As I entered my mid-30s, my long-term relationship, which had begun at 21, came to a natural end. Embracing singlehood was liberating, providing me with the empowerment I needed as I shifted careers from teaching to social work.
During my final placement in 2024, I met Mill, who intrigued me with their ability to foster a safe and welcoming environment. Our conversations over Teams often felt like the beginnings of a genuine friendship, although Mill was technically my manager and we both maintained professionalism.
Despite the potential for an awkward power dynamic, I was older than Mill and took the initiative to ask them out after my placement ended. The invitation lingered in our work chat for weeks until, unexpectedly, they agreed to join me for a gig. Our experience was quintessentially queer; neither of us could ascertain if it was a date.
We hardly paid attention to the music that night, captivated instead by each other’s conversation. I soon recognised that Mill’s serious exterior concealed a wonderful sense of humour. We discovered shared life experiences, having both navigated our wild youth and now leading more grounded lives, which drew us closer.
Shortly after our first outing, Mill confessed their feelings in a lovely text. A few weeks later, we found ourselves on an official date. After a comedy show, we enjoyed a nightcap at a soju bar, strolling along Birrarung until sharing our first kiss amidst the mundane backdrop of garbage collectors in Melbourne’s Fed Square.
For much of my life, I had contemplated my queerness without conclusive experiences, reluctant to affect others’ lives while I searched for clarity. Yet, with Mill, the connection felt compelling and safe. As we spent time together outside of work, I began to appreciate the depth of Mill’s beauty, kindness, and spirit, gradually forming a coupledom that felt substantial.
Mill’s innate thoughtfulness, such as preparing snack packs for visitors and celebrating friends’ achievements, reinforced my admiration. As the year concluded and I finished my social work studies, I faced a tough decision about my teaching registration. Choosing to let it lapse was monumental; I awaited confirmation with a mix of emotions.
When that letter arrived, Mill surprised me with a homemade carrot cake, cheekily inscribed “Happy Deregistration”. This act solidified my understanding of Mill’s profoundly compassionate nature, evidencing their attentiveness and support in my life.
This cake, while marking a bureaucratic change, also symbolised the start of an exciting new chapter. I learned to let go of past expectations, embracing the freedom that came with knowing I had found someone who truly understood and cherished me. Being with Mill has been transformative, filling my life with warmth and a sense of belonging that dispels loneliness.