The image is iconic: a man, down on one knee, gazing up at his beloved with a ring held high, offering not just his hand but his future. It’s a tableau as old as time, cemented in our collective psyche as the ultimate gesture of love and commitment. Yet, beneath the romantic veneer lies a deeper question: why must the man kneel? Why is it, in an age where we profess equality in relationships, that this archaic ritual of submission still persists?
Let us dissect this act of kneeling. In many cultures, to kneel is a sign of submission, a demonstration of humility before power. It conjures images of vassals kneeling before kings, knights before lords, and supplicants before gods. In this context, why must a man—the supposed equal partner in modern relationships—perform an act steeped in such symbolism? We praise the gesture as romantic, but could it not also be viewed as reinforcing the very hierarchies we claim to dismantle?
To kneel is to cede power. When a man bends his knee in proposal, he is, metaphorically speaking, handing over his autonomy. He lowers himself in an act of vulnerability, signaling not just a request for acceptance but an implicit acknowledgment of inferiority in that moment. Marriage, however, is touted as a partnership of equals, so why does the journey to this union begin with a gesture of subordination?
The narrative surrounding the traditional proposal positions the man as the chaser, the woman as the prize. His kneeling becomes a supplication, a plea for her approval, as though her “yes” is the be-all and end-all of the union. This ritual suggests that he must prove himself worthy of her acceptance, reinforcing a dynamic where women hold the ultimate power in deciding the future, while the man’s role is to humbly ask for it. If we are serious about relationships being partnerships of mutual respect and equality, this power imbalance in the very first step toward marriage is jarring.

Rituals of the Past in Modern Relationships
Now, some might argue that this is tradition—that there is beauty in following the rituals passed down through generations. But tradition, when unexamined, can become a shackle, binding us to practices that no longer serve their original purpose. The institution of marriage itself has evolved significantly over centuries. What was once a transactional arrangement—often brokered between families rather than individuals—has transformed into a celebration of love and mutual choice. Shouldn’t the rituals surrounding it evolve as well?
Marriage proposals are a performance, not just for the couple involved but for society at large. Social media is flooded with pictures and videos of extravagant, carefully orchestrated proposals, all culminating in the same iconic image: a man on one knee, ring in hand, awaiting judgment. The public spectacle adds another layer of pressure. The man must not only win the approval of his beloved but also the applause of onlookers, both virtual and physical. In this sense, the kneeling proposal becomes less about love and more about validation—an act that is, at its core, performative.
The Illusion of Choice
But what of the woman’s role in this ritual? After all, she is the one being asked. Does this not grant her power in the dynamic? On the surface, perhaps. But look deeper, and you’ll see that the kneeling proposal is as constraining for her as it is for him. By positioning the woman as the decider, we burden her with the weight of expectation. The question is posed in such a way that the answer is already assumed. When a man kneels, it is not really a question—it’s a declaration of intent wrapped in a societal demand for affirmation. The woman, standing above him, is expected to smile, blush, and say yes. To do otherwise is to defy the narrative.
This is not to suggest that proposals cannot be meaningful, beautiful moments. They absolutely can be. But we must ask ourselves: is the act of kneeling truly necessary to convey love, commitment, and partnership? Or is it simply a remnant of a time when relationships were less about equality and more about ownership?
A New Symbol for Modern Love
The proposal, like marriage itself, should be a reflection of the couple’s values, not a performance for societal approval. If both partners are equals, then why not approach this moment as such? Rather than one person kneeling in submission, why not both stand, face-to-face, as equals? Or better yet, why not rethink the entire concept of the proposal itself? Must it be a grand, public spectacle, or could it be a private conversation, a mutual decision made in the quiet moments of life?
Kneeling is a symbol, and symbols matter. They carry weight, meaning, and history. By continuing to insist on this particular symbol in the context of a proposal, we are, consciously or not, reinforcing the idea that one partner must lower themselves to ask for the other’s approval. In a world where we strive for equality, this is an idea whose time has passed.
The act of kneeling in a proposal is not just a quaint tradition—it is a relic of a time when relationships were governed by power dynamics, not partnership. By rethinking this ritual, we can move toward a model of love that truly reflects the values of equality, respect, and mutual decision-making. Let us challenge the idea that one must kneel to ask for love. Instead, let us stand together, side by side, as equals.