How I Proposed First Because I Am Stubborn And Feminist

In my natural feminist fashion, when I decided that I wanted to share my life with a certain gentleman, I also decided that I was going to be the one to propose. All of the kids, and several friends were in cahoots with me while we planned everything.

November 5th was our one year anniversary. I packed up three different bags and loaded them into the van. Martin was given no information whatsoever.

“Wear whatever you want.”
“So I can wear pajamas?”
“I mean…. it is going to be pretty hard to crawl down into the caves in pajamas, but sure.”
“You’re bluffing.”
“…ammmmmmmm I?”

First stop was bowling. I will have you know that it is pretty hard to trash talk someone when you are both horrendous at the sport. So many gutter balls, an embarrassing amount. After several rounds of never breaking 100, ridiculous bowling poses, and fried pickles, we set off to stop number two.

The sun was already setting, and let me tell you, finding an AirBnb on a lake is NOT easy in the dark. We did manage to locate the right over-sized house eventually. We walked into, put our bags down, and I told him to follow me. Leaving the house, I grabbed another bag out of the van and started walking toward the road.

“We aren’t eating here?”
“Nope.” Still walking in the dark.
“Where are we going?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Heading for the side of the house across the road.
“This is someones yard.”
“Are you going to get me in trouble?”
“Just walk.” Trudging through yard.”

On the other side of the house was a huge field, that led down to the lake shore. I laid down my blanket, popped out my candles and BAM, instant romance. Poor confused Martin sat down and continued to ask if we were on someone’s private land. I pulled out the wine and food, and played my awesome love playlist. The moon was full and we had the entire beach to ourselves. Aside from his irrational fear of gators popping out of the lake, he very much enjoyed it.
(We are going to skip the part about how I got wine angry at him and cried at the lake.)

The next day was Sunday, and the kids returned around 6:00. Sophie made me promise to wait until she was there, so I had to delay. I had spent all year compiling a journal of memories, paintings, love notes, pictures, and trinkets. Since the journal isn’t mine to share, you only get to see the last page.

He had no idea, was beyond excited, and of course he said yes.
I mean, let’s be honest.
I am kind of amazing.

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