When I first met Mary, I’ll admit—she wasn’t what I had imagined. I had my head completely wrapped up in footy, and I wasn’t looking for anything else. Mary, though, was different. She had this spark about her. She was confident, energetic, and had no problem speaking her mind. At the time, I wasn’t sure how to take her. I was surrounded by people who were serious, focused on their goals, and Mary seemed like a bit of an outlier. I thought, “This probably isn’t for me.”
But there was something in the way she spoke. It wasn’t instant attraction, but as we kept talking, something shifted. Her words weren’t like anyone else’s. She was completely honest, no filters, and that was something I hadn’t encountered much before. In a world full of pretenses, she was refreshing. Mary didn’t care if her opinions didn’t line up with everyone else’s. She was unapologetically herself, and that honesty—it drew me in.
At first, I didn’t think much of it, just a passing conversation. But the more we talked, the more I realized she saw the world in a way I hadn’t. She wasn’t about playing it safe, following the rules, or fitting in. Mary lived with a passion and freedom that I admired, even though I didn’t quite understand it at the time.
Over time, I started to fall for her—not in the typical way, not just because she was beautiful or had that spark. It was about the way she made me feel when we spoke. Slowly, I started to see Mary differently—not just as the confident woman I first met, but someone with depth and insight, someone who could challenge the way I thought about life. Through her, I started learning—not just about my sport, but about life, about love, and about letting myself be vulnerable.
In the beginning, I wasn’t sure how to love her. I didn’t know what to do with the feelings she brought up in me. But as time went on, I figured it out. I learned to love her in ways I never thought possible. I loved her strength, her independence, but also the way she could make me see the world differently. I loved how she made me laugh, how open she was about her own struggles, and how she never tried to be anything other than herself. With Mary, I didn’t have to hide behind any walls—I could just be me.
What’s special about our relationship is that we come from different worlds, but instead of trying to change each other, we embraced those differences. We were both driven, but in our own ways. I was all about footy, and she was passionate about her own dreams, too. At first, I wasn’t sure how that would work in my life, but I soon realized it didn’t need to fit perfectly. We didn’t need to be the same—we just needed to accept each other, flaws and all. And that’s when I started to understand just how deeply I loved Mary.
Looking back, I’m grateful for how things turned out. Our relationship didn’t follow the traditional path, but that’s what made it so meaningful. It wasn’t built on big gestures or perfect moments. It started with real, honest conversations that helped me see who she truly was. And once I understood that, I realized how much I loved her—not just for what she said, but for everything she is. It’s a different kind of love—steady, enduring—but one that’s grown stronger with each passing day.