A Bitter Message About Your Holiday Engagement


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Nice Move

Holiday Engagement

Scroll, scroll.
Ugh she looks really cute.
Scroll, scroll.
Hate the girl, love the Pinterest inspired tree and matching wreath.
Scroll, scroll.
Another couple kissing in front of a fireplace. Cliché much?
Scroll, scr —
Wait. Was that just another couple kissing in front of a fireplace? Let me check.

Oh my god.
Shut the fuck up. She’s ENGAGED?
They just started dating LAST YEAR.
This is their first Christmas together.

*Grabs bottle of wine.*
I fucking give up.

Don’t you just love this engagement time of the year? Yeah. Me neither.

I am going to start off by saying, this is not PC. This is not scientifically supported and this does not make me look like a somewhat decent person. It is not inspirational, it is not nice, and it is not fair. But despite all of that, I just have to say:

I hate you and your holiday engagement.

I know I know. I’m a bitch. And a troll. And a horrible person. I know. Now that that’s out of the way, I just have to say, again: I really, really hate you and your holiday engagement.

But before I get into the nitty gritty reasons, let me just say, it is totally not your fault. You didn’t ask for this (or maybe you did. I don’t know your life. And if you did ask for it and he delivered, well fucking done). You’re just a girl, who fell in love, who just received the most amazing gift ever. Bragging rights for the entire season, endless Instagram potential, and a guy who will love you until the very end.

And you wonder why we’re all bitter, jealous bitches?

Our Tory Burch bags and Michael Kors watches can’t compare to cold, hard, shiny commitment. Nothing says, “I win” quite like the classic “I said yes!” social media post and raking in the texts, phone calls, well wishes, and likes. And the rest of us? We’re over here giving you the double tap while silently wondering how you did it.

• Are you settling?
• Is he?
• Do you swallow? You have to swallow, right?
• Pregnant. You’re pregnant.
• Are you secretly really funny?
• Or cook him dinner every night?
• What. The eff. Is it?

As we sit there, staring at your ugly (read: drool-worthy) ring and your dumb-looking (read: hot AF) “future hubby” we question everything about ourselves. About our relationships. Are we not good enough? Not hot enough? Do our boyfriends not love us enough? Will we ever find a guy who will love us enough? What if we die alone? What if we never get a ring?

Depressing shit, right?

So take all of those annoying, painful, completely insane questions we ask ourselves when someone gets engaged, and pile them on top of the annoying, painful, completely insane questions we ask ourselves at the holidays. Will he get me something that will show how much he cares? Is he serious about me? Will my life fall into place? Will I get everything I want? Will I be with the people I want? Will this year be magical and wonderful and fulfill all of my expectations?

So, put the two things together and there’s a reason we all get very, very drunk and cry a lot at Christmas.

To narrow it down for you, I guess you could say we’re jealous. Sure. It’s maybe, just a teeny bit tacky to get engaged at Christmas. To some people (the haters), it seems like a cop-out. “He got you a ring instead of an actual gift” they laugh as they shove yet another Reese tree into their mouths and pet their cats. But I don’t think that’s the case. The best gift of all is finding someone to love you. To respect you. To think you’re so fucking great that they want to spend the rest of their lives with you.

Honestly? There’s no greater gift than that. So why do we all lowkey hate you the second you post a ring pic in front of the tree?

Because you got the perfect gift. The dream come true. The thing we all want. And the worst part is, we can’t go out and buy it with our Christmas money. We can’t run to the store and pick one up. We can’t be strong, independent women who buy this with our fat checks and our dedicated work ethic. What we’re jealous of isn’t the ring (okay, it’s a little bit the ring). We’re jealous of the idea.

A guy chose the most magical time of the year to ask you one of the most important questions of your life. They guy who you’ve argued with, fought with, and cried with. The guy who drives you insane and always teases you when you get upset over sappy commercials. The guy who knows how you take your coffee, and what your favorite song to sing in the shower is. That guy, who ignores you for football, tickles you until you almost pee, and holds you just a little too long when he hugs you in public. That guy got down on his knee, in front of a lit up tree, and asked you to stand by his side forever.

That’s why we hate holiday engagements.

Sure, we’ll still throw you a double tap, and we’ll squeal about how pretty your ring is, but inside? We’re mentally stealing your fiancé, ripping our your extensions, and wishing a hasty divorce for your future. It’s not pretty and it’s not nice, but in the rage-filled moment that we see another friend who’s been dating a guy for about three second get engaged under mistletoe, we think it. We think it all.

So whether you’re one of the girls who moves into the new year with a naked finger, or you’re sporting a new Instagram prop on your ring finger, just remember the real reason for the season — eating all of the food in moms fridge and canceling plans with old high school friends. To all the ladies who finally got their guys to drop to their knees: we hate you ’cause we ain’t you. And to all the girls who are once again canceling the order on a “Feyoncé” shirt? At least we have our cats and our vibrators.

Happy engagement to all, and to all a “go fuck yourselves.”

Image via Shutterstock

(yeahokaywhat) Aspiring to be the next Tina Fey, Rachel spends her free time doing nothing to reach that goal. While judging people based on how they use "they're" vs. "there" on social media, she likes eating buffalo chicken dip, watching other people's Netflix, and wearing sweatpants way more than is socially acceptable. Hate mail and puppy videos can be sent to: rachel@grandex.co

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