Lately I’ve been spiraling into the black hole that is TikTok again—this time obsessing over the NYC Cute Couples videos. You know the ones: a random guy with a mic stops couples on the street and asks them about their love stories. And somehow, even the most camera-shy couples end up sharing these sweet, surprisingly vulnerable snippets about how they met, what they love about each other, and what makes their relationship work.
I don’t know why these videos hit me so hard, but they do. Every single time. Maybe it’s the way the stories unravel—awkward at first, then slowly warming up into something so human, honest, and oddly magical. I find myself smiling like an idiot while watching strangers talk about love. And of course, I start daydreaming: what if we were stopped like that? What would we say? What version of our story would we tell?
Watching these clips always sends my brain spinning. I start piecing together how we'd describe our beginnings, how different (and chaotic) it was from all the curated, picture-perfect stories you usually see online. But also… how beautiful that messiness really was. Alain de Botton said something in The Course of Love that’s always stuck with me—that while beginnings are powerful, real love begins after the first kiss, the first spark, the first “I love you.” That’s when the actual story begins, full of small choices and constant becoming. And man, that feels real.
Funny thing is, when we visited New York last year, I legit had this tiny secret hope that we’d bump into the NYC Cute Couples guy. Like, what if? Maybe at Times Square or walking through Central Park, holding hands and mid-banter, and suddenly boom—microphone in our faces. What would I say? Would I freeze up? Would he carry the conversation like he always does? Would we look awkwardly adorable or just awkward?
In this imaginary version of events, I imagine starting our story with a tiny laugh. “Well, we met on an app.” It's so normal now, but back then? We didn’t exactly advertise it. We’d only been texting for a short while when he asked for my number (no hesitation, very him), and suddenly we were talking for hours every day. Literally hours. Day after day. I still remember the rhythm of those calls—me lying on my bed, him probably pacing around with earbuds in. He said WhatsApp bugged out and couldn’t save my number—very suspicious but I gave him the benefit of the doubt. And just like that, phone calls became our thing.
We met a few weeks after that first call. And a few months later, we were officially dating. Fast-forward almost a decade and we’re still here, still talking, still us. It’s wild how fast time moves. I still remember him hesitating to tell people we met online—especially our families. There was this weird pressure to have a more “respectable” story. So yeah, when we got engaged, we sort of... rebranded our origin story. Polished it a little. Softened the details. Sorry, extended family, if you're reading this—guess you now know the full truth. Lol.
If we really did the TikTok interview, I think my husband would crack up while telling his version of our first date. He’d probably say something like, “She was cute, super chatty, and also weirdly investigative. Like, she opened my glove compartment, went through my wallet, checked my ID and cards…” Which is true, okay? But I was just curious! And yeah, I might have playfully punched him a few times throughout the date. Don’t ask why. I was nervous and apparently incapable of normal flirting.
And me? I'd probably say, “He looked nothing like his photo, but still—he was really cute. And I’d never talked to someone for that long and still wanted to keep going. That felt like something.” It really did.
Then there’d be that moment in the video where they ask, “What do you love most about them?” and you can almost see people’s brains slow down to really think. I imagine he’d talk about how I support him, how I have this weird blend of goofy and grounded. Maybe he’d mention how I tend to roll with life instead of resisting it. And I’d just smile because that’s us—we’re opposites in so many ways, but we keep finding ways to meet in the middle.
As for me? I’ve known it from the start: he’s the most sensible, steady, well-rounded man I’ve ever met. Strong, but incredibly kind. Protective, but always gentle with me. He never lets me walk through anything alone. He’s my soft place to land and my constant push to be better. He’s home. Simple as that.
We didn’t start off perfect. We still aren’t. We’ve fought, misunderstood each other, pulled away and circled back. But we’ve also learned—over and over again—how to love each other in real time, through real life. And honestly? That’s what makes me proudest.
Just the other night, we talked about how far we’ve come—how we finish each other’s sentences now, how we just get each other. It’s not the stuff of rom-coms. It’s quieter, deeper, more intertwined. We’ve grown into this rhythm that feels like us. Not idealized, not filtered. Just two people doing life together, and somehow making it work.
Someday I want to tell our kids this story. Not just the highlight reel, but the real parts. The awkward beginning, the long phone calls, the weird jokes, the growth, the commitment. How you find someone who sees all your chaos and still chooses to stay. How you build something slowly, with intention. How love isn’t just about sparks—but about showing up, again and again.
Here’s to more years of that. Of growing up and growing old together. Of dumb inside jokes and late-night talks. Of all the messy, lovely things that make our story ours.
Cheers
0 comments