My Proposal Story: Love, Deadlines, And Operation Nutcracker
Love at Third Swipe
After our first date, something shifted. There was an ease to our relationship, and even though we hadn’t been together for very long, it felt like Andrew and I belonged to each other. Four months later, I sent Andrew a meme asking why he hadn’t asked me to be his girlfriend yet. He responded, genuinely confused, because he thought we were already dating. To this day, we still don’t know when our actual anniversary is, which feels on-brand for a relationship born during a pandemic and built on memes and mutual overthinking.
The Promise of a Ring
By early 2024, I had what I’d call a loving logistical request: I told Andrew he had until 11:59 p.m. on December 31 to propose. Not because I was in a rush to get married but because I enjoyed a deadline and also because I really wanted a sparkly ring. After three years together, it felt like the natural next step, especially since we already lived together, adopted two dogs, and bickered like an already married couple.
Somewhere in the background of this timeline were two rings passed down from my grandmother. One, a dainty garnet and diamond that I wear daily, and the other, a chunky gold band with a blue topaz that screamed 1980s elegance. I love a sentimental jewelry piece, and I knew I wanted to repurpose one of them into an engagement ring, especially since it wasn’t necessarily an everyday ring, and I honestly don’t go to many fancy events. Andrew had been briefed…many times.
October 16: Meeting the Jeweler
In October, Andrew told me to bring the Topaz ring on date night, casually mentioning we would meet with a jeweler. I nodded like it was no big deal while internally screaming and jumping in glee. We sat at a table while the jeweler laid out all the shiny options—cuts, karats, settings, sparkle tiers. It was Build-a-Bear but for lifelong emotional commitment. I tried to be practical and modest, but when he pulled out the largest diamond I’d ever seen in my life, my bird brain took over and said, “That one.”
We left without the ring but fully buzzing with unspoken excitement. I tried not to ruin the moment by overanalyzing the timeline. I told myself to be patient and let the magic unfold. (Narrator: She would not, in fact, remain patient.)
Thanksgiving: Grandpa Knows Everything
A few weeks later, we visited my family in Wyoming for Thanksgiving. We spent the long weekend sorting through photographs, playing with my grandpa’s dog, and showing Sutton the ranch where I grew up. On the last night of the trip, Andrew showed my grandpa the ring and laid out his proposal plan. My grandpa, one glass of scotch and an hour past bedtime later, nodded and gave Andrew his blessing. Of course, I had no idea this was happening under my nose.
After Andrew and Sutton left the next day, my grandpa settled onto the couch beside me and said, completely unprompted, “That’s a huge rock.” I laughed and told him that maybe he wasn’t supposed to tell me while simultaneously touched that Andrew had asked my grandpa for his blessing.
December 5: The Day the Universe Said “Not Today”
Mid-December brought a perfect storm of inconvenience. I was assigned a giant new grant project, several other deadlines were looming, and I received an email saying my Nutcracker tickets had been canceled due to overselling. It was the one thing I had been looking forward to, and I sobbed at my desk like a Dickensian orphan. I only had fifteen minutes to cry before my grant planning meeting started, so I put on my big girl pants and a stoic mask and continued on with the day.
When I got home, my dog had gotten sick and left a mess on the floor. Andrew brought home dinner, and my sister sent me cookies via DoorDash. It was an emotional tornado. Somewhere amid all this, Andrew decided that now was the time to book a flight to Texas and plan an elaborate engagement.
I didn’t know my sister had finally been approved for her time off. I remember telling Andrew, “No pressure. It’s not happening this year anyway.”
It turns out it was happening. My sister’s time off was approved, and we hatched a plan to surprise my parents on Christmas Day. I landed in Texas on December 23, making casual jokes about finding Andrew under the tree. My parents, who were now co-conspirators in an engagement plan, were visibly stressed. Andrew told them, “She has no idea.”
He was correct.
December 25: Operation Nutcracker Begins
My brother and I picked up my sister from the airport and flawlessly pulled off the surprise. My parents were thrilled. The next day, my mom, sister, and I went to get our nails done—an annual tradition. I picked a color I had mentally labeled as my "engagement nail shade" and Snapchatted Andrew to say I was ready. I still had no clue.
December 27: The Setup
On the 27th, my mom surprised me with ballet tickets for The Nutcracker in Fort Worth. I assumed it was a thoughtful gesture to compensate for the ticket fiasco I had experienced a few weeks earlier. Andrew, for his part, said he was goose hunting with his best friend Levi and wouldn’t be reachable, so we didn’t talk much that day.
My mom, sister, and I got dolled up in preparation for the show. I donned my grandmother’s pink wool coat, curled my hair, had my nails done, and took extra time applying my makeup. My brother suggested dinner beforehand at a Vietnamese spot he “found on TikTok,” so we left the house early in pursuit of pho and shrimp spring rolls. We ordered, and I asked how long it would take to get to the theater. He said ten minutes. Google Maps said forty-five.
I was big mad. I just wanted to sip champagne and watch beautiful ballerinas dance. I tried to keep a positive face as I sincerely thought my brother wanted to impress us with the restaurant. However, my mom and sister kept making eye contact and texting each other, so I thought they were talking about me. Then, my sister needed a hot chocolate from a coffee shop across the street. I begrudgingly followed, grumbling all the way.
The Moment
We entered a building, took the elevator, and walked down a dim hallway. I thought, “Wow, niche, speakeasy-esque coffee shop.” I didn’t notice my mom grinning ear to ear the whole time. I didn’t question anything as I was too busy internally spiraling about traffic.
Then the door opened.
I saw a mysterious man kneeling amid a flurry of rose petals and tea lights with a photographer frantically snapping pictures. I immediately turned away, thinking we had just entered someone else’s private engagement and that my sister had busted down the wrong door. My mom physically redirected me toward the door. I blinked, squinted, and then—Andrew.
Time slowed, and my thoughts evaporated into tiny snowflakes. I walked toward him, my heart pounding and my brain super empty. I blacked out, and the next thing I knew, we were hugging, and a sparkly, reimagined heirloom was in my hand. Apparently, when he asked me if I’d marry him, I promptly answered with a confident “Yeah, dude.”
The Aftermath
My dad filmed the whole thing, and my sister took portraits. My dad’s presence was jolting as I thought he had been called into work since he left the house in his work clothes and badge earlier that afternoon. In hindsight, why would my dad have been called to work on a Friday afternoon while on PTO? I FaceTimed my future sister-in-law first, followed by my future parents-in-law, and wrapped up the virtual tour by calling my best friends and announcing the news.
I floated through the rest of the evening in a sparkly haze. My family headed home to allow Andrew and I to enjoy our evening alone as a newly engaged couple. Andrew and I went to dinner, where I drank espresso martinis and stared at my ring like a big ol’ raven.
And yes, we made it to The Nutcracker one night later.
I still can’t believe that Andrew pulled off such a massive surprise, and I’m eternally grateful that my family had a part in the planning and celebrating of our engagement. Sometimes, love arrives on a timeline. Sometimes, it comes in an elevator surrounded by tea lights. Either way—it was a hell yeah from me, dude.
