Two Worlds Collided...
Mar 30, 2024
Did I ever tell you about the time I met Jesse?
Warning 
If you don’t like long posts or sappy love stories, scroll along. Because this is wicked long and wicked sappy.How I met my husband…
Towards the end of my second semester of my sophomore year in college I was “done with love”.
It’s ok, take a minute to LOL…
Looking back, it's amusing to remember how, at 19, I thought I even knew what love was. Let alone to “be done” with it.
But nonetheless, I was exhausted by love, and simply longing to find contentment within myself.
I was at point where, and this is hard to describe;
I felt like I didn’t remember who I was. And I missed myself.
Have you ever felt that way before?
I remember that very night I made a promise to myself to find myself. And I prayed to God for the first time in years.
It went something like this;
“ Hey God, sooo….. I am done trying to find love. Please help me to just be ok with myself and who I really am. Please help me find confidence and independence. I am no longer looking for love, instead please help me to find myself. Amen”
Believe it or not; that night I met my husband.
After this prayer and what probably looked like a scene from Rocky when he takes that last punch but still gets up and you see confidence in his eyes and you just know he’s gonna win.
Because, I’ll be honest here, I was a very dramatic 19yo at the time
I stood up from my knees, and I went home.
It was the night before Easter, and being a guilty catholic girl, I felt like I should be home. When I arrived, my mom, by some twist of faith, told me, “you don’t need to be home, go to a party or something”.
Maybe my mom possessed some sort of sixth sense or divine intervention, or perhaps she was answering someone else's prayers, but this was highly unusual for her. Normally, she prioritizes family above all else. However, if she hadn't insisted on me returning to school that night, I might never have crossed paths with my soul mate.
I connected with some friends and ventured to a foam party hosted by the university at the student center. If you're a child of the 90s, like myself, you likely understand the concept. It was a bit underwhelming yet oddly enjoyable. We danced for a while and had a few laughs but eventually decided to find another party.
Back at my dorm room, we heard the sounds of a party echoing from across the hall. Fueled by my newfound sense of abandon, my friends and I decided spontaneously to crash it.
After my prayer, walking into that party I was unfettered. I was lost in the music and feeling more ME than ever. And yes, I probably had consumed a cheap beer or two (ok definitely, let’s face it, I was in college), but this was more than a buzz, I was intrepid.
I walked into that party and without a second thought or insecurity, I began to dance with all my might.
No, that’s not descriptive enough…
I didn’t just dance…
I danced reminiscent of childhood kitchen dance parties with my family. I danced like David. I danced like freedom. 100% free. 100% me. I frickin danced.
No facade.
No fear.
Just me.
In fact I danced so hard that I knocked over the CD player stereo, momentarily freezing the room.
Imagine a movie where they slow down time and everything is blurry and swirling slowly around you. So slow that you can almost see the sound.
That was the moment, betwixt the chaos, amidst the swirling and the; what I can only described as muffled, tangible, textured sound, I locked eyes with my future.
When I think back now, I swear I can hear the lyrics of “Never Tear Us Apart” by INXS quietly playing in the background of this 3 second encounter that seemed to last an hour;
“I was standing, you were there, two worlds collided. And they could never tear us apart.”
However this was not the song that was playing, and I never stopped dancing.
The CD player hit the floor with a crash. The sound thrusted time back into reality, and miraculously, by some fate of the analog generation, the song resumed playing at the exact uninterrupted beat, as if nothing ever happened.
Everyone at the party cheered wildly as if I had just stuck the landing on a triple back flip. I think I may have even added “jazz hands” for a little added flare. 
I laughed more boldly than I had in years. And my eyes remained locked on Jesse’s.
I never felt more alive than that before.
And that’s how we met.
Little did I know, Jesse had also made a similar prayer that day. He too was on a mission to just be 100% unapologetically himself.
Apparently he had noticed me long before. And even tried to meet me a few times. Despite living directly across the hall for months, we had never crossed paths until that night.
Both of us, tired of conforming to others' expectations, prayed for authenticity that night.
And it was deep into that authenticity where we found each other.
I know it sounds like some cheesy ending of a hallmark movie or a teen romance novel…
But this is the raw honest opening scene of the story of us
25 Easters later, here we are.
God as our foundation.
Authenticity in our roots.
Serendipity at its finest.
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