A recent study found that a third of married women were secretly disappointed by the way their partner proposed. Among the list of complaints they shared where:
* The location wasn’t right
* Not enough romance
* It wasn’t a surprise
* Wasn’t personalized enough
* Didn’t love the ring. “Some said they would have preferred a larger gemstone, a different band shape or a ring of better ‘quality’.”
Some proposal traditions have been falling out of favor among those who do the proposing, which seems to be ok with a majority of women. For example, 58% of women said they didn’t care if their parents’ permission was asked before the proposal. And 56% of the women polled said they didn’t care if their partner popped the question on one knee. Basically: stand on your head, jump up and down or yell in from the roof top; just get ‘er done. (Oh, but make sure it’s a surprise and the ring is awesome and the proposal is totally personalized and the location is perfect and it’s super duper romantic).
For the record, I loved Drew’s proposal. It was as much of a surprise as it could be given that I chose the ring (my great-grandmother’s) and gave it to him to have sized, telling him to give it back to me, “when he was ready.” A week later, he called me after work one snowy Friday afternoon in early February and asked me to come meet him in Central Park for a walk. I had a hunch he was up to something and took extra care getting ready, but by the time I got to the park, I had forgotten my hunch and was only thinking about how cold I was and how we should make it a brief walk through the park en route to a warm bar for happy hour.
But then we started strolling through the park and had only made it just past the entrance when we crossed over a small bridge and Drew peered over the side and said, “Oh! Look!” And so I did, and written on the concrete below in sidewalk chalk was: “Wendy, Will you marry me? — Drew” And then I turned back around and Drew had my great-grandmother’s ring in his hand (sized correctly for my finger), and I can’t honestly remember if he was down on one knee or not. I don’t think he was. I remember that I was waiting for him to say something and he was waiting for me to say something and finally he said, “Well?” And I said, “Yes!” And then he put the ring on my finger and we hugged and kissed and then we walked to a warm bar and drank champagne. (Actually, we walked to a bar in a fancy hotel where Drew had reserved a room for the night.) Before we went out to dinner, we walked home to get an overnight bag and to tell the cats the good news and they were so excited, little Simone leapt about 8 feet straight in the air. It was one of the happiest nights. The end.