I saw the news about Penn Badgley getting engaged. And my first, real, human thought was: “Huh. Good for him.”
And then I scrolled past it.
But later, I was washing dishes, and my mind wandered back to it. Not because I’m a huge fan, but because of that word everyone was using: “surprise.”
What does that even mean anymore? In a world where people hire photographers to hide in bushes to capture the moment, is anything really a surprise? Or is it just another performance?
My Un-Instagrammable Engagement Story
It made me think about my own engagement. There was no photographer. There was no scenic overlook. My now-husband tried to propose to me in our messy living room, and I, being completely oblivious, kept talking over him about the weird noise the refrigerator was making. He had to literally say, “Can you please be quiet for one second?”
It was awkward. It was not Instagram-worthy. It was us.
And that’s what I hope for everyone. I hope your big moments are messy and real and perfectly imperfect. I hope they are so “you” that the story would sound boring to anyone else, but makes your heart squeeze every time you remember it.
The Pressure to Perform Your Love
The pressure to have a “surprise” that is also a “spectacle” is a modern kind of torture. It turns a deeply personal question into a public event. It makes people spend thousands of dollars and months of secret planning, all for a few minutes of drama.
But what is the point? The point is the two of you. The point is the quiet conversation that comes after, where you talk about your future with giddy, disbelieving voices. The point is the private, unshareable look in each other’s eyes.
That’s the stuff that builds a marriage. Not the viral video.
So when I see a “surprise engagement” like Penn’s that seems to have been genuinely private, it gives me hope. It feels like a small rebellion against the need to perform our love for others.
Why a Sanctuary Beats a Spectacle Every Time
And looking at his fiancé, Domiziano, I think I get it. His world isn’t Hollywood. It’s art and activism. It’s messy and real. Which makes me think…
Can you imagine how peaceful that must be for him?
To go from a set where everyone knows you as “Joe,” where fans have complicated feelings about you, where your every move is analyzed… to coming home to someone who sees you? Someone who wants to talk about a painting they’re working on, or a social cause they’re fighting for, and couldn’t care less about the box office numbers for your show?
That’s not a relationship. That’s a sanctuary.
Tear Up Your Dating Checklist
This whole thing has been rattling around in my head because it challenges the silly little checklists we so often carry into dating.
- We want someone who has a “good job.” Check.
- We want someone who likes the same movies. Check.
- We want someone our friends will approve of. Check.
But what about the person who offers you peace? What about the person who feels like a deep, calming breath after a long day? That’s not on the checklist. That’s a feeling. And it’s the only thing that truly matters.
Your Love Story Doesn’t Need an Audience
My advice, for what it’s worth, is this: Fight for the boring moments. Fight for the right to have a relationship that exists largely off-camera. The inside jokes, the silent understandings, the comfort of just being together without an agenda—that is the foundation. An engagement, a wedding, it’s just the celebration of that foundation.
Don’t let the world tell you how your love should look. Don’t let algorithms and highlight reels make you feel like your quiet, steady love is any less valid than a grand, surprise gesture.
Build a love that feels like home. However, that looks good for you. And if someone asks you to marry you while you’re complaining about the fridge, trust me, it makes for a much better story later.
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