IN DEFENCE OF AN UNSURPRISING PROPOSAL:

Like many other hopelessly romantic millennial women who grew up with Disney and tragically predicable romcoms; I’d imagined how my proposal would play out in my mind many, many times before it actually happened. While the method, the ring, and even the person in that fantasy changed over the years, one thing did not. I always imagined I’d be taken by total and complete surprise.

Like all things in life however, the reality was entirely different to what I’d pictured...

I hear plenty of proposal stories in my line of work as a celebrant. Generally though, when I ask the bride if she knew it was coming, I usually get a similar answer each time: “I knew it was coming, just not then!”

In fact, I’d be more shocked these days if one party proposed taking the other by complete and utter surprise.

So over the years, I came to understand that even a surprise proposal disappointingly wasn’t really a total surprise.

Like my many brides, this was initially the plan for my partner Dylan and me – he made his intentions known; I showed him two rings which I loved; and then we agreed the rest would be up to him.

(Good luck to you babe, because I’m hard to surprise at the best of times).

The thing is, I’m not just a wedding celebrant, I’m a funeral celebrant too. What this means is the plan for my day changes rapidly. An empty day can quickly fill up the night before with client meetings, and a quiet week can, in the course of an afternoon, suddenly have various commitments with pressing deadlines. No day of the week is safe from disruption.

This kind of life is not condusive to planning surprises, as I’m sure you can imagine, and bless him, it’s not like my poor partner could call up every funeral home in South Australia and ask if they can please avoid booking me for week?

Regardless, I was adamant – I wanted the proposal I’d thought of my whole life to be a surprise.

As the months ticked by, I could see the stress this was causing Dylan. Equally so, I was increasingly worried that when he did propose, I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the moment if I was having an unanticipatedly busy week and receiving urgent phone calls. We had a holiday coming up, but it was important to Dylan for us to be on home soil for his plans... so we talked it out, and I was confronted with my conflicting priorities – did I want to risk potential stress to protect the element of surprise? Or did I want to be able to be present and enjoy the day?

We both came to the realisation that I would realistically need to know the date if this was to be the day we ultimately wanted it to be.

So, sitting in the kitchen while Dylan cooked dinner, I learnt the date that I would become a fiancé. It was a very special date for us, and I burst into tears when he told me. I was so overwhelmed and excited.

But this date was about 6 weeks away, and soon I started wondering... if I knew what was coming, would the experience still be enjoyable? Would I still feel all those emotions? Or had that tearful outburst in the kitchen just robbed me of the full emotional experience of the moment?

Late one sleepless night, I found myself on various forums searching for others’ experiences with tales ranging from extreme disappointment to indifference to elation at knowing what was coming with a proposal. Regardless of what comforting words I read, I still felt frustrated that my life was too complicated for the privilege of surprise. I just wanted so much to feel the full extent of my emotions in what I knew would be the happiest moment of my life.

As the day drew closer though, I started reaping the benefits of our pre-planning. Firstly, Dylan seemed much more calm about the day, though he was still endearingly nervous. We got to plan how we’d tell our parents together, and we booked a long lunch with them for the next day in place of an engagement party so we could keep riding the high. I planned my hair appointment accordingly, and relished the excuse to go shopping. I started winding back on work as the day approached, taking on less to make sure I’d have time to enjoy the day, and Dylan booked us both in to get out nails done together the night before – something that he couldn’t have done if the day was a surprise.

I haven’t felt anticipatory excitement like the night before Proposal Day since a childhood Christmas eve; making my partner call me his girlfriend as much as possible knowing it would be the last time I’d be titled such.

I barely slept that night, so excited for what I knew was coming... but for all I knew, there were still so many surprises.

I didn’t know where, when, or how the proposal was going to happen... and I was entirely taken by surprise when at 7.30am, in a very special place with a very special song, I was proposed to with the ring that I’d secretly hoped he’d choose all along, but didn’t know for sure he’d get.

Best of all, I felt every single bit of bursting joy, elation, and overwhelming love that I had been so worried could only be elicited by the element of surprise. I bawled my eyes out then, and I still cry now when I think about that moment. It was without a doubt, the happiest of my life.

I then got to hand him the surprise I’d planned for him too.

Our planning afforded us the whole day to enjoy together, and my fiancé took me on quite the adventure followed the next day by our long lunch which we’d had so much fun scheming together.

My proposal was not a surprise, but it was still delightfully surprising in all the best possible ways. I got to be prepared in ways that made the day even more exciting and enjoyable, and truthfully, the preparation and anticipation were far more enjoyable than the fleeting moment that a surprise could offer.

It definitely wasn’t what I had ever imagined or fantasied about. It was so much better.

So, when I hear people or podcasts discussing whether knowing about a proposal is going to ruin the moment, I’m now a big advocate that no, it absolutely doesn’t.

Our proposal day was every bit the happiest day of my entire life, and I wouldn’t change a single thing about it.

And much like all the other brides I chat with, I too can say “I knew it was coming, just not then!” (For me, I just mean the time instead of the day).