Two years ago, I was walking through Fitzroy in the dark and rain, trying to find fingernail clippers.
A few hours before, Kate messaged me saying she was starving and changed our drinks to dinner at Rice Paper Scissors (off to a great lesbian pun) in one of Melbourne’s inner suburbs, walking distance from the CBD—aka downtown/city center—where I was staying. As a self-respecting lesbian (though not all of us sport short nails), I could not show up to a first non-date in such a state. Thanks to a Woolworths Metro, I did not. But I did walk down a Fitzroy alley cutting my nails like a weirdo. Two years later and engaged to that woman, I’d do it again.
To sum up a long story and fill in some blanks: I was in the middle of a three week trip to the other side of the world. I had been in Cambodia traveling my little heart out. (more on that story here) As I did when traveling and single, I was on Hinge. Kate liked me. I messaged her about a tattoo. We did the chitchatting. Tale as old as time.
We had a whirlwind three days. She crashed my tattoo appointment, we went on a roadtrip, held hands in the rain, I smashed a bottle of kombucha, hopped in an uber because I did have to go home by way of Sydney, and subsequently sobbed for the next eight hours. I remember standing in the airport texting one of my friends, “I met someone.” In my journal on the plane, I wrote, “If everything were different, she would be my wife.” I’ve been through breakups before, but I have never felt anything like that. Leaving her after three days, I felt like my heart had been ripped out of my chest and nothing would be the same again.
Kate texted, with a bravery so few of us have, asking if we could try. Lucky for me, I was not the only one feeling those big feelings.
“YES!”
My life immediately changed.
Little did she know, amidst the tears after leaving her, I was googling all the ways I could get the dogs over because they are my everything. Turns out you can—Johnny Depp just didn’t have enough patience. I was also doing mental gymnastics on how to get back to Australia so I could see this woman again and show her I am, in fact, the love of her life. I guess I already had.
In our thirties, time is not something we’re playing around with. I knew I wanted monogamy, marriage, and up to one kid on top of all the boundaries and big talks people have slowly over time. Within a week, I was clearly defining what this was and what I wanted because dating on opposite sides of the world is different. And! I don’t want to get my tiny, little bird heart shattered through lack of communication.
Luckily, I didn’t scare her away. She matched my crazy and still does.
The time difference sucked from the very beginning. We were texting and calling all the time, any and every chance we could. I was staying up later than even I, the perpetual night owl, usually did just to hear her voice after work. About three weeks in, I booked a ticket back to Australia to spend her favorite holiday [Halloween] together. But mostly so we could see if this was what we thought it was and not just a three day, holiday fueled fluke. I stayed for fifteen days. We went on a trip to Tathra, saw whales, spent time in Melbourne, said “I love you” for the first time, and most importantly decided on Australia.
Six weeks later, Kate landed in Houston on Christmas Eve for nineteen days to meet my people, see my world, go to New Orleans, visit Fredericksburg/Austin, get incredibly sick, and just have some fun. In under twenty-four hours of landing, she got down on one knee and asked me to spend the rest of my life with her.
Oh, yes, dear reader. We were engaged in under four months.
Quick! Lesbian. And oh so right. I was going to move across the world with my dogs to be with her, leaving everything and everyone in the US for love. It’s big. We had not talked about getting engaged or a timeline. In my mind, we would someday, but the move was at the forefront of my mind. Also, I know her and did then. She is not the kind of woman to do the proposing first. I was not expecting it. At. All. But she did. I knew her, and knew that for her to propose meant she wanted to marry me without question. I still get so emotional thinking about that morning. It was the best day of my life, so far.
A couple months later, I was back in Australia for a few weeks. We went on a trip, saw race cars, got matching whale tattoos, started planning our life, and started learning how to argue—I mean, communicate passionately. Then, I went back to the US and worked. And worked. And worked. To save for the big, expensive move. There was some visa stuff in there, surgery, communicating, missing each other, our first anniversary, deaths, and so much more. We did it all at a distance. Going eight months without seeing each other. Hard.
In November, I got on a plane and made the thing I worked for a reality. We’ve celebrated our second Christmas and New Years. Gone on our first international trip together to Bali. She broke her arm… Or I broke her arm. It was a scooter in Bali accident, as one does. We had our first birthdays together. She got a new job. I went on a big trip to The Philippines. We moved into a new house. We’ve made friends, cooked dinners, grocery shopped, laid in bed, gone hiking, had day trips, explored Victoria, walked on the beach, played pickleball, traveled with the dogs, bought furniture, and just finally had time to be together.
It’s a wild thing existing in a reality we spent so long dreaming of. The mundane was a dream. And the dream was to just wake up next to her. Now, I’ve been able to, and it’s fucking fantastic.
In the cliché way, I fall in love with her more every day.
Kate and I did so much of the hard stuff first. We learned how to communicate because that’s all we had to go off of. Intercontinental relationships trigger all the issues and forge the biggest, deepest kind of trust. We started our relationship in the trenches. It was so much fun, don’t get me wrong, but we never had a honeymoon period. We never got to date and fall in love in the normal way. We kind of did everything backwards. And moving in together is not all fun times and roses, especially when it’s to a completely new culture and country and so terribly far away from everyone. And in our 30s as independent, particular ladies. It’s a wild experience, and it took some adjusting for both of us in our own ways.
It’s also really fucking marvellous.
I wouldn’t change a thing. We are a strong, solid, happy couple because of the distance and the fact we have chosen each other every day since the day we met.
Today is our two year anniversary. I know so much that I didn’t know when I saw her walking towards me outside of Rice Paper Scissors. I would choose her again and again. The very cool part of all of this is I feel like we’re just starting to hit our stride. We’re in our honeymoon period now. We’re all laughter and giggles and kisses and kitchen dancing. We’re lazy Sunday mornings and “Do you have to go to work?” We’re flirty eyes across the pickleball net and silly banter because our weird has started to fester into its own language. All the mundane moments have not lost their sheen. I don’t take a single one for granted because I know what it’s like to live without her. Fuck! I can’t imagine having to do that again. My favorite things are the little ones. It’s getting to make her tea or pick out flowers on my way home. Just being in the same time zone feels like a goddamn luxury because she’s awake when I call her, and I’m usually calling because I want to know if she wants dinner or a treat or something.
It is such an insane feeling. To be in my thirties, highly jaded, excited to be single, with deep roots in Houston and then going on vacation, meeting someone, and in the span of three days knowing: this is the person I would move across the world to be with. What’s even crazier is that person thinking the same thing. The craziest part is doing all of it. I am so glad I did. What a wild beginning to a great adventure and a love story I will be writing about for the rest of my days.
Happy two year anniversary to my favorite person in the world. I am still so overwhelmed with gratitude for everything that led me to her and has allowed me to make it back to her time and time again. I’m still in awe that I woke up this morning next to her.
Now enjoy some of my favorite photos:
