{Guest Post} My Engagement Story: How I Got the Pink Sapphire Ring of My Dreams
I never wanted a diamond.
Remember Anne of Green Gables? Anne was all “I thought diamonds were going to be pink and purple and beautiful but instead they were boring and clear and ridiculously expensive.” (I’m sure I quoted that correctly.)
As soon as I was old enough to know what an engagement ring was, I knew I wanted a pink one. Pink pink pink pink favorite color Fancy Nancy pink.
When my friends started getting engaged, they showed off their pretty diamond rings, and I oohed and aahed like everyone else, but inside my head I was thinking “Nope. Not for me. I want a pink one.”
The trouble was how to tell my boyfriend. As you know, you can’t just go out and say “I would like you to give me an engagement ring, and I would like it to look like this.” You’ll scare a guy off that way. You also can’t “accidentally” leave your laptop open to the pink sapphire section on the Front Jewelers website. Men are smarter than that. They don’t want to know you’ve been searching engagement rings, because that’s their job.
The problem with engagements is that men have to come to them like it’s their own idea, and meanwhile all of us ladies have been dreaming about how we’ll get engaged for years. The guy on one knee, a glass of champagne, and – in my case – a sparkly pink gemstone.
So I was stuck. But I had a few options.
It was a little too late in our relationship for me to make wearing a particular piece of pink gemstone my thing – you know how it is, there’s always someone in your friend circle who is all “I only wear seed pearls, it’s my thing” – but I immediately started pulling out all the pink baubles I owned and made sure they featured prominently in the rotation.
No comment, of course. It’s like guys never notice. “You’re beautiful in whatever you have on, honey.”
Then I thought about telling his friends. I actually tried telling them. But if you’ve ever tried explaining blood diamonds and the morally superior advantage of a pink sapphire ring to a group of half-drunk gentlemen who are trying to pay attention to that little TV they hang above the bar… well, you can guess how that went down. I don’t think most of them knew the difference between a diamond and a sapphire to begin with.
In the end, it happened at Christmas. I told his mother. It wasn’t my fault, it was the eggnog, I swear.
She asked me about our plans, and how she hoped our relationship would last a good long time, and it all came out – my worries about being a plus-size bride, my concerns that I was building up this idea of a perfect proposal and a perfect wedding to such an extent that it would ruin anything that actually happened, and my silly, stupid, necessary desire for a pink sapphire engagement ring.
I got my ring on New Year’s Day. Right at midnight. There was no champagne and no dropping to one knee, but he pulled me to the side, right there in our group of friends, put his arm around me and held out the box.
It was a pink sapphire. Surrounded by two tiny diamonds. I couldn’t believe it.
Of course, do you know what? He had it the whole time. It wasn’t even his mom who told him. He had the ring that entire December. When I asked him how he knew, he said “honey, how long have we been dating?”
I think this means I picked the right guy. I’m just so glad he picked me.
Our wedding is going to be in January 2014 and I am just so completely thrilled. I even used Pretty Pear Bride to find a gorgeous wedding dress from Luxe Bridal. Yes, the dress is white. But I bet you can’t guess the color of my bouquet.
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