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So not too long ago, I started dating this really neat fellow. Actually, at the time I was dating two really nice fellows but following my own rules of engagement, I settled on one in particular. Which well... lead to engagement.
Now let me say that while I'm generally a vanilla type of midwest girl with a tendency for attracting peculiar circumstances and marvelous people in my company, the way that my fellow and I became engaged was a little bit less than ... what's my new favorite word... heteronormative.
You see, I proposed to him. Not in any extraordinarily planned or meticulously architectured method. But by circumstance of feeling comfortable and enamored and confident in my affections to him.
We were home talking and I simply asked him "Hey, so when do you want to get married."
He shrugged "Anytime."
I responded, "So this year?"
He responded, "November's bad for me."
Then I sent him an outlook meeting request for a weekend in December.
He accepted the all day meeting request to "Get hitched to MJ and love her for the rest of our lives and look really swanky and have lots of fun surrounded by our friends and family."
I called my Dad shortly after and we announced the engagement in haiku on twitter. I blogged about it and he let people know he was engaged on his company's podcast too. Yes. Ultra nerdy. But also completely and totally us.
Because yes, the new way to propose in 2007 is less about ceremony and more about well planned logistics and software and comes from the gal if she feels like it.
So it was a pretty stunning and exciting day.
And while I could now consider myself engaged, I still had some weird lacking resistance to referring to my beau as a fiancee. Somehow that 3rd syllable seemed awkward when boyfriend would still do. Moreso the slight oddness of having people act as if "oh yeah sure you're engaged...show me your ring .
So last week, the fella came to pick me up from work, took me for a drive, and we held hands as we wove down windy roads, listened to music and smiled at each other.
We parked near a public beach in Half Moon Bay and walked out towards the water as the wind gusted around us.
I looked at him very closely and thought to myself, "Wow. He needs a haircut."
He looked at me and said "Will you marry me?" and cracked open a small velvet box with lovely gem in it.
So there you go. Now I"m engaged. Again. To the same guy. But now with jewelry.
After feeling mentally and emotionally committed to a man and making the personal and public announcement of our intentions, it seemed awkward to celebrate jewelry. Because really - I never call my friends up to check out my earrings. But somehow it seemed at the same time *more* of a committment and at the same time a tint of denouemont associated with the whole ring thing.
Me proposing to him = real engagement.
Him proposing to me = also awesome affirmation.
Him giving me jewelry = heteronormative spectacle & tradition?
I feel like I should buy him something back.
I love the ring. But I'm now digesting from the first hand perspective the hiccups between my personality and percieved pomp and traditions.
And yes, I'm already reading my friend Ariel's book Offbeat Bride. She is the awesome (and always has been!)
