A Cultured Pearl

Football to Fiancée in 60 Seconds

Posted on September 21st, 2015

It’s a funny thing to live through moments that you’ve dreamed about for years. It’s not uncommon for people to fantasize about finding The One, and once you have, you pretty much can’t wait for that moment when you can share with the world your plans to be together indefinitely and eternally. While I believe firmly in my completeness as an individual, I also recognize my strong preference for going through life with a partner. For the past (almost) six years, I’ve had such a partner in my life. He has supported me and (more importantly) challenged me through all sorts of twists and turns. Being with him makes 100% of all things better.

On Saturday, Ian made it abundantly clear that he, too, treasures our partnership and does not want it to end. Before he could even finish asking me to be his wife, I said yes.

So that’s all I’m going to say about that.

……obviously not. As if I don’t want to tell everyone in the world about my incredible proposal and show them my stunning ring. As if I haven’t already forced the story on 2 Starbucks baristas and 1 doorman today.

We were in the Los Angeles area for the weekend visiting three of our best friends. Saturday evening we were planning on beach time in Malibu before a going away dinner for one of said friends. Alexander and Ben were meeting us on the beach, but Julia rode with us. Once we paid our exorbitant parking fee, we saw Alexander in the parking lot. “This way,” he said, “Ben found us a spot.” We found Ben next to the water, but he wasn’t alone when we got there. Behind him was a Hawaiian-shirt wearing band. I have been to many beaches, but never one with a band.

So suspicious. But all three (sneaky, scheming) boys assured me it was just a quirky LA thing, and because I do in fact think LA is strange, I believed it. Kind of. Cautiously.

We had big plans for the beach outing: I love football but my spiral throwing skills are pretty abysmal. Ian had bought a football so we could practice. We got out the football and started playing catch while the band played some of my favorite songs in the background. Which I’m sure was just part of the quirky coincidence, right?

“Helen,” Ian said, “You’re doing it all wrong.” (Very tactful and gentle, that one. But also, in this case, correct.) “Come here and let me see your fingers.” I walked towards him and gave him my throwing hand– my left one– and noticed his hands trembling as he fixed my grip on the football. And that was the moment I knew.

“Yup,” he continued, “the problem is definitely your fingers. Let me fix them…”

Honestly, I was too overwhelmed to perfectly remember every word he said in the two minutes that followed. But the image of him reaching into his pocket and getting down on one knee is something that will be permanently lasered into my memory.

The next thing I knew, I had a beautiful ring on my finger, the band was playing our song, and I was dancing with my fiance.

Conveniently, Alexander is also a photographer, so he managed to make us look pretty decent even though we got engaged while wearing bathing suits. (I’ll get over it) (At least my nails were done)

We headed to the beautiful Malibu Beach Inn for dinner, where we witnessed a beautiful sunset, drank champagne, and ate peach and blueberry cobbler. Also other things. And just when I was exhausted from all the happy tears… Ian checked us into Shutters in Santa Monica. For those of you unfamiliar, just know that the aesthetic is so on point the staff all wear Vineyard Vines and my room was littered with ginger jars.