We met on Bumble. I had a joke in my profile: “How many tickles does it take to make an octopus laugh?” he replied with the correct answer (guess what it is). He passed the test — we could go out. He suggested brunch at Beehive, a jazz spot in the South End, that Sunday… which turned out to be a great idea, because we basically never stopped going out after that.

We dated for 2 years and then — BOOM, the pandemic hit. In 2020, Kyle was living in a shoebox studio in Beacon Hill, and I was in Mission Hill with roommates (we liked hills, apparently). Most of the time, I ended up staying at Kyle’s place. When we got bored, we’d walk across the street to Rory and Andy’s and play Monopoly Deal — usually with Tim and Jack too. They’d force me to play and place bets, knowing I’d lose (because I was also making frozen margaritas and becoming a sore loser… regularly). That year, we decided to move in together — we landed in Charlestown, where a bunch of our friends were living. A couple of years later, in 2022, we got Toast — and our hearts grew a little (and so did the chaos, but the good kind ;).

He proposed on New Year’s Eve 2025, in Olón, Ecuador. We go to Olón pretty much every year — partly to escape Boston’s freezing weather, and also because in Ecuador, NYE is basically the start of summer. Friends and family usually spend the whole week (or more) at the beach, which is always fun because we get to hang out at my friends’ houses, do beach days, drink, eat, and just enjoy. But yes, the proposal... Kyle didn’t tell anybody. I kinda knew it might happen — we had just turned 7 years together and 7 is a lucky number, so I thought, well... Anyway — he ended up telling my dad an hour before dinner… at an expat bar, where Kyle had made friends with the owner and would go watch football sometimes (very on brand). That night, we were having NYE dinner at Brisa Olón — a restaurant owned by my cousin (shoutout to Juanjo, an incredible chef in Ecuador). It was just us and my parents. At the table, my dad was already crying — which didn’t raise any red flags because, well, he’s a nostalgia crier (like me). A song, a movie, a random thought — we cry. So I really had no idea it was going to happen there, especially since I never thought Kyle would propose in public (I get social fright). But...he didn’t think of that. So, after dessert — he just goes: PUM. Gets on one knee. I was like, what is happening!! There was clapping, my brain froze, and I said “yes” like a kid being handed candy after crying. After that, we walked to the beach, where everyone was lighting monigotes — paper dolls filled with fireworks that you burn at midnight to say goodbye to the old year. We tossed ours in the pile, watched the fireworks, and started the new year as fiancés.