When I first met my husband, I thought we were totally wrong for each other. He was skinnier than me for one, which made me feel self-conscious, as it would for any girl I’m sure. We didn’t have too much in common. And he wasn’t American.
He had an accent, which took me by surprise, and told me he was from Africa. How exotic, I thought. I had never met anyone from Africa, let alone dated one. So I gave it a try. A few dates, what’s the harm? He was also leaving in a month, which meant we couldn’t continue seeing each other even if we wanted to. Which I was sure I didn’t want to.
It’s not that I didn’t like him. He was sweet, funny and charming. But he was from Morocco. I didn’t even know where Morocco was on a map! And marry him? How could I tell my suburban middle-class parents – or anyone in my life for that matter – that my new last name would be something they couldn’t pronounce?
Fast forward to today and after three years of practice, my family has finally gotten the pronunciation of my last name down. And I definitely know where Morocco is – and have been there!
My husband was a total surprise. He snuck up on me when I wasn’t looking until suddenly it was clear. He was everything I had been looking for – and more. It didn’t matter what his last name was or where he grew up. What mattered was that he cared for me and our relationship was something special.
Sometimes love is completely unexpected. It’s slow to start but soon that flicker of a flame burns furiously. One day you’re fumbling through small talk at a coffee shop, and the next you’re saying “I love you” in your doorway. We can’t control who we fall in love with or when. Nor should we. It’s so much more fun when we don’t know how things are going to go.
I’m so glad I didn’t write him off from the start. I followed things through, and it became one of the best decisions of my life.
If you have the chance to fall in love and be happy, take it. You never know where it could lead you. It could end up to be truly amazing.