A MARRIAGE proposal involving 1,200 drones is quite an occasion. With a reported price tag of about RM500,000, it was almost guaranteed to become a talking point.
That was the surprise when singer and celebrity chef, Datuk Fazley Yaakob, proposed to entrepreneur, Datuk Seri Vida, on November 10.
There was a concert stage, a specially designed ring and a spectacular display lighting up the Kuala Lumpur sky. It was a grand romantic gesture, one that certainly gave social media plenty to talk about.
Vida accepted, with children from both families involved in the special occasion.
It certainly gives the rest of us something to tease our husbands about.
Beyond the spectacle, however, is something rather ordinary and deeply human: the desire to love and be loved, even after life has taken a few unexpected turns.
There is something tender about allowing yourself to hope again. People carry responsibilities, disappointments, memories and lessons from previous relationships into new ones.
Beginning again means making room for someone within a life that already has its own history.
That takes courage, especially when the world seems more interested in judging than understanding.
The same thought comes to mind when looking at singer and actress, Bella Astillah’s new chapter with Syed Saddiq Syed Abdul Rahman.
They married on October 10, with Bella entering this next stage of her life as a mother of two children from her previous marriage.
Their circumstances differ from Vida and Fazley’s, but both stories offer a hopeful reminder that the future can still hold something good after an earlier relationship ends.
Yet we can be surprisingly ungenerous towards people whose happiness arrives outside the timeline we consider appropriate.
We are accustomed to a predictable sequence: meet someone, get married, have children and grow old together.
It is a lovely hope, but others find themselves starting again whether it is because a marriage ends or a partner passes away.
Sometimes, the relationship a person hoped for simply does not arrive when everyone expects it to. None of this removes the desire for companionship.
Still, an older woman expressing that desire can become the subject of jokes. Her age and appearance invite commentary. Previous marriages become grounds for questioning her judgement or her right to try again.
For a divorced mother, the scrutiny can take another form. People begin weighing whether she is suitable for someone, as though her children and past experiences diminish what she brings to a relationship.
I find that unnecessarily harsh. An earlier relationship ending does not tell us everything about those involved. It certainly does not give strangers enough information to decide what their future should look like.
Women are encouraged to be strong and independent. We applaud their ability to earn, provide, raise children and manage a household. We should also allow them to admit that they would enjoy having someone beside them.
A woman may be perfectly capable of managing her life while still wanting someone to share dinner with, call after a difficult day or make plans with for the years ahead. She should not have to apologise for that.
For mothers, however, a new relationship brings considerations beyond the couple. Children have their own feelings, attachments and concerns. Their comfort deserves time and attention, particularly when families come together after earlier relationships.
At their engagement, Syed Saddiq spoke about loving Bella’s children and expressed hope that they would welcome him into their lives.
That acknowledgement matters because choosing a future with a parent means understanding the place their children already occupy.
As a mother, I think that deserves as much thought as the wedding itself.
Love enters an existing household, becoming part of routines and relationships that matter deeply. Making space for everyone requires patience, reassurance and a willingness to listen.
Then comes the other conversation that follows an extravagant proposal: what it does to everyone else’s expectations.
A beautiful celebration can be enjoyed without becoming a benchmark for our own relationships. There is nothing wrong with enjoying romance or wanting a partner to make an effort.
Comparison becomes unfair when someone else’s celebration determines how we judge the care we receive at home.
Most couples have ordinary budgets, bills to pay and children to provide for. Their expressions of love may involve considerably fewer people looking up at the sky.
Bella recently spoke about gestures she appreciates, including unexpected affectionate messages, and Syed Saddiq consistently opening doors for her. These everyday acts were meaningful to her.
That is something many of us can understand. As a wife and mother, I find romance in having a dependable partner. Someone who notices when you are tired, takes responsibility without waiting for instructions, listens properly, and remains kind when the day has been difficult.
Those things deserve to be valued throughout a marriage. Public celebrations and interviews offer only glimpses of a relationship.
We see the photographs, the smiles, the rings and the carefully chosen words. We rarely see the private conversations, adjustments, disagreements and responsibilities that follow.
The couple must live everything that comes after the celebration, including the compromises and everyday decisions involved in choosing a future together.
We can wish them well without pretending to know more than we do. Their relationships are theirs to build, and their happiness does not need to be defended against every opinion expressed online.
Perhaps we could extend that same generosity to people closer to us: the divorced friend considering another relationship, the widowed parent seeking companionship or the woman who has spent years putting everyone else first and is finally ready to think about herself.
Instead of asking why someone is getting married again, perhaps we could simply wish them happiness.
Instead of making jokes about age, appearance or previous relationships, we could recognise that everyone deserves the opportunity to experience love and companionship.
There is no single correct age for falling in love, no fixed timetable for rebuilding a life and no rule that says happiness must come only once.
Life gives people enough reasons to be cautious. Some have experienced heartbreak, betrayal or loss. Others have had to rebuild their lives while continuing to care for the people who depend on them.
When someone finds the courage to open their heart again, a little kindness from the rest of us would be a good place to start.
The 1,200 drones may have lit up the Kuala Lumpur sky, but perhaps the most beautiful part of these stories is the reminder that hope can return at any stage of life.
After all, happiness has no expiry date. And neither does the right to love, be loved and begin again.
The views expressed here are those of the writer and do not necessarily represent the views of Sarawak Tribune. The writer can be reached at sarahhafizahchandra@gmail.com.
