A year ago, I was scrolling Facebook when I saw a post from someone I had gone to high school with.
Mel.
We had both attended a small private school in a tiny blip on the map in Georgia.
Anyone who grows up in a small town knows the significance of that.
Everybody knows everybody and it seems that you either stay there or you escape as quickly as possible only to long for it again throughout your life.
So, I’m absentmindedly scrolling Facebook, and I saw that Mel had posted a picture of what appeared to be enough alcohol to supply a small village—or, more accurately, one of the very large tailgates that he has been hosting for more than 30 years.
His dining room had become tailgate headquarters in preparation for the upcoming football season.
I laughed at his post.
That’s it.
I clicked the laughing emoji.
Apparently, you need to be very careful about these things.
Because Mel noticed.
I maintain that I was merely responding to the absurdity of the picture.
He maintains that my laugh gave him an opening.
Whatever the truth may be, his decision to reach out worked out rather well for both of us.
But the longer we have known one another, the more I have realized that our story did not really begin with a Facebook post.
On August 24, 2025, he sent me a Facebook message.
His opening began:
“I am going to apologize profusely for this in advance…” Well, that caught my attention.
He went on to explain that we had gone to Nathaniel Greene Academy at about the same time, so he felt like he should remember me…but didn’t.
I insinuated in response that he may not remember me because I was MUCH younger than him (only by a few years )
We began piecing together old names and places.
People we had both known.
I had played tennis with his sister.
I may have attended a Beta Club gathering at his parents’ lake house.
Then the conversation moved from who we had been to who we were now.
Children.
Work.
Where life had taken us.
My youngest had graduated, and I coped with the possible pain of empty nesting by filling my calendar with travels.
California. Havasupai Indian Reservation in the Grand Canyon. Italy
I told him that I was launching my youngest child into the world.
And then I wrote:
“…so traveling ensues!”
I smile when I read that now.
Because I had no idea what else was about to ensue.
A few days after those first messages, Mel asked me to meet for lunch or dinner.
He suggested Thai Won On, which had just opened in Monroe.
I got there first, and I could see the parking area from where I was sitting.
I watched him pull in.
He got out of the car with something tucked under his arm, and I watched him come down the hill toward the restaurant.
Be-bopping.
😂
He adamantly denies this.
“I don’t be-bop.”
I know what I saw.
As he came down the hill, I kept wondering what he was carrying.
When he walked inside, he greeted me and slammed down his copy of our high school yearbook on the table in front of me with a Sharpie marker on top.
“I’ve waited over 35 years to get your signature in my yearbook!”, he says.
“No, you haven’t! You didn’t even remember me!”, I retorted.
He managed to start our first date with a brilliant smooth move, and it somehow provided a glimpse into our “would-be” playful relational pattern at the same time.
We talked for 4 hours on that date much to the dismay of the Thai Won On staff who followed us out the door in unison as we left that night.
I texted my friends a “date recap” when I got home.
“It was good. We talked for hours. Lots of laughter and fun energy. I don’t know if he’s my type.”
That makes me laugh today. We think we know what our “type” of partner is….what we’re “drawn to.”
If only we would choose earlier in life to trust God with our romantic partnerships rather than choosing based on our sometimes toxic needs or unhealed versions of ourselves.
We continued chatting occasionally over the next week, and we went out once again before I left for California.
As our second date was ending, we hugged goodbye, and Mel was grinning from ear to ear as he said, “Yes! I’m really happy about this new ‘development’ in my life!”
I began laughing hysterically at the formality of his statement as nothing about us had felt formal even from the beginning.
Thankfully, he immediately recognized the humor in what felt obvious, and I grabbed him and quickly planted a kiss on his face before he left. 💋
In some ways, it felt like I was carrying Mel with me on my trip.
He had brought me a little “flight care package” before I left and had topped his little creation with a spirit ribbon that he had saved from our high school pep rallies.
Again…smooth.
Who is this guy?!
He was sentimental enough to save this memento from high school, and he’s using it to decorate a candy tower for my travels?!
Throughout my trip, I sent him photos of my sights. He showed genuine interest and had personally experienced some of the areas himself.
I felt like he was an integral part of my experience as he shared it with me from a distance, and he says that he was relishing in seeing it all through my eyes.
I felt like he was an integral part of my experience as he shared it with me from a distance, and he says that he was relishing in seeing it all through my eyes.
When I returned two weeks later, Mel asked if he could cook dinner for me one night.
I agreed and arrived at his house to the smell of deliciousness as soon as I got out of my car.
Dinner was literally “awe-inspiring” as this man most definitely could be a gourmet chef.
At the time, though, I didn’t know that about him.
I have to admit that I had the thought during dinner, “Man….you are REALLY trying hard to impress me.”
As I got to know him, I quickly realized that cooking is what he does! He wasn’t TRYING anything.
He added a plate to the table for me for a dinner that he would have cooked anyway!
Well, I’m sure that he went to a little extra trouble given that I was his guest, but it’s also true that if I hadn’t have been there for dinner that night, it would have still probably looked very similar!
We learned a lot over the coming months. About each other. About ourselves.
About what we wanted and thought we had wanted in a partner.
We learned what we actually needed that we were now discovering from each other.
The new year brought more travels which now included shared experiences.
It felt like each time we were together, we were on a new adventure….no matter if it was an ordinary Tuesday or if we were boarding a jet for take off.
When I was a little girl, I read a book series by Janette Oke.
The first book in the series was called “Love Comes Softly.” It was a storyline set in the time period of the westward expansion. Nineteen-year-old Marty travels west with her husband, Clem, to build a new life. Clem dies in a sudden accident shortly after they arrive, leaving a grieving, pregnant Marty stranded on the prairie with no way back to the East. Clark Davis, a local widower with a young daughter named Missie, needs a mother for his child and someone to help run his home. On the day of Clem's funeral, Clark offers Marty a practical arrangement: a temporary marriage of convenience where she has a safe place to live, with the option to return east later if she wishes. Marty accepts and moves into Clark's home, throwing herself into her new role as "Mama" to little Missie. Over time, Clark’s patient, gentle, and caring nature helps heal Marty's heart, leading her to find deep faith and true love. There was a moment in the book when a neighbor couple visits with Clark and Marty, and the couple playfully teases each other in front of Marty. Marty reflects how much they seem to love each other, and the neighbor answers, “Oh, NOW we do.” She goes on to explain that their relationship had started out of sheer need and they grew to love each other deeply. She said “Love isn’t always fireworks. Sometimes love comes softly.”
I think that is what felt a bit confusing to me in the early days of meeting Mel.
I didn’t feel anxious energy which is sometimes mistaken as “fireworks” early in dating relationships.
It felt comfortable.
Like he had always been my friend.
Like he was familiar.
I didn’t feel the need to be anything other than who I am.
We were Raw. Real. Genuine. And it was mutually embraced.
I now define “fireworks” differently.
We experience genuine excitement to see each other because we enjoy our time together.
The “fireworks” developed over time through authentic connection and pure intentions. Trust.
Completely different feeling than the anxious attachment that defines most ideas of “fireworks”!
In the spring before I met Mel, I wrote a blog post called “I Will Wait…”
It was one of the most vulnerable things I had written about my personal life.
Throughout my life, I had trusted God with so many things—my children, my work, my businesses, my decisions, and the next steps placed in front of me.
There was one area, however, that I had held onto with a death grip:
My Partner.
I thought that if I could identify precisely what I needed, create the right list, make the right choices, recognize every possible risk, and remain vigilant enough, I could somehow protect myself from heartbreak while also finding the love I desired.
Yes, I recognize the flaw in that logic.
I had approached romantic relationships with a mixture of longing, fear, logic, trauma responses, people-pleasing, and enough analysis to produce a fairly respectable dissertation.
But love cannot be managed into existence.
It cannot be controlled into safety.
And it cannot be received through clenched fists.
During the April 2025 full moon, I finally released it.
Not the desire for love.
I released my belief that it was my responsibility to energetically force, arrange, manifest, or manage how that love would find me.
I gave it to God.
And in the blog post I wrote afterward, I acknowledged something that had taken me years to understand:
The only way to receive is with open hands.
To my pleasant surprise, I felt a complete peace in my life that I had never experienced before.
I didn’t feel like I needed a partner to complete me.
I felt completely satisfied for the first time ever.
This past April…Nearly a year later, I was in Cortona, Italy.
One night while I was gone, Mel decided to read some of my writing.
He found “I Will Wait…”
As soon as he finished reading, he messaged:
“Can you talk for a sec?”
He called me and described the scene as he discovered that post.
As he read, he began recognizing the timing of my writing with his own pivotal turning point in his own life.
He told me about having to stand up and pace the room as he took breaks from reading because he couldn’t process it all as the timing came into focus.
The words I had written while releasing control had been written the same EXACT day in which he was dealing with a health crisis and voluntarily deciding to change his own life.
During the exact time that I had been writing about surrender,
He had been living it.
I had been telling God, “I will wait.”
Mel had been choosing to become the man who would eventually reach out to me.
He had chosen to enter my inner world—to learn about the experiences, fears, healing, faith, contradictions, and hope that had shaped me.
But what he discovered there was not simply more information about me.
He found part of his own story.
I do not believe that every situation has to be turned into a sign or that every moment must be assigned a grand spiritual explanation.
And, also… I have learned not to dismiss the quiet convergence of timing, courage, readiness, healing, and grace.
God is working in people and places we cannot see.
Sometimes the preparation for a relationship begins long before the introduction.
Sometimes two people are being asked to release different things so they can recognize one another when their paths finally cross.
Whenever anyone asks us when we met, I say, “Well…Mel stalked me on Facebook and then messaged me.”
Mel argues that I “started it” by laughing at his post.
🙄
Well, I dunno about that, but, if so, that apparently means that a simple laugh means “Hello there, Handsome! Please slide into my DMs immediately!🤣” so be careful with those Facebook reactions, y’all!
What I do know is that this story began long before either of those events happened.
I am profoundly grateful that I laughed—and that he took it personally.
And, Also…I know that this one year anniversary date of a simple gesture is one worth celebrating.
Our First Date August 28, 2025
My First Tailgate!
