Last week I attended sales training for work. I’ve been to a few of these in recently and each trainer always has their ‘thing’, their own sales method that they’re pushing – imagine that scene with the pen from Wolf of Wall Street and you pretty much get the drift.
This year the trainer’s thing was ‘considering the selling relationship like a loving relationship’ (I know what you’re thinking, a bloke considering the ins and outs of relationships. I nearly fell off my seat!). Anyway, as part of this training he showed a graph of time vs commitment, commenting that you both need to show the same amount of commitment over time for it to work.
Luckily the women in the room refrained from pointing out that he was stealing the plot from ‘He’s Just Not That Into You’. But I jokingly commented to my colleagues that, never mind my sales pitch, I need to reconsider my relationship.
Mr Miner and I have been together for five years this year and people increasingly question the prospect of rings and an engagement. I know it’s not really anyone’s business but our own, but five years is a nice rounded number and I fear that some friends and family (read mothers) may get more persistent this year.
I am not going to pretend to be all nonchalant and cool and say I don’t get excited about sparkly rings and perfect ivory dresses. I have fantasised about walking down an aisle in a beautiful dress, towards a handsome man in a smart suit, in the same way millions of other women have. If you had asked me five years ago if I would get married, I was still under the romantic impression that I would be all grown-up and married by the time I was thirty, but in reality that hasn’t happened and I’m ok with that.
Currently every big event is approached with a sense of excitement mixed with fear. Excitement at the prospect of the fairy tale proposal, and fear that I would actually have to make the conscious decision to say yes and we would have a wedding!
I’m sure a lot of people are afraid of getting married. Will the thrill of the relationship wear off once you close the sale and you’re just working at keeping it going? I expect it does a bit, but that’s not really my fear, I’m not scared of marriage, I’m scared of the wedding itself.
Safely in fairy tale land, I am happy imagining big white Cinderella dresses, beautifully dressed tables, huge displays of lilies and roses and a perfect, white, three-tiered cake that looks too beautiful to eat, but in reality I find the thought of wedding plan so overwhelming, it brings me out in a cold sweat.
I have friends who have committed themselves to wedding planning as though it’s a full time job. They have spreadsheets and mood boards, stacks of bridal magazines, (which alone put a sizeable dent in the bridal budget) and spare rooms that look like they may possibly be running the World’s trade in lace covered mason jars and tea lights (Pinterest has a lot to answer for).
I, meanwhile, don’t even know which country I would want to get married in. Australia is my home, but my oldest friends and family are back in the UK and the thought of choosing between my homeland and my ‘home’, not to mention how this affects who would and wouldn’t be able to attend, makes my head want to explode all over those pristine bridal magazines.
There are plenty of well-meaning people who say we should just get married in some half-way, tropical island location, or have two weddings, one in each place. But did you know the halfway point between the UK and Australia is either Burma or Bangladesh? Both of which have serious political unrest and the Australian government advises travellers to ‘reconsider their need to travel’… well I suppose we wouldn’t end up paying for too many guests that way.
So, really, why would Mr Miner want to ask me to marry him unless he was 100% sure I would say yes? He tends towards practicality over romance and so he’s unlikely to be splashing out on a fancy rock that he may well have to return (after all he does hate returning stuff).
Having said all this, I don’t question his commitment; we have a business together, we’re saving for our home loan deposit, he agreed to spending a whole three week holiday with my friends and family and he’s the one that texts to see how may day has been or to say goodnight when I always forget.
In truth, as far as commitment goes, I’m not too concerned that I don’t have a ring, but maybe he should be?!
Now, fingers crossed he doesn’t read this before April – ANZAC day is our anniversary and I don’t want to ruin my chances of being surprised with something sparkly!