It is so interesting to me how quickly life can change. One minute you’re so sure all those years of dreaming of being in a loving relationship were for nothing; the next minute, you’re staring at an engagement ring, feeling as though every single heartbreak and misstep were worth every second of pain if it meant they led to this man, to this ring, to this life.
I once wrote a passage in my journal that went something like this:
I will not always be able to take long candlelit bubble baths alone on a Saturday night. I will not always make teriyaki chicken and rice by myself and laugh at Notting Hill while making commentary for my ears only. I will not always be 23, in my bed, dwelling on the delights and strife of single life.
Because someday, I will share the bath and the teriyaki and commentary and laughs and bed, and I will have a hard time remembering nights like these, as I hold my loved one close. And it won’t matter so much who has or hasn’t texted me, or how many of my friends are getting married and having babies. We’ll smile into each other’s eyes, and all will be well.
What a sap, right? Well, that sap never would have guessed that in a few short months after writing that, she would meet the love of her life, and nothing would ever be the same.
My 23-year-old self couldn’t have known that a little over a year later, she would be engaged, planning a life with someone who looks at her like she is the answer to a long-asked question (as she looks right back in kind), and feeling like there was a new shine on the world.
But that’s enough gushy sweetness for one post; we’ll all get a toothache if I’m not careful because I could write pages about how delightfully delicious everything feels right now.
For all my sighing and lamenting growing up, I never actually spent much time thinking about what it would be like to be engaged. I seemed to skip over that step in my mind for whatever reason.
Maybe that’s why when he asked me to marry him, I took maybe 5 minutes to process what was happening and proceeded to lose my mind for another 5 at least. Which, if you know me, is on brand.
I could never be accused of having a rehearsed reaction, let’s just say that.
All of this brings me to my main point of writing about this today: life’s big moments don’t always happen in neatly packaged Instagram collages.
Don’t get me wrong, I love a good IG collage. But more and more, I feel the urge to keep my special moments to myself.
In an age where AI is around every corner, grabbing, twisting and recycling every scrap of info you put online, sometimes it feels better to keep my memories on my real walls, not the digital ones.
Of course, I have nothing against those who choose to share. It’s a personal choice. We all have the power to do what is comfortable for us.
All of this to say, pictures aside, I am almost 100% incapable of applying that same restraint to my writing, so rest assured that I continue to be a tried and true sharer of thoughts and feelings in that aspect.
And right now, I am feeling blessed beyond words by those who have taken the time to share in my joy and excitement.
2025 is looking to be one of the dearest, most precious years of my life, and I intend to soak up every minute of it to the best of my ability.
Now, back to the plethora of decisions and choices and investments to be made. Wish me luck, and thank you for reading!