the date I almost didn't go on 10 years ago

the story of how I met my husband--from both of our perspectives

Welcome to this tiny corner of the internet where an off-duty psychotherapist keeps the conversation going on how to make sense of this life thing we’re all doing. If you ever wondered what your therapist does off the clock—which, who among us hasn’t?—this is like that. Think of it as the adult equivalent of seeing your elementary school teacher at the grocery store picking out lemons. 🍋 I typically oscillate between long-form psychoeducation pieces and narrative essays—sometimes I smush them together. I also do a biweekly podcast with my husband, roundups and a segment of brisk thoughts on music, TV, and film. Today, a little love-fest.

One thing before we jump in, I show up very much as myself here. Myself first, and all my other labels are secondary. If a therapist speaking candidly feels like too much to your system, that is absolutely is OK and this may not be the best particular newsletter for you.

“How did you meet?” 

A question most couples are used to fielding. At dinner parties, meeting new friends, introducing family to a new partner. It’s inevitable. A question hanging in the air. As it was said in the opening of Armageddon, a film I’ve seen possibly 100 times due to an unchecked Bruce Willis obsession I had in my youth, “It happened before….it will happen again…it’s only a question of when.”

In my brief stint seeing couples as a psychotherapist, this was a question I always asked in the first session.

I was taught how the couple answered that question was supposed to signal something. I wasn’t listening for how spectacular/elaborate/fancy the date was. No, what I was looking for was tone and body language. The shift from what brought them to my office to what had come before. Was that twinkle in the eye still there as they reminisced on their meet cute? 

I honestly don’t know if that really holds all the answers, but I do know I love that question. That we believe in romance at all is beautifully hopeful to me. It’s probably the therapist in me that feels so drawn to knowing the beginning. You can’t know where you’re going unless you know where you’ve been and all that. We love an origin story, right? 

When I hear these stories, it often has me time traveling back to my first date with my husband. 

July 24th, 2014 (Chicago, IL)

Less than six months out from a horrible relationship, pretty tender from the emotional slingshotting of said relationship and all the rebound dating that followed, we find our protagonist.

She’s tired. Over it. Also, desperately wanting to feel loved again so she can know it’s possible. Also, maybe it could wipe her memory of the last year.

Can love do that?

She wanted to find out.