weeks after we got back from visiting with my parents in Canada, almost a month earlier than he says he had originally planned to.
He used a promise ring as he wanted to make sure we were able to pick out my engagement ring together – something that I would 100 per cent be in love with.
And yes, it was a genuine surprise.
Yeah, I will admit that he had been a bit quieter than usual in the lead up to that night. But we had recently gotten back from a long haul flight. I figured that if I was still pretty wrecked, he was, too.
I was very, very wrong – and I’m delighted about how wrong I was.
After a slight bit of nervousness on his part, and plenty of tears on mine, we began to slowly start to share the news with some people.
Both sets of parents, to this day, maintain that they saw it coming (his mum thought it was going to happen while we were still away; while mine barely let me get out the fact that we had “good news” before guessing what it was).
So maybe I was just a bit oblivious to it all.
The surprise factor of it all meant that when the questions started – after the initial congratulations, well wishes and general happiness – there was one thing that I really, really soon began to wish people wouldn’t ask us.
Or at least stopped looking at me like I was crazy for my answer, when they did ask.
And that was mostly because when the inevitable “Were you surprised?!” question left their mouths, things got awkward.
Yes, I was surprised – no, we hadn’t talked about it before. No, I definitely didn’t think it was wrong.
Cue the stunned, confused and, occasionally, even the outraged looks.
It was like I had been trying to tell them that a dragon had just flown over their heads, or that the sky was suddenly a fluorescent purple – not that, y’know, it had been a genuine surprise.
When the flurry of follow up questions began, mainly revolving around “What do you mean you didn’t talk about it?!”, I didn’t mind.
For the first few times, anyways.
After being asked two dozen-or-so times, I began to feel more like I was having to defend my relationship than anything else.
Yes, it’s definitely more the norm now for the surprise to be when the proposal is going to happen, rather than the fact that it is going to happen.
But the fact that he wanted it all to be a surprise isn’t a bad thing. It doesn’t make our story weird, wrong or a horrible oddity of any kind.
In fact, it actually proves he knows me way too well.
I’m not good with surprises – birthday gifts, Christmas gifts, or simple everyday kind of things.
Even the ‘hey, this thing is happening down the line – just not going to tell you when!’ kind – I just get way too impatient and nosy for my own good.
Which is why I’m still kind of amazed that he managed to pick up the promise ring, keep it so well hidden, and plan the proposal without me suspecting a thing.
We both acknowledged, after the fact, that we would have brought up the topic of marriage at some point.
But if we had talked about it beforehand, I would have been asking him way too many questions; I would have felt too on-guard for the weeks, months, however-long between he discussion and the proposal.
And the memory of that evening definitely wouldn’t have had as much sparkle.
Keeley and Sam are saying ‘I do,’ in May 2019. And with a year to go, this bride-to-be admits she’s still learning the ropes. In the run-up to her Big Day, Keeley will be writing a weekly blog about all things wedding-related… from the start of planning, to walking down the aisle.
