We met when we were 18, which is an age where no one really knows what they’re doing. Case in point: shortly after we met, he ghosted me. Completely disappeared. Very mature, very on brand for being 18. (Don’t worry, all has been forgiven since.) Life went on. I eventually moved to New York City, did the whole figuring-my-life-out thing, collected some experiences, and after a few years made my way back home. Then one random night, during a bout of insomnia and questionable late-night scrolling, he messaged me on Facebook. Apparently I was the only person online at that hour, which either says a lot about my sleep schedule or my commitment to the internet. We started talking again, and somewhere between those late-night conversations and catching up on the years we’d both lived, we realized we actually kinda liked each other. Who knew. Since then, we’ve been dealing with each other’s specific brands of chaos. Like any couple, we’ve had our ups and downs, but we’ve always managed to work it out the same way: by listening, trying to understand each other, and accepting that neither person is right all the time. Well. Almost neither person. There’s plenty I told you so’s said. But seriously, somewhere between ghosting, New York, insomnia, and a questionable Facebook message, our lives found their way back together. And despite all the twists, turns, and mild insanity along the way, we’re really glad they did.

Our engagement was pretty on brand for us: low-key, slightly awkward, and not really planned as a big moment. Earlier that day I was at the hair salon, getting ready for a routine appointment and unknowingly looking far more put together than usual. For the entire appointment I was talking with my stylist about engagements, weddings, rings—basically the whole topic. Completely unrelated. Just a coincidence. Definitely not foreshadowing or anything. Meanwhile, he had been on his own quiet quest. I had sent him a few rings I liked from Etsy, but he decided to take the scenic route and started searching antique stores until he eventually found one he liked. During this process he also realized he should probably ask my dad first. The only problem was… we had never actually announced to anyone that we were in a relationship. I prefer privacy, and honestly I thought it was pretty obvious. So he had to make a slightly confusing phone call that essentially started with, “Hi… you might not know this, but I’ve actually been dating your daughter…” That evening we went out to grab dinner. Lucky for him, I’m not a big fan of big gestures or attention, so there was no speech, no crowd, no elaborate setup. We were just sitting there in a booth while he told me about his antique store adventures, phone call, and the ring hunt. Then he casually slid a little box across the table. Unfortunately for him, I was mid-salad. So the proposal paused while I wiped ranch off my face like the picture of elegance that I am. Then I opened the box, looked at the ring, looked at him, and said, “Sure, why not?” And that was the engagement. After dinner we went to the store and got dessert, which felt like the correct level of celebration for the occasion.