This past summer, I was lucky enough to travel to Europe with my dad and brother. We managed to take two weeks off and explore Italy—more on that later—and visited all the must-see spots. Toward the end of our trip, my partner Alan flew out to meet us in Rome. After a bit of confusion about how we’d find each other, he finally met us at the Colosseum. We couldn’t join a tour together, but after not seeing him for two weeks, I ran straight to him and stole as many sneaky kisses as I could.

After the tour, we grabbed lunch and enjoyed some Aperol spritzes and arancini before heading back to our apartment. That’s when Alan mentioned he wanted to visit the Trevi Fountain first thing in the morning for coffee before we left for the Amalfi Coast. That evening, we had dinner at a nearby spot called Pizza in Trevi, which served incredible gluten-free pizza. I practically devoured all the tomatoes I could get my hands on!

While we were eating, we noticed a few people proposing by the fountain. It was such a lively atmosphere, with cheers erupting every so often. Back at the apartment, I jokingly asked Alan if I needed to look nice for the next morning. He casually mentioned that he wanted my dad to take a video of us throwing a coin into the fountain, while my brother would snap a film photo of the moment. He seemed so excited about it that I couldn’t help but get suspicious. He’d been dropping hints about us getting engaged soon, but he had insisted it wouldn’t happen on this trip. Still, a little part of me wondered if it might actually happen.

That night, I lay awake thinking, This could be the last night before I get engaged. When morning came, I tried to play it cool and jokingly suggested, “Should we even go?” Alan was insistent, rushing us out the door. I didn’t dress up too much—I didn’t want to make it obvious that I suspected something—but we did unintentionally match in white shirts and shorts, which felt oddly perfect.

In hindsight, I wish I’d brushed my hair or done something about my puffy face (thank you, pizza). Still, it’s all part of the memory now.

When we got to the Trevi Fountain, it was already busy, even at 8:00 a.m. Alan was visibly nervous—his knees were literally shaking. On the cab ride there, I’d even patted down his pockets, trying to figure out if he had a ring, but I didn’t feel anything. For a moment, I convinced myself it wasn’t happening after all. In hindsight, I should have just let things unfold naturally instead of overthinking every little detail!
I remember Alan wanted to find a spot near the fountain, but as soon as he saw how crowded it was, he got so nervous. He started panicking about where we’d stand to throw the coin. I noticed an opening on the left side of the fountain and pulled him over, trying to calm him down, but he was so jittery that it made me feel nervous too.

That’s when it all started clicking for me. He said, “Okay, throw the coin in your left hand. We’ll do it together, and your dad and brother will take photos.” At that moment, I knew. My heart was racing, but I tossed my coin, half-closing my eyes, and when I looked beside me, Alan was kneeling down beside me.

Even though I had suspected what was happening all day, I couldn’t believe it. Alan had always said he’d never propose in public, and I’d told him I didn’t want him to do it in front of my family. Yet here we were, breaking all our rules. But I understood why he did it. Italy has always been special to us, and since we couldn’t get married there, he wanted to make this moment unforgettable—and to make sure we had pictures of it, of course.

Even though I knew it was happening, my mind kind of blanked out. I couldn’t focus on what he was saying; all I saw was the ring. I nodded, said “I will,” and that was that. Alan was so nervous, and when people around us—at least 30 strangers—started clapping, he wanted to leave immediately. I managed to hold him there for a few more minutes to take some photos and to tell him how happy I was. I didn’t want the moment to end.

Afterward, I called my mom. She already knew, of course, but we decided to keep it just between us for a little while. We wanted to live in the moment and enjoy the news ourselves before telling too many people. Some of my friends had helped Alan plan the proposal, so they were already in the loop. I called a few of them on the train ride to the Amalfi Coast that same day. Everyone was scattered across the world, but even in those short, excited calls, there were tears, laughs, and so much love.

That whole day felt like a blur. By the time we got to the Amalfi Coast, I couldn’t stop staring at my hand. It didn’t feel real yet. That evening, we went to the beach, and I was still in this mix of nervousness and excitement. We took a photo together in the water—it’s one of my favorites. We both look so happy, and for the first time, the whole thing really started sinking in. (Although I definitely should have realized that my phone shouldn’t go in salt water... but that’s another story.)

About a week and a half later, we were in Milos, Greece, at Sarakiniko Beach—a place we both love. By then, Alan had admitted that during the proposal at the Trevi Fountain, he’d been too nervous to say everything he wanted. So, on that last day in Milos, when it was just the two of us and hardly anyone else around, he knelt down again. This time, he said everything he’d meant to say. It was so sweet, and it felt like our own private moment. We got one small cheer from someone in the distance, but mostly, it was just us, watching the sunrise on that beautiful beach. And yes, this time, I wore a nice dress.

When we got back home, we waited a couple of days before telling more people. Honestly, I had been so worried about people’s reactions, but looking back, I wish I hadn’t been. If I could give any advice, it’s this: share your joy without overthinking it. Some people’s congratulations might not feel genuine, but the people who truly matter will show up for you. Alan and I have been overwhelmed by the love and support from the ones who really care, and that’s what has meant the most to us.