As a disclaimer, this theory does not apply to the men in your life who say things like “why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free?”. In cases such as those, he’s not dragging his feet, he doesn’t really think you’re a human. You may want to reevaluate that relationship rather than waste time reading this article.
I used to be one of those people who would make jokes in front of my friend’s long-term boyfriend implying we were all waiting for him to propose. I’d complain that she couldn’t spend time with him instead of me until we saw the ring on her finger. My friend was never seriously concerned about the timing of her wedding, but she, understandably, also didn’t want to wait forever. To be clear, the boyfriend in question is an amazing, fun guy, faithful to my bestie and loyal to her friends (including me). And he’s also now her husband. The last joke I made about the lack of a diamond on her finger (which I could see was making him uncomfortable) was at a brunch the weekend before he proposed – an intimate, surprise proposal, with a party at a restaurant afterwards with all of their friends and family. I was sadly out of town at a non-related bachelorette party and couldn’t go, but once I found out about his display of love, I felt slightly guilty. Why had I been pestering this guy that I knew was going to propose? That I knew was 100% committed to a lifetime of loving my friend? What did I care about the timing of it? Why did I, as the third party, need to input my opinion and pressure him to make a move, when I knew he was going to eventually do it anyway? And why was I trying to make him feel bad about it?
All very good questions, but not ones that I actually thought about for very long. Not long, that is, until I was the one in the question-popping seat. Only when I was the one that had to do the asking did I fully understand why some guys seem to be taking their sweet time (and realize this should be accepted as a perfectly OK, non-worrisome thing to do).
My boyfriend and I knew early on that we wanted a future together. He was committed, I was committed, and we knew we’d make it work (even if that entailed a 2-year, transatlantic, long-distance relationship). When I casually asked what his thoughts on marriage were, he said that it had never really mattered much to him, that in fact, his parents had only gotten married a few years earlier. They’d been in a committed relationship for the past few decades, with no need for a certificate to prove their love. He felt that marriage didn’t really mean all that much if a person tells the other they are committed. That it should be all about trust.
I didn’t disagree, but, well, I wanted to get married. I wanted to have an excuse for a giant party with family and friends. I wanted to let the whole world know about our love for each other. For me, marriage isn’t about tying someone down out of the fear that otherwise I’ll suddenly get abandoned. Rather, it’s about the cultural significance a marriage carries, about the message it sends to everyone else of the special bond you’ve found with another human. ‘Fair enough,’ he said, and we agreed that since it was important to me, we’d get married. And that I’d be the one to propose. I think it’s a whole other story about why I wanted to be the one to do it, but long story short we agreed I would be the one to ask, when I was ready, and I’d give him a chain to wear around his neck instead of a diamond.
This was 3 years ago. I knew that I was going to propose for 3 years, that I was already with the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. And yet, I was dragging my feet.
Now, the benefit of being a woman in this situation is that no one makes dumb jokes about why my boyfriend didn’t have a chain around his neck yet. No one, except for a few friends that I had told about the set up, expected me to make a move, no one sneered that the reason we weren’t engaged was because of my lack of action. And, given my boyfriend wasn’t in a hurry to get a certificate, he didn’t ask any questions either.
So, I dragged my feet for two years with the excuse that we were long distance. When I finally moved to the same city (and the same country) as him, I bought a chain before I even landed. And then I still didn’t propose. For an entire year I hid the chain in my underwear drawer. I was in the same city. I had the jewelry ready. I knew I wanted to propose, but I still. didn’t. do it. And I think this is probably where a lot of guys who are also ‘feet-draggers’ find themselves.
(I’d like to add here that if you are in a relationship and are impatiently waiting for a proposal from the other person, think about why you want to get married to them, and make sure that they aren’t dragging their feet because they don’t actually want to be married, or because they don’t even know you want them to do it. The whole premise of my theory rests on the basis that the two people in question have already engaged (see what I did there) in a conversation about getting married, and the one doing the proposal is aware that the other would like to be married to them.)
The first reason he might be ‘dragging his feet’ is that it takes much more planning than you’d think. At least more than I’d ever considered. Public or private proposal? Romantic with rose petals or casual with their favorite food? On vacation or at home? A whole day of fun leading up to it or on the spot with no warning? Afterparty with friends or alone time with champagne? Chocolate or vanilla cupcake to hide the ring (chain) in? When your partner loves you, they might say they don’t really care how you do it (maybe they’ll ask please don’t do it in a basketball stadium full of strangers), but it still feels like something you really want to get right. You want to propose to that person in the way that they wanted, that they always dreamed of. You want to make it perfect for them, and there’s a lot of minor details that you could mess up. Even if you are planning something casual, the paralysis of all of the decision making can slow you down. Maybe he’s taking his time to make sure the proposal is on a date that is special for the two of you. Maybe he’s taking his time because he needs to save up money for the hiking trip he wants to take you on so he can propose at the top of that mountain. Or maybe he’s taking his time because the restaurant he wanted to reserve is fully booked up for the next three months. Who knows? But there’s a lot of decisions and more logistics than you’d think.
The second reason he could be dragging his feet is he might not be sure what he’s even fucking supposed to say. At least, this is why I dragged mine for a long time. I know ‘will you marry me’ is a pretty common way to go, but what do you say before that? Is there meant to be a speech? If so, how long should it be? How are you supposed to sum up everything that your partner means to you in a two minute spiel? What if you forget what you wanted to say? Maybe you should make it short and sweet. Ah, but if you cut out a certain part, then you didn’t list all the ways they’ve supported you the past year, so maybe you should bulk it up a bit in the middle. But now, by the time you’re done reading off the reasons for said support it’ll be 3AM when you finally ask the four most important words. Might as well just keep it short and sweet, get rid of the whole speech and stick to ‘will you marry me?’. Each weekend I’d tell myself, ‘OK, you can’t start planning the logistics of this until you at least know what you’re going to say. Just do that. Just write down what you’ll say.’ And each weekend I’d planned to do it, I wouldn’t. I didn’t even know where to start. It can take time to make sure you do this part of the proposal right too, and he might be ‘dragging his feet’ because he doesn’t even know where to start telling you all the ways he loves you.
The final, and (maybe?) most controversial, reason is fear. Fear of messing up the proposal, of course, as it takes a lot of nerve to propose to spend the rest of your life with someone, but also the fear that you’re making the wrong decision. This might scare some people, but marriage actually is a life-defining choice (whether it lasts forever or not). It’s something you could, technically, get wrong. Saying you choose someone, forever, is a big fucking deal, whether marriage ‘means’ a lot to you or not. Even if you promised that you were committed to someone before, marriage is, like I said before, a proclamation to the rest of the world about your decision to love this person. If you get it wrong, everyone will know. If you never get married, if you never propose, and you get it wrong, maybe you can admit things didn’t work out in a more private manner and move on.
When faced with a huge, life-altering decision, most (rational) people will have to think about it for some time. Once you’ve decided that you’re going to do it, you start to question why you want to do it. Am I just proposing so I can get married ASAP to make my family happy? Am I just doing it because I know it will make my partner satisfied? Am I just doing it because my partner’s friend keeps making dumb jokes about waiting for a ring? Even if you are fully, eternally committed to this person that you love, you will question the choice you’re making. And when other people are putting pressure on you to make that choice, it makes you question everything even more. It’s hard to block out other people’s opinions and desires, and taking the time to self-reflect and make sure you’re proposing for the right reasons, well, takes time.
He actually might be ‘dragging his feet’ because he’s not sure. Not that he’s not sure of his love, of the loyalty he has to you and to your future together, but that he’s not sure about his motivations for marriage. You should only propose when you’re fully ready to do it, otherwise you might continue to ask yourself these questions after the proposal, maybe even after the wedding day. It’s better to take the time now and know that you only made the choice to get married because you whole-heartedly wanted to, out of your own free will.
So, go on, let him ‘drag his feet’ (for a little bit of time at least), I say! Because after being in his shoes, I get it now. All of the speculation from other people, all of the questions, all of the pressure, aren’t going to make him hurry up. And demands, such as ultimatums, make people choose out of fear, not out of love. I’m no expert, really, as I’ve only ever proposed once in my life, but having been on a couple sides of the experience now, I would say it’s probably best to avoid the back-handed jokes about ringless fingers.
It's not you, co. 