Alright friends, some of y’all already know about this one: it started with a meme. He had asked his friends about me, then sent me a DM on Instagram a couple months later. He sent a a video, so of course I had to check it out. And then there it was; the stewie meme I still clown him for to this day. I replied, fully intending to leave it at that. But he responded. And then responded again, this time asking me to grab lunch. So I ignored him for nine days. Fast forward to the Christmas party. I thought it had to be a coincidence to see him there. Turns out, he had orchestrated a whole plan to make sure I’d be there—and boy did it work. That night, he said hi. I shook his hand and said hi back. All that work to get me there just to be scared and walk away. Nice. Still, he kept looking at me. Kept trying to get my attention. He offered me a plate. I said no. (Only for him to later see me accept a plate from someone else—my bad. I didn’t realize how bad that looked.) I genuinely had zero interest in this man. I left the place around 11 pm. Later, he sat next to my friend, Isenaelys and asked her about me. She spilled everything to me the next day over lunch at Chili’s. I laughed. The thought of me and him was not something I would’ve considered in that moment. But there was something about the way he kept trying—something about the way he spoke about me. So I gave it a shot. I replied to his DM. He responded immediately. We went on our first date December 16, 2023—and well you know rest. We said “I love you” three months in. Started attending our own church together five months in. And in June 2024, he officially asked me to be his girlfriend. (Yes, we waited. My mom had one rule: be strictly friends for six months. We wanted our parents’ blessing. But between you and me… we were official long before that.) That’s why we have two anniversaries—December and June. June is special—it’s the name we want to give our future daughter. December is our month. Our beginning. Our season of love. Then in September 2025, he asked me to marry him. Without hesitation, I said yes. And now here we are—adding March to our favorite months. Because yes, we’re that couple. The kind who finds meaning in everything. And somehow, it just works.

If there’s one thing I want you to take away from our story, it’s this: If they wanted to, they would. Don’t lose hope. The person meant for you will show you—with action, not just words. Words without intention and follow-through are empty. No, our story isn’t a perfect fairytale. It’s real. It’s raw. And it’s ours. We’ve fought for our love. We’ve learned patience (and trust me, we’ve needed it). We weren’t made for each other—we chose each other. Two imperfect people committed to building something healthy, steady, and lasting. Yes, things moved quickly between us. But nothing about our love has been careless. Every step was intentional. We chose each other—flaws, strengths, best days, and hardest ones. Because this is the kind of love I couldn’t have even dreamt up. It’s real. It’s grounding. It’s beautiful. I could write a novel about the way he makes loving him so easy and how even the challenges have only added to the worth of it all. He made it easy for me to choose a love that mirrors God’s love—one that chooses me without confusion. A love that replaces anxiety with hope. A love that calls me higher and reminds me I am enough. A love that feels like home. And yes, I can live without him. I just don’t want to. I’d take ten bad years if it meant forever with him. So here’s to us. Here’s to a love worth celebrating. Here’s to counting down the days until we say “I do” on 03.12.26. “Every time I think of you, I give thanks to my God.” – Philippians 1:3