The story of us, part 1
and the best margarita in Austin.
I hate answering how we met. “On Hinge” feels so 21st century and lame. I’m not embarrassed by the fact that we met on a dating app, I thank my lucky stars (or really, God) that our paths crossed in the form of a swipe. I hate the answer because it feels shallow, glossing over so many of the star-aligning moments that allowed us to be on the right app at the right time.
The short answer: we met on Hinge in October 2020.
The long story? It’s the story of us.
Love stories are magical—not because they’re perfect, but because they’re ours. They’re the beginning of our families, values, the start of a shared story only God could write.
When we lost Kennedy Claire, I found myself returning to the beginning—remembering how it all started. It helped me remember who we are and that everyone’s love story is worth sharing—even the silly Hinge ones.
Here’s ours.
When I set off for college in Texas, I was convinced my husband would be waiting for me. Unfortunately, he wasn’t. Texas was supposed to be the promised land flowing with milk, honey, & attractive Jesus-loving men (or wait, is that Utah?) Like every single girl, I tried to imagine myself with many guys on campus (testing Kennedy Claire’s name with every eligible bachelor’s last name…yep, I did that.) but the search was pointless.
I graduated in 2020, feeling very confused by the abrupt end to my college career and the fact that my MRS. degree was nowhere in sight.
That Covid summer was full of questions—like it was for most of us. Do I go back to Texas for grad school? Stay in Florida and forge a new path? Try something crazy (New York and a tattoo?) I labored over the decision all summer- it wasn’t that big of a decision but also, it felt like everything.
With the deadline to choose looming, I did the most important thing: lots of tanning. But one day as I was laying out in the yard, God showed up. I can count on one hand the “I’ve heard from God” moments, but this was one of them.
I had been mulling over the story of Abraham sacrificing Isaac for a few weeks. In that moment, in the yard, in a bikini of all things- God said plain as day: “you’re going up the mountain alone and I’ll provide a ram.”
A few months later, I was back in Texas. Confident that I was there for a reason, but very confused about what the actual reason was. I knew it wasn’t speech path (what I was in grad school for). I moved into the treehouse, studied from dawn till dusk and realized halfway through the fall semester that I wasn’t going to meet my husband in in a 99% female speech path cohort
Time to take matters into my own hands. Enter: Hinge.
And so the swiping began, but I established some ground rules first.
Rule #1: Fun only. No stress.
Rule #2: If his profile mentions alcohol, it’s a no.
It’s not that I was opposed to drinking, I just didn’t want that to be the main thing he was trying to convey about himself. Between that and the other strict preferences I had selected, the options in the tiny West Texas town I was in were sparse (and honestly, scary).
Call it desperate or creative, but after a fruitless search, I asked my grad school friend from Austin what the richest neighborhood was. “Tarrytown, I think?”
Great—worth a shot!
Turns out, all the men in Tarrytown are old and married (duh... it takes time to buy an 8.5 million dollar house). So I moved my “location” north just a bit. Maybe the men there would be borderline rich—but also in my age range?
It was then that I saw a very cute boy named Connor. But there was a problem. The first question on his profile was “What’s the best margarita in Austin?”
Sigh.
Guess he’s not the one….or so I thought.
More to come!
XOXO,
I love hearing people’s love stories! Can’t wait for part 2,K!
Me laughing at the fact that the rich men you were after at first were like 50 and it takes time to buy a $$$ house 😂