Love at First Sight

Is believing in 'the magic of love' in an era of romantic despair 

delusional or optimistic?

Love at First Sight

Thoughts on Meet-Cutes 

I like to ask people how they met their person.

In the back of Ubers and at cafes.

On airplanes and in line at the movies.

I keep a little log of meet-cutes for bad days.

And I like to flick through them from time to time to remind myself- 

Don't forget.

It's beautiful here.

The world is not as bleak as it feels sometimes.

Stick around. There are moments worth living for.

These conversations begin with;

'Did you know it was love right away?'

And these conversations often end with-

'I didn't know what it was, but I knew it was something And I felt like I had to try.'

'And now we have a dog.'

'Now we have some children.'

'Now we have a life.'

In the midst of dating app fatigue, disconnection, rising divorce rates, s* xlessness, loneliness epidemics, A.I and weaponised therapy, it's starting to feel like believing in romantic love is as mad as believing in fairytales.

But our fairytales come from somewhere real. Love stories are out there. They exist.

And I believe if you're brave enough to take a risk, you might come across yours one day.

50 years ago my mum stood out the front of her family's milk bar in a small country town and clocked the love of her life some 20 yards away. She saw him across a dusty dirt road and boldly declared to my nan,

'See that man over there? That's the man I'm going to marry.'

50 years later, she still is married to that man. 

I grew up believing that sometimes love is as spectacular as all the great musicians and poets and movies and books professed it to be, because I saw it.

My mother and father

- imperfect and beautiful -

were an example of love being hard, but real.

Proof that if you're brave enough to take a risk, you might one day get something a big magical.

They tell each other stories.

And paint and garden.

And challenge each other to be better versions of themselves.

It's always been quietly comforting to know that it exists.

If you know where to look for it, you'll find hope just about everywhere.

I've asked my mother over the years, again and again-

'How did you know?'

What did dad do?

Was he laughing? Holding himself a certain way?'

She never really answers.

'I didn't know what it was, but I knew it was something.

And I felt like I had to try.'

And now they have a home.

Now they have 3 children.

Now they have a life.