Ben and I first crossed paths in high school (2017) thanks to mutual friends. One of his best friend’s girlfriends suggested he reach out to me, so Ben took to Instagram. His opener was simple and sweet: “Hey, I think you’re really pretty and you seem cool. We should text.” A few hours later, I gave him my number—and that’s where it all began.

Not long after, we went on a date to Village Inn. When I told my mom, she was skeptical, but my dad jumped in with the now-famous line: “For God’s sake, Teresa, let the girl eat an omelet.” He wasn’t wrong—Ben and I instantly clicked, and it didn’t take long before we were best friends.

Through high school, we were each other’s best friend. I was always at soccer, he was always at football, but somehow we made it work. Then came college. Ben went to Lincoln, I went to South Dakota State, and suddenly we were in a long-distance relationship fueled by FaceTime calls, random road trips, and weekends that felt way too short. It wasn’t always easy, but the excitement of seeing each other again made it worth it.

After graduating, we finally landed in the same city again, back home in Omaha. We bought a little house on an acreage, adopted our sweet child (dog) Lenny, and started building a life together.

Fast forward nine years of dating, and the question I got daily was: “So… when are you two getting engaged?” My answer was always: “I don’t know, ask Ben.”

The proposal itself was very on-brand for us. I had just driven ten hours home from a wedding in Arkansas to meet Ben and my family at Okoboji. Everyone was acting suspiciously weird—my mom was pacing around claiming to be on a “work call” (she has never once taken a work call at home), and my sister kept insisting I change clothes. Ben eventually suggested we go for a walk to see some bounce houses across the lake (he knows how to get me). We stopped at a hill overlooking the water, and Ben got flustered. He told me to “go down there” toward some random rocks ???? (which I later found out was for photo angle purposes) and when I refused, he panicked for a minute, then dropped to one knee right where we stood. I said yes through tears, and when we got back to the cabin, both of our families were waiting to celebrate. Best weekend ever.

Now, here we are. Nine years in, Ben is still my best friend. We share the same sense of humor, thrive on last-minute plans, and are happiest with a Dairy Queen run and a pup cup for Lenny. We can’t wait to spend forever together—and maybe eat a few more omelets along the way.