Happy Anniversary

One Year. 

There weren’t fireworks the night we met exactly one year ago today. Don’t get me wrong, I thought he was cute. He had such warm eyes. He oozed confidence and we had plenty to talk about. The conversation was super interesting and by the end of dinner we were eating off of each other’s plates. But I was slightly guarded. And a wee nervous. And honestly, I was still harboring distrust of men. 

But one date led to two, and before I knew it there were five, and our intense connection was becoming undeniable.  We both knew the pain of previous heartbreak and disappointment and shared an understanding of both the messiness of relationships but also the possibilities that deep, profound, love could present. We kept coming back to a conversation about the purity of real, raw, naked love. We didn’t know what our future would look like, obviously, but if we could remain OPEN, something unique and secure could bloom. 

The first morning he stood over the stove making pancakes for his kids was the moment I knew there was no turning back. His palpable enthusiasm for his children, the beautiful chaos he was orchestrating, the tenderness that went into his offerings to get each dish ‘just right’ for his little people almost paralyzed me.  I was in awe of this human – and have been ever since.

In the many months that have followed we have collected hundreds of memories.  I have never felt safer. I have never felt more at peace. I have never felt more grounded in a healthy, balanced, selfless kind of romantic relationship.

Because of him, I believe again. It is not lost on me what a treasure it is to return to love like this, while simultaneously loving myself in a way I haven’t in a very long time. He has restored a belief of what is possible. My cynicism has been erased slowly with each promise made and kept, with each clear and respectful communication, with each reminder that true love grows in both the space to be together and be apart. 

In short - if your heart is hardened from life’s disappointments, or you struggle to believe in a real, committed, extraordinary connection I urge you to be patient. Try not to close yourself off. Try to soften. Keep the faith. Swim around in *that energy. It’s a risk to put yourself out there again, yes, but the absolute greatest failure would be to risk a life without 

laughter or 

best-friendness or 

the tastiest bites or 

spooning or 

coffee chats or 

dreaming or 

karaoke car-singing or 

observing nature or 

learning about Crypto (he never shuts up, love you babe) or

sharing fears about parenting or 

the endless exchanges of the sweetest kisses.

Take your chances. So glad I did. 

Happy Anni, Lover. Thank you for teaching me about this groovy kind of love.