As a girl, I never fantasized about what my wedding day would look like. I used to mock my friends who would fawn over bridal magazines and plan details like colors, dresses, and locations. I never gave it a passing thought—aside from the fact that I knew one day I would get married. Now it’s actually happening and I wish I would have had those childhood fantasies because they could seriously help me out right now.
My name is Michelle. I’m a 30 year-old journalist who enjoys the simple things in life. On December 30, 2017, I became engaged to the coolest, most handsome dude I know named Joe.
We met in the summer of 2012 at my cousin’s house. Joe was a close friend of my cousin’s fiancé, we were both single, so naturally we were introduced. Later in the evening he asked for my number, but I wanted nothing to do with him, but I gave it to him anyway in hopes that he would leave me alone.
Turns out, his persistence is one of his best qualities because he messaged me everyday no matter how rude I was to him—and believe me, I was no angel. I even blew him off for our first date to go clubbing in D.C. with one of my girlfriends. He still continued to pursue me even after that. When I finally decided to actually give him a chance, he turned out to be a lot of fun and we’ve been together ever since.
Our engagement story is one that I will never be able to live down. We were having a game night at our home for his birthday (he’s a NYE baby), so our house was packed with people. He’s known to be a little extra and over the top sometimes, so when he said that he wanted to make a speech, I didn’t think it strange.
To be completely honest, I ignored everything he was saying and didn’t pay attention until I heard him say my name. I turned around and there he was, down on one knee, with a ring asking me to marry him. People were cheering, and screaming, and staring at me so I did what my gut told me to do—I walked out the front door.
Yup. Left him there on one knee. I didn’t know what else to do—I panicked. I didn’t stay out there long because it was freezing. When I came back in I was so embarrassed—I hate crying in front of people. So I went with my gut reaction again and hit him. I know, what is wrong with me?
After finally saying yes, and putting the ring on, I was the happiest I had been in forever.
Now here I am, trying to plan a wedding that I never wanted with a guy that I’ve always wanted. What the hell am I supposed to do? We are set to be married on December 30 at our church, right here in Baltimore. The problem is, I wanted a small, intimate ceremony with a backyard barbecue reception, and he wants a big wedding with all the fixings.
Compromise is one our biggest strengths, so because he always lets me have my way, I figured I’d let him have his big wedding. Little did I know, I’d be the one planning everything.
Shoot me please.
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Michelle Harris is the digital content coordinator at Baltimore Magazine. We’re excited to have her as a new #Hitched blogger.
