Do Proposals Really Matter? (A Subjective Take)

 

Do Proposals Really Matter? (A Subjective Take)

Yesterday, on the eve of my anniversary, we went to the beach — North Beach — one of our favorite places. We spent hours just being us: laughing, talking, listening to music, beach-bumming like we usually do. While we were there, we witnessed something beautiful: a proposal.

At first, I kept nudging my husband, whispering, “What are they hiding for?” A group of people stood off to the side with flowers, signs, and a bottle. They were buzzing with excitement, anxious, waiting for something to happen. There was even a photographer pacing around. Finally, the moment revealed itself: a man dropped to one knee and proposed to his girlfriend. She jumped up in excitement, said yes, and everyone who had been hiding rushed out with flowers, signs, and celebration. Even strangers on the beach clapped, myself included.

And it made me pause. Do proposals really matter?

We live in a time where proposals look different now. Women propose to men, and people welcome it. But for me — and I can only speak from my truth, as a woman in a heterosexual relationship — I don’t like how it looks. To me, it takes away from the man. I know people disagree, but I have to be honest about my take.

And I look at proposals differently because of my own experiences. I’ve been married three times. The first time? I was 18, pregnant, and pressured into it. He had a stable military job, and we were told it would “look good.” That wasn’t a proposal. That was logistics. Neither of us knew how to be spouses.

The second time? It was almost a favor. He needed something, and we got along well, so I said yes. There was no celebration, no genuine ask. Just circumstance. And while it wasn’t a bad relationship, I wrestled with it every single day, wondering if I really mattered or if I was just filling a need. In the end, I left — not because he was a bad man, but because it never felt genuine.

And that’s why this marriage, my third, feels different. Because this time, I got a real proposal. A planned, intentional, meaningful one. He asked me on our dating anniversary, turning an already special day into something unforgettable. And I knew — without a doubt — that my yes was real.

There’s nothing perfect about this relationship. It has its story, and one day I’ll share it fully. But from the start, he was intentional. He didn’t just assume we were together — he asked me to be his woman. He made sure I knew we were exclusive. And when he asked me to marry him, he was just as intentional. I never had that before. And that’s why I can say with confidence: proposals matter.

Because here’s the thing — a lot of women are in relationships they were never asked to be in. Circumstance put them there. Circumstance kept them there. And if you ask a lot of men why they love their wives, they’ll start with the situation: “I married her because she was pregnant. I married her because she was there when I had nothing.” Those things matter, yes, but they aren’t the woman herself. What about her? What about who she is that made you choose her?

And women — we settle. A lot. We accept the first offer, even if it’s not genuine, because we’ve been taught it might not come again. Men settle too, sure, but women are conditioned to accept. That’s why the proposal matters. It’s not about extravagance — it’s about intention. Did he actually ask you? Did he mean it? Did he make it clear that he was serious about you?

So I’ll always ask: if you got a proposal, where does your relationship stand today? Do you feel chosen beyond circumstance? And if you didn’t get one, how does that sit with you now? Do you feel considered? Do you feel intentional love?

For me, the answer is yes. Because this time, I don’t have to wonder. He shows me every day that I matter. Not as a chore, not because he has to, but because it’s who he is.

And if, for whatever reason, we weren’t to make it, I wouldn’t regret this marriage. I wouldn’t regret this love. Because I finally understand what it means to be intentional about one another.

Proposals matter because they aren’t about being picked — they’re about two people deciding, with clarity, that they want to do this on purpose.