How I met my British Husband
So how is it exactly that I met my British husband? You asked, and now I'm answering. I get asked this question on a pretty regular basis. I guess mostly because people are curious how a midwest girl ended up living in the north west of the UK.
Believe it or not...a LOT of conditions had to be JUST right for that chance meeting. I'm not kidding, there are so many details that if they'd be changed ever so slightly, I'd have never met him.
It all started in 2011 when I was a graphic design intern at Coach in NYC. One night a friend was visiting me for the weekend and we wanted to go out. I didn't know much about New York at that time and definitely didn't know where to go out so we just started walking. We ended up in the West Village near NYU's campus. The first place we wanted to go into was charging a $20 cover and when we scoffed at the ridiculousness, we decided to keep going down the line. The very next place was a bar called Off the Wagon. Long story short, we had a lot of fun and it was a great night. This is NOT the night I met my husband.
A year later, upon graduating college, I was offered a freelance position at Coach which I immediately took. I packed my bags and left my midwest home the same week I graduated. This was the second time I was moving to NYC with only a couple of suitcases and pretty much zero local friends so when my same friend said that she wanted to come for another visit, what did we do? We went out! We went to the same bar we'd had so much fun at last time, of course. (THIS is the night I met my husband). We walked into Off the Wagon, me and my 2 friends. I immediately took notice of 3 guys standing near the stairs at the back of the bar. No joke, I called dibs on the tall dark and handsome one, matching the other 2 up with my friends. Being a 21st century girl, I walked up to him and started conversation...conversation that quickly turned into me wing-manning my friend. (face palm) He was telling me how he'd just finished an Iron Man and I responded with "My friend is doing an Iron Man!"...This is the friend that was with me. They talked for the rest of the night and that was that. I remember being salty about the way it all ended but oh well, right? My friend found him on Facebook and another year went by, life as usual.
Out of the blue I received a message from the long lost brit from the bar mentioning he's in Florida for a golf trip and may fly out through NYC, and if he did, would I want to meet for dinner. He didn't end up flying out though NYC but this sparked what turned out to be 3 solid months of constant communication. Facebook messages turned into whatsapp messages, whatsapp messages turned into 3-hour phone calls and finally in November of 2013 he made his first trip to visit me. I was so nervous. You know when you have company coming and you suddenly panic that you need to throw out everything in your home and start over...that was me but x10.
I took a few days off work and showed him the best of NYC (the non-tourist version). About 12 weeks later he visited again. In the May I made use of my passport for the first time and came to visit him in the UK. From that point on, about every 10-12 weeks we flew back and fourth to see each other (him more than me). We spent nearly 3 years doing extreme long distance with a 5-hour time difference (probably one of the hardest parts).
It still seems so crazy to me that one of those random night's out actually led to me meeting my husband and hearing all of the events that transpired into leading up to that night on both sides, if one minor thing had been any different, we'd have never met!
Where are we now? Well, we're living in the UK, we've been married 2.5 years, we have a son that's soon to be 1, a dog that is more work than the baby and big plans for a big move to the US within the next few years!
Here's a photo montage of us over the years. Now excuse me while I go look at all of our wedding photos and wish I was still that skinny...