The word “engaged” means a lot of things. For one, it means “busy.” “Occupied.” “Already in use.” By the time you agree to marry someone, that sure will be the case. You’ll already have seen your fair share of love. With each other. With the others. But now, you agree to hold out for someone special, and, in the meantime, no one else shall take that special place.
To engage also means to attract. To hire. To enter into combat with an enemy, even. Marriage will also be all of those. Sometimes, you’ll feel attracted to one another. At other times, you’ll be fighting. In any case, you’ve hired each other. “I want you to be my partner for life. No one else can do that job.” It’s a decision that needs settling into, but not one to take lightly.
There are, however, more interesting definitions still. Architecturally speaking, an engaged column is one attached to a wall. Ideally, that’s what your partner will be, won’t they? A forever-supporter to have your back so that, even if you crumble, you won’t fall completely.
In any well-oiled machine, meanwhile, all parts must be engaged. If the gears don’t interlock, the bearings don’t move, the screws don’t hold, the engine won’t go. The clutch must connect to the driveshaft. If it doesn’t, your horsepower will never make it onto the road. That, too, is engagement. To become two parts of one whole, a team that is better and can, ultimately, only function together.
In some ways, etymologically, we’ve come full circle. The original stem of the word “engagement” meant “to pawn,” “to pledge” something or, well, someone—usually oneself. Now, we live in a world where engagement is most commonly associated with large companies trying to hold our attention just long enough until they can sell it to the highest bidder. It’s a different kind of pawning, but pawned we are at the end—and we pay dearly to cover the interest.
In that sense, perhaps my favorite interpretation of the word is “involved.” To consistently give your partner the gift of your presence is, after all, a much more lasting commitment—and sometimes sacrifice—than however much money one might cough up for a ring. “Yes.” That’s the answer we’re all hoping for. But not just, “Yes, I want to do the ceremony, have the party, wear the suit.” It’s “Yes, I want to be involved. Supporter or connector, entertainer or sparring partner, I’ll be here every day.” That’s worth a lot more than all the jewelry, process, and outward appearances. In fact, it might be the only thing that lasts—and to me, that’s what it means to be engaged.