Maybe you noticed I jumped back in here and wrote some things and then popped back out again all stealthy-like. Maybe you didn’t, but let’s just assume you did. And then assume that you are so curious as to why. You probably thought it was because I had some big secret plan brewing and I didn’t wanna spill the news or any sort of little hint. You probably thought it was all I was really thinking about to the point that it was causing me to text, message and call people more than usual and also maybe incessantly stalk the USPS tracking feature. If you thought all that shiz, you win. You were completely right.On New Year’s Eve 2016 just a bit before midnight, I asked my beautiful girlfriend to marry me. Spoiler alert: she said yes. Every moment up until that was a just a wee bit stressful. I’m not kidding folks, that shit is harder than it looks. And every single person who has ever done all that write-a-song, tell-a-whole-20-minute-story, profess-undying-love-with-original-poetry brand of proposing has my never ending admiration. I was so nervous even a week before the actual proposal that I am pretty sure I had to create flashcards just to remember the phrase, “Marry Me.” But let’s go back a bit, shall we?
Obviously, I’ve got it bad, real bad for this woman. I uprooted my kids, career, and home to be closer to her and start building a new life and family with her. That’s kinda big. I mean, maybe less big amongst lesbians (u-haul is a term afterall…) but bigger than that move is what’s happened since then. Love, growth, my kind of perfection. The kind you just know is right. The children have bonded with each other and with us, the mamas. I want this life forever. This is the woman I want every single day for always.For me, it hasn’t been any more complicated than that. I don’t need a ring, or paper or anything to tell her I love her, and I will tell her I love her every single day. But it’s nice. It’s nice to show I’m serious and make plans. It’s nice I’m able to forge a permanent life for us and the kids.
I’ve told her I wanted to marry her. I’ve “fake” proposed at least half a dozen times. Hell, I’ve even fake married her a few times. Every single time I’ve said any of that, I meant it. No matter how silly or sloppy or totally drunk. She is my person and I meant it each time I said so in any such way. But that isn’t enough. As the woman of my dreams, what she deserves is a decent proposal with an actual ring. So before I continued on with my pattern of awkward, mediocre love words, I needed to make it right. I needed it to be real and make sure she knew it was real.
I’ve had my eye on a certain jewelry style for some time and months ago found a little etsy artist that seems to do it just right. I knew it would take a while to be made and shipped, so before I could blow any more money on Christmas gifts that the children would break before January, I went for it and hit “buy.” From that moment on it was almost all I could think of. I spent all my time trying to predict the arrival date to plan for the right day, reading proposal stories & idea articles, writing speeches, and even made a video to do the job.
As the days slunk by, the more I began to panic. Nothing was good enough. Nothing. Not me, not any fucking proposal on the planet. Not the ring. Seriously nothing. She’s a goddamn dream. How the flying fuck was I ever supposed to ramble my meager attempts at romantic prose with some little rock on metal and convince her she should totally promise me eternity? Every idea was too lame, too obvious, too cheesy, or too something. All the while I knew that if I was this nervous now, there’s basically no way I’d ever be able to stutter a sentence in any human language.
I had been communicating with several friends about my plans, including Joanne. She is Terra’s best friend, so her input was helpful. Based on the arrival date of the ring I decided that New Year’s Eve was definitely the day. Then that crazy woman went and made our NYE plans into a whole group affair. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a badass buncha lesbians, but seriously? This is one time that even the thought of the limelight was strangling me. At that point basically all bets were off. I was pretty certain I wasn’t even gonna survive this. Joanne and I finalized a plan for me to take Terra out on the beautiful Coeur d’Alene boardwalk. Joanne would stay far enough behind and take pictures as I did the whole, lovely thing in the moonlight. Sounds great, right? It would have been except for all the things I didn’t account for. The extra people that I really wasn’t sure I wanted to do it in front of, the fact that we spent all day at a ski resort and my little pretty was exhausted and we had to bust ass just to be dressed and make it to the dinner reservations 10 minutes late, or the fact that it was somewhere around 9 degrees out and Terra didn’t bring a coat or even a jacket. None of it was working for me.
After dinner and settled in at the bar, Joanne and I had a couple of quick team meetings and decided I’d wait until the champagne toast and drop it in her glass. It’d be pretty, simple, warm, AND classy AF. Guess what. None of that exactly panned out either. After an evening of perspiration and anxiety I seized a quiet moment just a bit after 11:30. When Joanne’s sister brought a third round of chocolate cake shots, I semi-sneakily dropped the rings into her shot glass. (I fully acknowledge that this method was less class AF than the champagne plan.)
Chocolate cake shots are delicious. So delicious that even as a tiny shot, a girl may be inclined to slow down and savor them. Thank goddess Terra did just that and didn’t choke to death. She was taking baby sips and I swear she must have seen the rings at least 5 times. This did nothing to help my surging anxiety as I was certain she saw and just decided to ignore them. Like a subtle, “Nah, I’m good.” On that next sip she caught them, dropped them on the table and asked, “what’s this?” I told her that I loved her more than anything and that I was really hoping she’d marry me and love me forever. I’m not real sure exactly what was said after that. Some version of yes, some other words, and a whole lot of hugging, holding, and making out right through until midnight.
It really wasn’t the grand, glorious gesture my fiancé deserves. Joanne didn’t get to video or take photos of the actual event, but we got some dark and blurry phone pics that I’ve made the best of. And I get to marry the woman of my dreams.