My boyfriend Jeff and I moved to Nantucket in 2010 for a job. Not long after we arrived, we discovered a little nook atop a dune-side path between 40th Pole and Eel Point. It overlooks a vast expanse of swaying sea grasses, and is a fantastic place to watch the sun set over the water. We’ve always called it Our Spot. On July 27, 2014, we were enjoying a leisurely Sunday when Jeff said he’d like to go to our spot. We went, and did our usual thing: just stood there holding hands and enjoying the view. Suddenly, he got down on one knee and pulled out a little box. He said, “If we can make it through four winters on Nantucket, we can make it through anything. Sarah Joy Teach, will you marry me?” I said “Yes! Of course I’ll marry you!” The ring fit perfectly. He had gotten his hands on my great-grandmother’s diamond and had it fashioned into a beautiful gold ring. I love that my great-grandfather, Carmelo Iaria, an Italian immigrant, wanted to please his bride so much that he probably spent far too much money on the little stone. My own Nana says that Great Grandma Iaria really thought she was somethin’ else when she got it back in the 1920s. After I said yes to Jeff, we just hugged for a long time. Then we looked at each other and said aloud, “We’re engaged!” As delighted as we were to finally possess the title fiancé, we both acknowledged that things didn’t feel any different. And I think that’s how it should be. Getting married isn’t about the glitz and glamor of of an over-the-top party, but about the love you are sharing.