For someone who hasn’t voluntarily worn jewelry since the fifth grade, wearing a ring every day for the rest of my life is kind of a big deal.

I used to joke that since I was such a cheap date (read: balloons and a pretty dress are all I want for Christmas. Or my birthday. Or a Tuesday.) that when the time finally came, I would oblige my suitor for nothing less than a diamond the size of a ring pop—plus reimbursement for the resulting eye damage. But once I met the man who I knew would someday buy it for me, my feelings started to change. I still wished for enough sparkle to make fireworks jealous, but no longer needed the biggest and best of them all.

The few times I shopped on my own, I was drawn more to character than to carats. That’s not to say I didn’t accidentally bookmark a 3-point-something rock once…or twice. But, what I really wanted was a ring that would represent the things I love so much about my now-fiance. It had to be fun, cute and a little refined.

Weeks passed when I didn’t think about or look at rings, and by the time I logged back in to my secret board on Pinterest, I couldn’t tell if I’d been the one picking the links, or if I’d been hacked. None of them seemed to have the same allure as the first time around, and I panicked. Did this mean the same would happen with the one Fredo picks? What if my schizo feedback on styles confuses him (how could it not?) and he buys something I don’t like? Do I just pretend? Would he be able to tell?

All my questions were answered the instant he got down on one knee and opened that pretty little black box. I didn’t even see the ring, its shape or the diamonds. I saw my BEF (Best Everything Forever) in the middle of a silly, adorable gesture to show me how much he loves me and knows me even better than I know myself.

As he slid the band on my finger, all the doubts and anxieties I had fell away. Before that, I worried people would look at my hand and think the rock was too much this or not enough that. But now, I know. Goldilocks can hate all she wants, but she’ll never change the fact that this ring, while made of who-knows-what-weight and who-cares-what-clarity of diamonds (I didn’t ask. It doesn’t matter.) is mine—and his. Just like the future it represents.

Full disclosure: It helps a lot that the ring is actually really beautiful, and exactly what I wanted, even if I didn’t know it yet.