i wasn’t expecting this. ok, maybe that’s not entirely true, because i
never thought this was out of the realm of possibility. i just didn’t expect it
to happen for another year, maybe two. we hadn’t discussed marriage much
before. so when he got down on one knee on the deck of our house under a full
moon, on his birthday, i honestly thought he was doing a lunge. we had spent
that day at Disneyland and came home complaining about our achy backs. “that
looks like a good idea,” i said right before i was about to join his lunge.
then a ring appeared and rendered me motionless.
i’m not really sure he asked the question
and i think my first flustered response was “where did you get that ring?”
which was followed by several more flustered responses including “are you sure?”
and “are you serious?” while he remained kneeling and looking at me sideways.
finally, there was a “yes,” or something like “well of course i’ll marry you.
duh,” followed by hugs and happy tears and me trying not to hyperventilate.
very romantic!
taken roughly 10 hours before the proposal at the happiest place on earth, where Tico (real name: Warren) and i spent his 36th birthday.
but let’s back this train up a minute and start at the beginning
with the story of how we got together, a story i’ve never shared here out of
respect for his privacy. but now that he’ll be the husband of someone who’s
kept a blog for over 10 years, i think it’s safe to say this will have to be
his first sacrifice for our marriage.
so once upon a time (roughly 4.5 years
ago), in a neighborhood very much like my own, two people met randomly at an
art gallery one night. the lady was there upon the invitation of a friend named Juan, whose then-girlfriend’s art was hanging on the walls. the gentleman
was there because he was one of the partners running the gallery. but there was
an extra element at play that night: a magical plastic chicken (appropriately)
named Pollo Magico.
Warren receiving the magic chicken in May 2010, taken the night we met
let me stop a moment to acknowledge how ridiculous this chicken
story will sound. let me also stop a moment to stress that this story is 100%
true, because the story of the love between Milla and Warren, like so many
other love stories, is seeped in magic (and delusion). in our case, the magic
came in the form of a plastic chicken our mutual friend Juan was mass
producing and passing out to all his friends that year, telling them it would
make their wishes come true. he even created a Facebook page for the chicken that
disseminates inspirational messages daily and wrote a manifesto he emails to
every new recipient.
the principle behind the magic chicken is
no different than the principle behind The Secret, in that we can attract
whatever we want into our lives by asking the universe. the chicken is just a
prop to get us visualizing our desire and then stating it in clear terms,
accepting that it will happen on its own time and “with ease and grace,” which is
the ending one is supposed to close every request to the chicken with.
naturally, as i listened to Juan tell me this while handing me my very own magic chicken, i rolled my eyes.
taken the same night at the gallery moments before i received my own magic chicken and met Warren. (of course, i was hoarding the cheese.)
as my friend urged me to remain open-minded and try it out, Warren
walked by us. i’ll confess my eyes followed him across the room while the rest
of my body registered an immediate attraction. he was pretty goddamn cute. as a joke, i looked at the magic
chicken in my hand and told it i wished that this dark, handsome stranger would kiss me
(confession: the R-rated version in my head was a bit more robust but let’s
keep it PG for the kids).
at that time, i was in the throes of a Big
Breakup and wasn’t looking for a new boyfriend as i still had a broken heart to
nurse. but i did want to get my groove back after many months of celibacy and
solitude and figured a kiss from a sexy, bearded man might help. plus, he had
really beautiful lips.
later that night and without knowing my
first request of the chicken, Juan introduced us. we exchanged a cordial
handshake, said “nice to meet you” and left it there. there was no kiss and
sparks did not fly. the whole exchange was rather unmemorable. soon after, i
went home alone and didn’t give Warren nor the chicken much more thought.
first photo of us taken at one of the parties at my house.
then things started happening. we began chatting on facebook
messenger, which led to the occasional phone chat and him coming to my parties.
still, it took a while to get things off the ground as i kept playing the part
of disinterested girl while stealing glances at his lips. of course, i did
recall my early wish on the magic chicken but shook my head at the
ludicrousness of it all and kept it to myself.
eventually, that kiss came (around October
2010) and kept coming for about a year. the first eight months of that year
were spent in this gray zone of dating but not really Dating, where we agreed
to keep things relaxed and casual. there would be no expectations nor
declarations of exclusivity and undying love. and i was comfortable with
this.
until i wasn’t, because the heart wants
what it wants and mine could no longer deny the fact that i enjoyed spending
time with Warren and that meant something significant, even as i tried to
convince myself that it didn’t.
game-changer day we spent together in February 2011 frolicking in the snow with my dogs. i remember coming home afterward full of feelings. a few months later, we had “the talk.”
the talk happened the weekend of memorial day in 2011, fueled by
drinks and an intimate dinner when we managed to confess our growing love for
each other. i even told him about my wish on the magic chicken. several lengthy
talks later and with our heads spinning, we agreed to be in an exclusive
relationship.
my 36th birthday, June 2012
the quits calling hurt but it didn’t hurt like hell. it was kind
and respectful, with him saying he couldn’t offer me the things he thought i
needed in a partner and me nodding silently in resignation. it was not a bad
breakup and we resolved to stay friends. but staying friends got muddy when dinners turned into breakfasts and i attended his family’s
christmas gathering. so after more kind and respectful conversations, i
requested a no-contact policy.
that kept us in our own corners for a little
over a year, but not easily. i missed him terribly but wouldn’t admit it. he
missed me and would admit it, often asking if we could hang out, even just for
coffee. with a few exceptions, i refused. so he began stalking my Facebook page
and if ever i complained about having a cold, a tupperware container full of
homemade soup would appear on my doorstep. i found it slightly creepy but
mostly romantic because i still cared too, immensely so, but i didn’t see a future
together so i became set on getting over him with online dating.
if you ask Warren the story of how we got together, he’ll likely
say, “she put a curse on me with a magic chicken” and that isn’t entirely
untrue. certainly, i asked the chicken to bring him into my life, and given the
initial success, i did also ask it for a lifelong partner. that time, i was
sitting on the edge of my bed, single and despondent over my lackluster love
life, as Warren and i had split up over a year earlier and online dating wasn’t
going very well.
i pulled the chicken out of its secret
compartment in my wallet, where it still lives, and said, “ok, chicken. i’m
tired and getting older. bring me not just someone, but the one. surprise me if
you must. deliver on your own schedule. but make it real, make it right, make
it long-lasting and make me happy. with ease and grace.”
Dre Day Los Angeles, February 2014
ok, so what now? there’s a wedding to plan, details to iron out,
guest list to create and many questions to be answered. the true
response to all of this is i have no idea how this will look. ok,
maybe i have some idea but i don’t want to think about it much. i would rather have an
invitation show up at my house a few months before and then arrive at the
appointed day and place in a classy white dress with perfect makeup applied by
elves, who also sucked 20 pounds out of me.
this fantasy is fueled in large part to
the myriad married people who, after finding out i became engaged, advised me
to save myself the expense and headache and just elope. i could get behind the
eloping idea but my beloved wants something more substantial. so we’re thinking a
very small ceremony populated by family and close friends followed by a big
party for all friends, but probably not until 2016 due to extenuating
circumstances to be mentioned later. then we can ride off into the sunset
together and live happily ever after, as getting married will surely solve all
our relationship problems, right?
on a boat in Costa Rica, September 2013
when i consider what marriage means to me, something i’ve been
doing a lot of recently, my answer is “i’m
not really sure.” this is not meant as a copout nor a red flag, but i honestly
don’t believe any newlywed can speak about marriage with authority. that is for
people who’ve had long marriages and have plenty to reflect on.
that is for people like my parents, who’ve
been married 45 years, most of them happy but many of them rough like the first
10 when they were two of nine people living in a three-room apartment in soviet
russia. of that time, they said they fought every day and likely would have
separated if they didn’t have children. i’m not sure i could have remained as
strong.
top of the rock in New York City, January 2014
Warren and i have also been having lots of conversations about
what marriage means to us, not all of them pleasant but all of them necessary.
through our talks, i’ve realized how much i’ve been clinging to the idea of
myself as the independent single girl who doesn’t believe in the permanence of
love. it’s the mindset i’ve entered all my relationships with, probably to my
detriment, and despite finding myself with a ring on my finger and a man who
really loves me, this useless outlook still informs many of my thoughts and actions.
being crabby in San Francisco, August 2013
thankfully, it feels different this time. it feels healthier,
primarily because of our communication. with rare exceptions, Warren and i have
managed to work out our disputes with maturity, a stark contrast to my past
relationships where even a minor disagreement could erupt into a world war. but
now, there is kindness in the honesty, respect in the delivery and openness to
the responses. we go out of our way not to hurt each other.
in front of a world heritage temple in Kyoto, Japan, May 2014
so now comes the happily ever after part. i’m excited about all
that and (marginally) excited about planning a wedding, but if i’m totally
honest with myself and the internet, i’m most excited about the other and
perhaps more pressing major development in my life: the arrival of a son, due
next March.