How I met my husband + my top 5 tips for finding true love!

by - 01 August

Pull up your pants and get ready for the story of how I met my husband! My Top 5 Tips for finding true love will be posted at the end! xo

Since today is Canada day and this story revolves around something important that happened at a restaurant called The Great Canadian Bagel, I figured it would be a good time to share. Otherwise, I have nothing interesting to say about Canada Day. If any of you non-Canadians out there are curious, all you need to know is that we paint our faces red and white, go to Tim Horton's, and sacrifice a lobster in a deeply meaningful ceremonious ritual.

Pretty cool, eh?

Anyway, to get to our story...


The Spring of my 16th year, I remember vividly there was a sudden influx of bees in my city. They were everywhere, sneaking into every crevice and crowding the already crowded farmer's market where I found myself most Saturday mornings.

Which was absolutely horrifying, if you ask me, because one thing you should know about me is that I have never been afraid of snakes, or rats, or mice, or June bugs, or spiders... but the gentle buzzing of a bee's wings will send me flying into a tizzy.

Yes, that's right. A tizzy.

For example, on more than one occasion over the years I found myself trapped inside my downtown apartment with nothing but a bee or hornet to keep me company, and on each of these occasions I ran like a madwoman and immediately sought the assistance of an adult.

But, shit, I was an adult.

No. I needed a real adult. An adultier adult. An adultier adulting adult.

(On at least two of these occasions, the only individual at my disposal was my landlord who lived below us. He stared at me like I was crazy when I asked him to go upstairs and kill the buzzer for me.

I didn't even care.)

I remember only once killing a hornet with my own two capable (incapable?) hands... Long after the little devil was dead, I was still on the floor rocking gently and trying not to throw up or pass out. So I guess you could say that didn't go well.

Anyway, you get the point. I hate the damn things. I realize there is a difference between a hornet and a bee, but I'll be damned if I'm going to stick around long enough to find out which one is buzzing around my head. The sound alone gives me anxiety.

But, my embarrassing failures aside, that Spring there were bees everywhere and I was spending my days indoors as much as possible, when a dear friend of mine invited me out to breakfast. (A friend who would one day be my brother-in-law, though neither of us knew it at the time.)

"The Great Canadian Bagel," he decided would be our destination of choice, as he picked me up in a tiny blue hatchback that resembled a blueberry more than an actual car.

We drove to the restaurant, ordered two trays full of breakfast foods and coffee, and then proceeded to pick a table.

"Outside!" my companion declared, gesturing to the bistro-style tables beyond the window.

I fell silent as my belly pooled with cold, hard dread. I can't clearly remember if I protested, I might have blacked out purely from the fear, but the next thing I remember is being seated in opposite chairs outside, surrounded by flower boxes over spilling with colors, while an unforgiving sun blasted us.

"Relax," he told me. "They won't bother you if you don't bother them."

He'd noticed I was sitting frigid in my seat, my back ramrod straight as bees fluttered all around. (I might also have momentarily stopped breathing.) He went on to try to distract me with recent stories of his life, but I barely heard a word. On the exterior, I was smiling. Internally, I was screaming.

I was only catching bits and pieces, until, suddenly, he said, "I saw my brother last night. Apparently, he's single again."

Through the fog of panic, I muttered some appropriately sympathetic response.

He went on to ask, "What do you think of my brother?"

This time, I forced myself to blink through the paralyzing fear. "I don't know him that well," I admitted.

Which was the truth. Despite having grown up around him, our age difference of nine years made it difficult for us to be close.

"I suppose not," my friend nodded, his eyes unfocused for a moment as he (most-likely) thought back to last night's family dinner.

But then, what he said next changed everything.

Almost casually and without any warnings, he stated,"My brother is actually really smart. In fact, he's probably going to be rich someday."

Annnnnd all at once I forgot the bees, forgot my fears, forgot everything! I threw my hands forward to slam them onto the table (which was very stupid since it was a glass top. I'm lucky it didn't shatter.) and announced, "Well, shit! Really? I should marry him!"

Then I threw my head back and laughed uproariously, while my friend looked on with appropriate horror, no doubt fearing for my sanity. (As though the paralyzing fear of bees wasn't proof enough.)

He shook his head profusely. "What? No!"

But I would not be deterred. I blatantly ignored his outright disapproval as a wicked grin spread across my face. 
"Yup. I'm doing it," I said. "I'm sooo doing it."

He continued to shake his head. I continued to ignore him, as evil plots manifested themselves in my mind. I might have spent the subsequent two years stalking my future husband with every tool at my disposal. (Facebook.)

Or I might not have.

I might, in fact, have forgotten all about that morning at the Great Canadian Bagel... until years later, when I was at the mall and a familiar figure suddenly materialized in the near distance before me.

Let it be known that I was in sweatpants, that my long black hair hadn't even been brushed, and that I wasn't wearing a stitch of makeup on my face.

My future husband was sitting at one of the mall cafe's, and upon noticing him, I'd turned and said, "Hi."

Apparently, that's all it takes.

Today, the Great Canadian Bagel story remains one of my favorites. It just seems funny to me that I was joking about marrying him years before it happened.

Anyway, I will wrap things up with my advice for anyone seeking true love:

1.     Choosing a life partner is one of the greatest acts of self-love you can do, so make sure you do it from a place of self-love. How you treat yourself is important in a relationship where two become one. xo
2.     That's pretty much it.
3.     There aren't even five tips.
4.     I lied.
5.     If the above fails you, find a rich guy and throw yourself in front of his car. You can either sue him or marry him, your choice. xo
Don't forget to eat a donut xo

You May Also Like