Today, I had a difficult conversation with Paige. She told me that the ring I got her wasn’t quite what she had hoped for. Before anyone jumps to my defense, I want to be clear: this is entirely on me. I could have gotten her a bigger ring, taken more time with the details, and really considered what would make her happy. Instead, I went with a ring I liked, thinking it would be a surprise. And to add to the mix, when I called her dad to ask for his blessing, he accidentally spoiled that surprise because we were playing phone tag.
But that’s beside the point. During dinner, my sister made an offhand comment that I should have gotten Paige a bigger ring, and later, Paige echoed that sentiment. Honestly, I feel bad. I want Paige to love her ring, not to feel like it reflects how much — or little — I value our marriage, because I do, deeply. My reasoning at the time was that I could save more, pay off debts, and create a stronger financial foundation for our family and the multiple children we plan on having.
Relationships are full of this tug-of-war between what we feel is practical and what our partner feels is meaningful. It’s a balancing act. I never cared much about rings, but in hindsight, it’s obvious how important it is to women. I should’ve known that from the start. It’s moments like these where I realize that I get so caught up in my own thoughts and goals that I forget to pause and consider what might be on Paige’s mind. It’s a real challenge, but one I need to grow from.
The thing is, I did want to give her something special. And she feels bad even bringing it up, as if she’s burdening me with this expectation. She’s not. She wants me to realize, on my own, that this is something important to her. And part of me does want to get her a bigger ring — not because I care about the size of the ring itself, but because Paige cares. I care about her happiness, and that’s reason enough.
Of course, rings are expensive. Supporting everything on a single income isn’t easy. I save in Bitcoin, and the last thing I want is to sell it, only to look back in ten years and regret losing out on what that savings could become. What I think I’ll do is start setting aside $100 every week for the next 30 weeks. That way, in a little over half a year, Paige can pick out the ring she truly wants, and I’ll avoid piling up debt — even with the temptation of 0% APR credit cards.
Adulting is hard. Sometimes it feels like too much, and all you want to do is scream or punch something, just to release the pressure. Today, I felt that. Not just because of the ring conversation, but because some days, life just feels overwhelming. But, instead of giving in, I pushed through. Kept reading. Kept coding. Kept writing. Some days, that’s all you can do: keep going, even when you feel like breaking.
You wonder sometimes if you’ll look back on life and think, “I wish I had tried less. I wish I hadn’t cared so much. I wish I’d chosen an easier path.” But that’s not how we’re wired, is it? We want to make a difference. We want to be recognized. We want to build a life that matters.
And Paige, you deserve the nice things that come with that life. You deserve a ring that symbolizes the depth of my love for you, not just because you asked, but because I want to give it to you. You’re right — it shouldn’t take you reminding me. I apologize for not thinking more about you when I made the decision to propose. You deserve a ring that reflects the love we share, a love that runs deep.
10/14/24
Conor Jay Chepenik
