Dear Geraldine,

I’ve been with Andrea (not her real name) for five years now. We’re happy—properly happy—and I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone. I’d like to ask her to marry me on Valentine’s Day.

Here’s the trouble. Andrea went through a dreadful divorce before we met. It knocked the wind out of her, and then some. She’s rebuilt her life carefully, brick by brick, and she’s always said she’s content with how things are. I don’t want to frighten her. I don’t want her to think I’m trying to rush her or drag her back into something she escaped from.

I’m old-fashioned, Geraldine. I believe in marriage. I want to spend the rest of my life with Andrea as her husband. I know I’m not her ex, and I would never put her through what he did, but how do I make her see that without risking everything we have?

Yours,
Romantic Ron

Dear Ron,

Five years is not a whim. You are not wrong to want marriage. Nor is Andrea wrong to value the life she’s painstakingly stitched back together. The mistake would be to treat this as a question that must be answered, rather than a truth that can be shared.

So, here’s what I suggest, and I say this kindly: the engagement ring stays in your pocket. At least for now.

Instead, tell her this plainly and without ceremony:

You love her. You are happy. And if she ever wanted marriage again, you would be honoured to be her husband.

Then stop talking.

Don’t ask her to decide. Don’t ask her to reassure you or promise anything at all. Just let the words sit where they land.

A woman who has survived a traumatic marriage does not fear love; she fears losing herself again. What she needs to see—over time, and through your actions—is that being with you does not cost her her hard-won peace.

Valentine’s Day needn’t be a proposal to be meaningful. Sometimes the most romantic gesture is showing someone that they are safe to stay exactly where they are.

If, one day, Andrea decides she wants more, she’ll already know where you stand. And if she doesn’t, you will still have acted with honesty, patience, and respect.

Those, Ron, are not small things.

Yours,

Geraldine