Many, many, many, many moons ago I myself got engaged (child, you can read more about dodging that bullet here). Growing up I read all of the grand fairly tales about the day that a man would get down on his knee confessing his love for me, placing a beautiful ring on my hand and would ask for my hand in marriage.
Now of course as I matured I knew that it wouldn’t be exactly like it was in my childhood stories but I pretty much expected a slice of heaven here on earth. Let me paint the picture of how I came to realize that for me the size of the ring DOES matter.
Picture It: 2013 Valentine’s Day
I was on my way home from work and my then boyfriend/now long time ex (Look at God. Won’t He do it? Lol) had been acting weird all day. He called me more than usual that day to tell me his every move and how much he loved me. Once I was off of work he demanded that I shouldn’t go straight home. Now to be honest I had a feeling he was going to propose but deep down in my gut I knew we weren’t ready so I blew off my intuition.
Once I finally got word from him that I could go home as I am walking up to the apartment I hear “Baby I Promise” by Jagged Edge playing loud enough for us to get a citation for disturbing the neighbors. When I walked in I was shocked to see that he wasn’t alone. He had his homeboy there (whom I could not stand), the homeboy’s live in girlfriend, and her 1-year-old baby. Not the most romantic setting, right?
He then gave a speech about how he knows I never had a real Valentine’s Day and he declared that he was changing that as of right then and there. Everyone instructed me to walk over to a flower and card awaiting for me on the kitchen counter. I walk over and opened it to then be instructed to the next location where I would receive my next card.
At the end of the scavenger hunt around the apartment I was led out to his car where I found a ring box. When I opened the ring box I was instantly disappointed. I mean my heart sank to my feet but I knew I had to play it off like I had laid my eyes on one of Queen Elizabeth’s rare jewels. Let’s just say shout out to North Lawndale College Prep High School and Lookingglass Theatre for my acting chops because he actually bought the act. I think he wanted a bigger reaction or for tears to flow from my eyes but my eyes were as dry as a long stretch of desert road in Nevada. I had to tell him to get down on one knee and to verbally ask me the question. An hour later I worked up a few tears but honestly those were tears of fear because I knew that I hated everything about the proposal, the ring, and just the fact that we were not ready.
Size Does Matter…
Prior to the proposal I didn’t feel that the size of the ring mattered but after receiving a ring that clearly demonstrated that the entire idea was thrown together I started singing a different tune. The size of the ring doesn’t matter to me in a material sense but more of a “I took time to save and sacrifice for this because she deserves the very best.”
I will never forget I was sitting at home one day and he strolls in telling me he bought a horse. Not a “My Little Pony” but a full-grown horse. It blew my mind that he saved for a horse but didn’t think enough of me to do no more than to throw a few hundred dollars together to buy my ring. The more I wore the ring the more I had flashes of an extremely basic life of him spoiling himself and me getting the short end of the stick. No bueno mi amigo! Those are not the thoughts one should have when they look at their engagement ring. Why was I as his fiancé not being held to that same standard? Shady much? I think so.
It’s All About Me, Me, Me, Me, Me…
Fellas when you propose to your lady that is not your moment. I repeat it is not your moment. The moment is about her. Do everything you can to make it a moment that she will tell your future children as a bedtime fairytale. This is not a time to wing it. You have to strategize. My ex had absolutely no strategy. He played his favorite song, not my favorite. He asked his friends to help him pick out the ring, not my friends input. He had his friends there to witness it, didn’t even facetime my homegirls. You see where I’m going with this?
Now I’m not saying take 10 years to save up for her dream ring because to be honest she will probably leave you well before that happens. Just put some effort into saving as much as possible. You can go with out eating out at lunch, balling out when you visit your alma mater for homecoming, or you can hold onto that college car just a little bit longer. Your girl is worth the sacrifice, right?
A lot of women may disagree with me but I’m not afraid to say that the size does matter to me. Again it’s not a superficial thing for me. The size shows the sacrifice and serious intent a man has to be a provider, life partner, and protector. I am confident that in the future when the right man asks for my hand that he will be more than aware of my worth and will go the extra mile to make it a lasting memory.
What are your thoughts about this? Does the size of the ring matter to you? Does it not? Comment below. Don’t forget to share this with your friends and family.
-MonaLita
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