Despite it All, We Found Love
Though the logical, scientific side of me tried to fight it, I'm a hopeless romantic. The rebellious part of me hated that I was a woman who valued romantic love so much. But mostly, I accepted that I could contain all these facets - logical, scientific, rebellious hopeless romantic who wrote poetry about “my someone”. I took to hiding pieces of myself to be more socially acceptable and only my close friends knew that I was a sap.
It might appear cliché - and I'm fully aware of that - but times when I was struggling and at my worst, thinking about “my someone” made me feel better. It made the pain feel like a temporary, fleeting feeling that would leave at some point. In severe trauma - even if the pain only ended in death - perhaps love persists. I'd lost many people close to me and still feel their love; so I assume it's the same on the opposite end.
Every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Maybe every feeling has an equal and opposite feeling. Perhaps my religion is simply, love. It's what I put my faith in: love and science.
I have always been full of love and empathy. Unfortunately that has been manipulated and my vulnerabilities exploited. I have been through domestic abuse and violence from exes that would fill its own book or library. Nevertheless, I persisted. It felt like blind faith at times - but maybe it wasn't?
I'd mostly given up hope a few years after I broke off an engagement. I took time to heal myself and stayed single. I still wanted love but my circumstances and all the trauma made me believe that I wasn't lovable in that way. I was a fantastic friend but surely not a partner? My emotional baggage was heavy in the way that people don't want to carry.
Romantic love is something that is difficult to find under the best circumstances. It's compounded when circumstances are far from ideal.
The few years before I met Lori were marked by mental health concerns. I did the usual tour: dating apps, organized dates, tried flirting at clubs. Nothing ever stuck. It wasn't long before I thought it was about time to give up.
I remember confiding in my sister about the pitfalls of dating apps and she - with wisdom she probably wouldn't claim to have but which I acknowledge to this day - recommended that I try one for people more like me - folks with disabilities. I didn't think such a thing existed but happened upon Dateability. After a few months in, I matched with Lori.
I heard about a dating app for the disabled and chronically ill, Dateability, through The Squeaky Wheel and decided to network. I went there with the intention of just making friends and networking, but remained open to dating. I didn't expect to find anyone, but figured I'd try flirting a little bit.
I flirted with several people and then eventually had a fling that lasted a grand total of six days. He'd accused me of being a catfish, exaggerating things in general, and said that I had only old pictures because I'd gotten fat recently. All of this was unfounded and his evidence was that I had similar glasses, hair, and clothes in my new photos - as if a personal style didn't exist? It was a sting for a few days, but at least I'd gotten “out there” again.
The last person I matched with was a nerdy Neurodivergent Black man in Virginia. I felt excited in ways that frightened me. He seemed to tick all my boxes - down to being a cellist. I've got a thing for nerdy cellists. I wasn't going to get my hopes up, but damn, maybe a little wouldn't hurt.
Every time I spoke to him, I fell a little bit more. Every time I learned about him, I fell a little bit more. We were both apprehensive about the distance, but it started to dwarf the feelings I had. He was still nervous but we were flirty friends, as agreed.
We hit it off instantly and, while I was reluctant to get into a romantic relationship, it was difficult to ignore my feelings. In our many conversations I found someone who cared for people deeply, and who included me in that as well. I wasn't used to someone asking me a question about my interests or worries or goals, and then following it up with true interest and curiosity.
These initial text conversations grew into daily discussions until Lori was one of my closest friends, and I could feel the bond growing between us. Each time we spoke and I heard more of her story, I could feel the connection deepening. It's hard not to feel drawn to someone who has such impressive accomplishments, yet who remains so kind and self-aware.
I remember being so nervous before our first video call, wondering what I should say. How can I be engaging and funny? How do I keep the conversation rolling? My worries turned out to be unfounded and we spent quite a lot of time talking about anything and everything.
"You're really easy to talk to," she said afterwards. I was struck by this statement. I've always been an introvert, a bit awkward and though I enjoyed talking to people I have never felt like I mastered it. I never expected to be met with such acceptance.
We got along great, similar interests (including one another's faces), and were both looking for love. But, there was one thing that held me back. My reluctance was borne of the fact that we lived so far from each other: almost 1000 miles!
That lasted a couple of weeks before I got extremely stoned and told him I adored him and emotional closeness is more permanent than physical distance. If we were good, we'd make the distance temporary. I was embarrassed, but he asked me to be his girlfriend the next day.
We were both cautious, but we fell hard. It was apparent early on that we had a deep connection. I feel like I should have known him forever - perhaps my soul has always loved him. Like the person I dreamed about, he's my best friend and much more. We communicate openly and honestly and analyze misunderstandings to learn how to communicate better. We make mistakes, but take accountability and create a better path forward. We talk about anything and everything - often forgetting about an activity because we got started talking. He's a source of strength - yet makes me weak. Somehow, the weakness and vulnerability isn't scary with him. Every leap of faith and trust ends in flight.
It was a simple statement, but one that got to the core of what was holding me back, and made me consider what I might lose if I were to hesitate on such a decision. Distance be damned, here was someone that cared about me as a person, wanted to know about my day, everyday, and sought to understand who I was as much as she could. Not to mention my own feelings for such a lovely, kind, and intelligent person who I met seemingly of pure happenstance. At that moment it felt like we were meant to come together and, not wasting any time, I asked Lori out shortly after coming to that realization.
According to current legislation, I would lose all my disability benefits if we got legally married. I hold out hope that will change or we will be in a position where we can do that. Regardless of paperwork, politics, or anything the world can throw at us, I know that I love him and he loves me. When things get dark, I'll look for his Light.
