A tale of two engagements

He had a formidable task.

He had to propose to me…again.

The first time had been perfect – romance, roses, and champagne hidden behind our special boulder on the beach, where we watch the sunset every night.

That engagement, three years ago, led us to breaking up, blowing up, humbling ourselves, and then, ultimately, inevitably, reconnecting.

Since then, everything has been stripped away, except our love.


What has happened for me and Peter, over these last two years, is that each of us has had to drop the gripping ego construct that was keeping us separate.

I learned to shed my armor and open my heart.
He learned to step into his sovereignty.

From that place, the adventure has been to learn how to continually and ongoingly find each other in Rumi’s field.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass, the world is too full to talk about. Ideas, language, even the phrase each other doesn’t make any sense.”

During our years apart, we both fell in deep with other people.

I fell in love with a man who was everything I thought I wanted. But instead of disappearing, Peter stayed in touch. We would get together every few weeks to spend a night in the city, or go visit our beach house on Long Island, the place we built together. Small moments of reconnection that magically kept us tethered.

As things ended with me and this other guy, Peter fell in love with a woman who he thought was going to be his life partner. They moved in together. But still, we remained close.

An invisible yet powerful thread was keeping us together – a thread that was bigger than what we knew, more powerful than who we thought we were.


Somehow, outside of the pressure of our partnership, the eternal irrevocable love that is us emerged and swept us forward.

I learned to love this man in an utterly new way – no ego, pure devotion to who he is, and who he was becoming.

He learned to stand for himself and his desires, despite the consequences.

And finally, over the last year, we have found our way home to this love – both of us surrendering to the majesty and beauty of who and what we are for each other.

But, I had given him back the engagement ring.

What I did not know was that Peter had slipped the ring in his pocket a couple of months ago, knowing and trusting that the right moment would eventually come.

This man is patient.
This man trusts his own intuition and timing.
This man was in no rush.

(I know, I know. It could have fallen out, it could have ended up in the washing machine…but, it’s Peter, so nothing went wrong.)

A couple Fridays ago, we were having our usual family Shabbat dinner, and everyone was going around the table saying their brags and gratitudes and desires.
Peter was last. He spoke his gratitude for our relationship and for how deeply he loves me. And upon hearing this, my overprotective brother turned to him and said, “Prove it!”

(You gotta understand that these past two years have been hard on Bro. He always wanted Peter and I to be together, but he had NO IDEA what he was about to set in motion…)

With that, Peter got down on one knee, pulled my engagement ring out of his pocket, and asked me to marry him.


I burst into tears. It was such a beautiful moment. I felt all the feels of being so in love, of trusting him with my whole heart, and loving him with my whole body and soul.

I was so overwhelmed with gratitude for this love. For our journey together. For the privilege of having a love story at all. (Not everyone gets that.)

So grateful for the tender patience and trust that Peter has in himself, and his life, that had him pause and feel into this particular moment – allowing the universe to show him how and when to propose to me.

Witnessed by my family, in front of my Mama, instigated by my brother. And yes. I said yes. I will marry you, yes.

With so much love and pleasure,

Mama Gena's


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