The Feminist Bride: Engagement

I'm a 28 year old white, upper-middle class American female, trained by Walt Disney and Cosmo and Seventeen Magazine. Since I have been able to understand what a wedding was, I have fantasized about how the man would propose. Where it would happen, how he would kneel, how I would act surprised but shyly confident beneath my blush. As a feminist I suppose I should be embarrassed about these confessions, but when it comes down to it, fantasies of this type are common. I am not at all different than any other woman I know. I don't know another woman my age who hasn't envisioned how her engagement would transpire. Ready to say yes or shake her head in reply.

Before I decided that I was ready to marry I hadn't the slightest idea of how deep my pre-conceptions of engagement were. It was not until I decided I was ready to wed that I discovered how thoroughly my expectations (and everyone else around me) were already imbedded in my American cultural soul.

Six weeks ago I flipped my socio-cultural norms on their head. I kneeled down on a beach in California, and asked my boyfriend for his hand in marriage. 

Since that day I have come to understand that engagement is actually the last bastion of cultural misogyny.

A personal example: How many women in your life do you know who asked their partners to marry them?

Lesbians aside, your answer should be apparent. We are few.

And why- is it that it's difficult to be the one who asks? Is it that we are too weak or indecisive to execute? Is it because we don't know his ring size? No. No. and No. The only reason we as women allow ourselves to continue the gender biased process of a traditional engagement is because society hasn't let this last stand go.

True discrimination happens when something is so ingrained in society that no one notices it. Indeed, I myself hadn't realized I too expected the man to propose until when cleaning the house a few years ago, my boyfriend approached me (then on a ladder 8 ft in the air, in my filthiest clothes, hair full of cobwebs) with a small blue velvet ring box. My mind immediately jumped to Oh No! Not Here! He can't propose to me like this! It was at that moment I realized my assumptions. I had never stopped to consider that I might be the one to pop the question.

Similarly, it occurred to very few of our friends that in our case, my proposal was the perfect and most logical way for this to transpire. He had already told everyone he was ready to marry- he was just waiting for me. So when I became ready- I had to reevaluate my position on engagement. It didn't make much sense for me to tell him that I was ready, and for him subsequently to propose- where's the mystery, the magic, and the surprise in that?

So I set to planning. I created my fantasy of a proposal. There was a beach, a sunset, a hand crafted ring from a local artisan.  And in the end, my proposal was accepted, and heartily I might add. It didn't faze him in the least that I had been the one to ask. I'm adding the comfortability with flipped gender norms to the many reasons I'm grateful for my groom to be.

And to all you ladies out there- here's an encouragement: Proposing was one of the most empowering actions I've ever taken. And, as a bonus, I got to create the proposal that I had always dreamed of.