Carter and I walked down the aisle for the ~first time~ together in the summer of 2023 in the wedding of our dear friends, Claire and John Harrell. There wasn’t much to note about our 18 second walk together but I do remember thinking that “his biceps are kinda big,” and “oh yeah he’s the one that cried at the rehearsal dinner last night.”

That Fall, we both attended the Kanakuk Institute. Claire, once again, thought we needed to spend some time together and continued to tell me, “you need to be friends with Carter!” The first week at the Institute I let Carter know Claire was demanding we’d be friends, to which he replied “we’ll see.”

Despite the unenthusiastic “we’ll see,” I spent the year at KI content being just friends with Carter, and come October, Carter spent the year being discontent I was just friends with Carter. Between shifts at Lululemon, he may have spent some time pleading with God for my hand in marriage, or maybe just a date, but anyways that’s his story to tell.

Easter weekend of that Spring, I was visiting my brother in Malibu and recounting my days over text (to my own surprise) to Carter? Strangely and suddenly we found ourselves talking over the long weekend and we kept on talking and attempting to be around the other once I was back in town the following week. I remember telling my roommate MK, “this is weirdly working for me,” a fairly sure statement for my generally I’m-unsure -about-you self in the world of relationships.

A week before the program ended, Carter met me on the porch of my cottage and asked me to go on a date with him. I felt very known by the things he had to say about me, none of which consisted of “you’re just so sweet.” Thumbs up.

I agreed. A week later there wasn’t so much of a first date, we just up and started dating. He played his cards right and didn’t do any of the things I now love but then would’ve found cringey: opening my car doors and telling me he liked me and all that nonsense. Instead, we made terrible chocolate chip cookies, went to the gym, grocery shopped, coffee shopped, pulled weeds, watched movies—normal life stuff. No “I’ll pick you up at 8” robotic business.

Now, we’re walking down the aisle a second time. And I love him. I’ll let you know if his biceps are still big.