Sep 7
Three years feel like the right time for me to finally say it: I want to marry this man. He has shown me, over and over, what love really means. He never lets me go to bed angry, because he values peace more than pride. He protects my heart, my peace, and my sanity as if they were treasures meant to be guarded with his life.
He buys my needs, not because I ask, but because he pays attention to me in ways no one else ever has. He provides me comfort and relaxation, reminding me that I deserve to rest, to be cared for, to be safe. With him, I don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone. Sometimes we eat out, sometimes we travel, and in those moments, the world feels like it shrinks into just us two, laughing, sharing meals, building memories.
He gave me the world but keeps me on my toes. He leads me closer to God, and in his love, I have found peace, joy, and wholeness. He doesn’t just love me—he makes me grow, makes me dream, makes me believe that forever is possible.
In the first year of our relationship, we spent time figuring out what we truly meant to each other. We fought—not as enemies, but as two people learning how to love deeply, how to navigate differences, how to build a bond strong enough to withstand life’s tests. I did not see our arguments as battles to win, but as opportunities to strengthen our connection.
You showed me the scars of your past—the stories that still haunt you, the traumas you thought would scare me away. You revealed your vulnerabilities, believing I might laugh or run from you. But I didn’t. Instead, I drew stars around your scars, crowned them with care, praised your courage, and comforted you. I held your pain as if it were my own, because loving you means embracing every piece of who you are, even the parts that once felt broken.
In the second year of our relationship, we ventured into our first business together. We figured out how to balance our dreams and our partnership, how to navigate challenges side by side. But with that visibility came people’s comments. Many were harsh, judgmental, and full of negativity aimed at you. Of course, it hurt me, because I love you fiercely and I cannot bear to hear anything said against you. But in that moment, I realized something important: my respect for those who lack respect for you disappeared completely. I saw who truly matters, and who does not, and I chose to protect our bond, letting go of those who sought to harm us with their words.
And in the third year of our relationship, everything crystallized for me. Seeing how far we had come, how we had grown together, how we had faced challenges, celebrated victories, and loved each other through it all—it made me realize without a doubt that we should get married. It was not a sudden thought, but a natural conclusion to the journey we had walked side by side.
So now, after three years, after laughter and tears, arguments and forgiveness, revelations and acceptance, and challenges faced together in love, life, and business, I can say it with certainty and without hesitation: I want to marry this man. Because with him, I have found not only love, but home—a place where my heart feels safe, my soul feels seen, and my life feels full.
He buys my needs, not because I ask, but because he pays attention to me in ways no one else ever has. He provides me comfort and relaxation, reminding me that I deserve to rest, to be cared for, to be safe. With him, I don’t have to carry the weight of the world alone. Sometimes we eat out, sometimes we travel, and in those moments, the world feels like it shrinks into just us two, laughing, sharing meals, building memories.
He gave me the world but keeps me on my toes. He leads me closer to God, and in his love, I have found peace, joy, and wholeness. He doesn’t just love me—he makes me grow, makes me dream, makes me believe that forever is possible.
In the first year of our relationship, we spent time figuring out what we truly meant to each other. We fought—not as enemies, but as two people learning how to love deeply, how to navigate differences, how to build a bond strong enough to withstand life’s tests. I did not see our arguments as battles to win, but as opportunities to strengthen our connection.
You showed me the scars of your past—the stories that still haunt you, the traumas you thought would scare me away. You revealed your vulnerabilities, believing I might laugh or run from you. But I didn’t. Instead, I drew stars around your scars, crowned them with care, praised your courage, and comforted you. I held your pain as if it were my own, because loving you means embracing every piece of who you are, even the parts that once felt broken.
In the second year of our relationship, we ventured into our first business together. We figured out how to balance our dreams and our partnership, how to navigate challenges side by side. But with that visibility came people’s comments. Many were harsh, judgmental, and full of negativity aimed at you. Of course, it hurt me, because I love you fiercely and I cannot bear to hear anything said against you. But in that moment, I realized something important: my respect for those who lack respect for you disappeared completely. I saw who truly matters, and who does not, and I chose to protect our bond, letting go of those who sought to harm us with their words.
And in the third year of our relationship, everything crystallized for me. Seeing how far we had come, how we had grown together, how we had faced challenges, celebrated victories, and loved each other through it all—it made me realize without a doubt that we should get married. It was not a sudden thought, but a natural conclusion to the journey we had walked side by side.
So now, after three years, after laughter and tears, arguments and forgiveness, revelations and acceptance, and challenges faced together in love, life, and business, I can say it with certainty and without hesitation: I want to marry this man. Because with him, I have found not only love, but home—a place where my heart feels safe, my soul feels seen, and my life feels full.
