V-Day Memories: The One Where I Got Engaged & Then Contemplated Climbing Out the Window

My mate Claire from The Good, The Bad & The Ugly is doing a blog carnival for Valentine’s Day themed around the title of her blog, so in true me style (late as well), I’ll share a funny, albeit bad V-Day story. We’ll call it…The One Where I Got Engaged…and Considered Climbing Out the Bathroom Window a short while later…

Prior to being with the boyf (who incidentally is cooking me a fabulous meal as I type this), I’ve had more dodgy V-Day’s than I care to remember. Dodgy underwear, furry handcuffs, sex dice, one of those enormous padded cards like what you used to get in the 70s and 80s only I got it in the late 90s… Satin covered with a big dog on it and so big it drowned me out…

To be fair, none of these gifts will ever be as bad as the pair of clear heeled stripper shoes an ex gave me for Christmas one year and insisted that I wear them to a gathering at a bar…

It’s not just about the gift clearly but I think what stands out to me is that I was jumping through hoops about V-Day in the past because I wasn’t really being myself and admitting that I really wasn’t that fussed about any of these guys. They were buying me gifts and taking me out to dinner but I didn’t feel ‘cared’ for and actually, some of the ones who were real dipsticks almost expected me to be grateful that they’d thrown me a ‘bone’.

There is of course, The One Where I Got Engaged. V-Day 2002. Really I do wonder if I’ve been on crack in the past… I actually thought that as I was being asked to get married that I should say yes. Lunacy I know, but I was young, very naive, and looking for love in all the wrong places.

I actually knew about the proposal in advance and was sort of dreading the whole thing because he, Mr Brownsuit (so named by this blogs readers a few years back for wearing brown from head to foot – something black folk really should not do if they don’t want to look like a big piece of poo), badgered me and removed every drop of romance out of the whole thing. He talked to me about the budget, made quips about how I should be grateful, and then proceeded to bitch and whine his way through dinner at the very dark Chinese restaurant near Baker Street.

In fact, he was so annoying, we had an argument shortly before he proposed and he told me that I wasn’t allowed to ‘dwell’ on things – he was 34 and I was 23 and he was very bossy and controlling. We had what I thought was a passionate relationship but it was actually just very dramatic especially with his jealousy and possessiveness. Seeing an opportunity, I told him that we didn’t have to do ‘it’ tonight but of course he totally disregarded what I said, and got down on one knee a short while later. He had this look that said ‘Don’t you dare make a t*t out of me’ and to be fair, you can’t exactly say no when someone asks you in public.

I have this tricky habit of breaking out in uncontrollable giggles when I’m nervous or scared so of course I annoyed him even further and had to gather my composure.

‘Just do a legger!’ a voice chimed in my head.

‘Don’t be silly! Can’t you see he’s trying to show you how much he loves you! Maybe he’s behaving like an asshole because he’s nervous and doesn’t think you’re interested!’ another voice chimed.

I did one of those ridiculously tight smiles and murmured yes.

‘Be a little bit more bloody enthusiastic!’ Mr Brownsuit said snidely. Really I must have been on crack!

So I went into the faking orgasm mode but toned it down to ‘feigning happiness at my dodgy engagement’ mode.

He slipped the solitaire ring on my finger and I admit that I thought it was a little small – interestingly, as I convinced myself of the relationship, it inflated in size and only shrunk as we approached breakup time.

Everyone clapped and cheered and we shared an awkward kiss like that awful one between Whitney Houston and Kevin Costner in The Bodyguard.

‘OMG! Are you f*cking crazy?’ reverberated in my head.

It was the weirdest engagement I’ve ever been at although admittedly I’ve only been engaged once…. The tension was weird and he turned into Mr Personality as strangers came over to congratulate us. To watch him wax lyrical about us, I wondered if I was engaged to Jeckyll and Hyde.

I excused myself and went to the bathroom where I admit that I wondered what would happen if I did a bunk and climbed out the window. But it was quite high up and whilst I’m petite, I’m not a snake or a contortionist…

When we got back to my flat, where my best mate was waiting with the champagne and a look that said ‘Keep it together and let’s talk later’, he had a right go at me and to be fair, even though he was out of order, he was right to be annoyed because I’d said yes to something that I really should have said no to. I didn’t want to create anymore conflict (this became my theme) so I decided to suck it up (figuratively and literally by downing the champagne) and start acting like a happy engaged person as I felt like I’d made my bed and had to lie in it. We lasted another 14 rocky months where I came up with every excuse not to plan a wedding – just opening a bridal magazine had me get panicky like Carrie did with the wedding dress when she was engaged to Aidan.

I’m very chilled about Valentine’s Day – it is just one day. Thankfully I’m older, wiser, and not looking for big empty gestures and I’ve also learned the big lesson to not just go along with things and hope it’ll sort itself out later.

Tagged as: ending relationships, engagement, marriage, relationships, valentine's day