My MIL tore my dress at her daughter’s engagement, screaming, “How dare you outshine my daughter!”
Freelance, Fate, and a Fumbling Proposal
hello, I’m Josie and at 33 I’ve spent more time with cameras than with people. Growing up in a family that owned a series of hotels and restaurants, you might expect me to continue with the family Legacy; however, I chose a different path. I swapped the comforts of the family business for the unpredictability of a camera and the natural world as my backdrop.
Freelance photography became my calling, capturing images from magazines and advertisements, driven by those who appreciated my unique perspective. My photography journey turned pivotal when my old trusted camera, my companion on countless assignments, finally broke down.
Instead of seeking a quick online replacement, I decided to visit a local tech store, wanting to get a feel for a new camera before making a decision. That day in the store felt routine until it didn’t.
As I was perusing the camera aisle, a guy around my age approached me. His demeanor was relaxed, and he lacked the aggressive pitch of a typical salesperson.
“Looking for something specific?” he asked. I half jokingly responded, “yeah, something that won’t quit on me mid shot”.
He chuckled in understanding. We started talking about what I usually shoot: mostly nature scenes, but sometimes urban landscapes to keep things interesting.
His name was Thomas. He guided me through the latest models, describing the specifications with the enthusiasm of someone reciting their favorite prose. Refreshingly, he never pushed the most expensive options on me.
Eventually he pointed out a sleek model that seemed just right. “Willing to take this one for a spin?” he suggested.
Deciding felt surprisingly easy and soon Thomas was finalizing my purchase. As he handed me the bag, he casually asked for my number, “just to make sure everything’s working great”.
I saw through a subtle ploy but played along, joking that any spam text would cost him a coffee. True to his word, Thomas did call, but not about the camera; instead, he asked me out.
I accepted, thinking, “why not? life is short after all”. From our first meeting at the camera store to countless adventures thereafter, Thomas and I became inseparable.
We shared many moments, him with his quirky tech knowledge and me capturing the city through my lens. About eight months later, Thomas excitedly proposed a weekend getaway.
Despite my teasing threat of a Survival Camp leading to him sleeping on the couch, I eagerly packed. He picked me up in his beloved but rickety old Jeep, and we drove off, the playlist setting the mood as we both got lost in anticipation.
He had booked us a quaint cabin by a lake, not fancy but perfect for us. That night as we sat by the fire roasting marshmallows, the simplicity of the setting perfect for golden brown treats, I could sense he had something important to say.
Thomas fumbled with his words, a stick poking at the fire, trying to articulate his feelings. As I sat by the crackling campfire munching on a marshmallow, Thomas got a thoughtful look in his eyes.
“I’ve been thinking a lot,” he said, causing me to raise an eyebrow and mock alarm. “Thinking can be dangerous, you know,” I teased.
Thomas chuckled, took a deep breath, and turned to face me, the fire light casting shadows across his features. “I love this, you know, us. And I’m hoping you feel the same way,” he confessed, a hint of nervousness in his voice.
Leaning in I nudged his shoulder lightly. “Yeah, I kind of do,” I admitted with a smile.
Suddenly Thomas fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a small box. My heart skipped a beat as I realized what was happening.
He went silent, looking both serious and slightly terrified. “Marry me, Josie, for real?” he blurted out as he opened the box to reveal a simple, elegant ring.
It was so expected that I burst out laughing; it was either that or burst into tears. “Thomas, this is possibly the worst proposal ever! Of course I will,” I replied, still laughing.
Relief washed over him and he grinned. “Damn, I thought I’d need to convince you more,” he said.
“Just promise me no more surprises like this without a warning,” I teased. “No promises,” he replied playfully, slipping the ring onto my finger.
We spent the rest of the evening just sitting by the dying fire, talking about what this step meant for us. No grand dreams, just real stuff like whether we should get a new couch or if his Jeep could survive another winter.
