Often, when I meet someone for the first time, or I’m getting to know a new friend, the moment comes when they notice the ring on my finger and congratulate me. Then, naturally, something along the lines of, “When did you get engaged?” usually follows. “Almost five years ago,” I say now. The answer has changed over the years — but even when it was “two years ago,” it seemed kind of long.

Sometimes people look at me with wide eyes and confused expressions; sometimes (less often) they respond without skipping a beat. But I rarely feel like I don’t have to offer some kind of explanation at all, because, I admit, it’s a little unusual. It seems to imply that one (or both) of us has cold feet, or some other resistance to moving forward, but really, neither is the case.

After my boyfriend Jim and I had been dating for a while, I was sure I wanted to marry him, and I felt excited to make a commitment that would solidify our future together. Another thing I was pretty sure of was that I didn’t need there to be any kind of surprise element to our engagement — this was something we were deciding on and doing together, and I wanted our engagement to reflect that. We started having conversations about it. Around the three-year mark, those conversations became more frequent and serious, and before going home for the holidays, we decided to get engaged. Another significant factor in the timing (though I’m not sure whether we actually talked about it, or whether it was just understood) was that my father was sick with cancer, and we wanted him to know our plans, if the worst should happen.