In 2015 I was in my early 20s and living in New York City, working as a journalist and moonlighting as a comedian. My dating life was not going well, and my poor little heart had taken a beating. Dating in the city had set the bar very low. But even if it hadn’t, Douglas would’ve stepped right over it.
On our first date, something felt different. For one thing, I spent the entire time talking, rather than smiling and nodding when appropriate. Instead of knocking back a series of drinks just to get through it, I found myself nursing a single cocktail the entire evening as I fielded his questions about my opinions and aspirations. Compared with the self-indulgent jerks I usually suffered through dates with, Doug’s common decency was a revelation. I even phoned my mum on the way home to gush about him.
Weeks went by before we arranged a second date, but when he kissed me on that crisp autumn night in Brooklyn Bridge Park after a perfect evening of Italian food, ice-cream and debating politics, a rogue thought crashed unbidden into my mind: “You’re kissing the man you’re going to marry.” I didn’t think I was looking for anything as serious as a husband, but the thought was so loud and so clear, I journalled about it that night.
Things were going well and I fell for him hard. A few weeks later we were meeting for dinner at a dumpling place in Williamsburg; as soon as he arrived I sensed something was off. When we finally sat down he said he’d been offered a job in Melbourne, Australia. My stomach sank. I cried all the way home in the cab then called my mum, sobbing.
I was shocked by how upset I was and I knew that I couldn’t let him go so easily. My mother, being the hopeless romantic she is, endorsed this folly completely. “Well, it’s simple,” she said. “I guess you’re going to Australia.”
I was unhappy in my job and on our first date I’d jokingly told Doug not to get too attached, as I planned to quit and backpack around the world, starting in Australia. I figured I could leverage this to explain what I did next.
As he prepared for his move to Melbourne I casually told him I was heading to Sydney on a work-holiday visa. In my mind, the distance between Sydney and Melbourne was enough that I could play down any creepy stalker vibes. But when Sydney didn’t work out and I moved to Melbourne a few months later, my claims that it was for the comedy scene felt flimsy, even to me.
If life was a romcom it would have been fine, but in reality I had effectively hunted this man across the globe and frankly, he was a little freaked out. Doug took my impulsivity as a possible red flag and tried to keep things casual.
But a few months later, as I prepared to head back to grad school in Chicago, his trepidation dissolved and he finally realised he felt as strongly as I did. The day I left Melbourne we had one of the most heartfelt and heartbreaking farewells in history, but he promised we’d meet again.
As I licked my wounds on a stopover in Thailand, he sent me a playlist. Every song said something about us and as I listened, weeping, on the plane I knew our story was far from over. By the time I landed in Chicago, instead of breaking up like I’d assumed we would, we went exclusive and did long distance for two punishing years.
I moved back to Melbourne months before Covid lockdowns began. My career as a live performer stalled and I sunk into a deep depression. But through it all, Doug was a ray of sunshine. He’s not an animal guy but when our guest room lay empty for months thanks to travel restrictions, he let me fill it with foster kittens. After years of being on the other side of the world, we became the whole world to each other.
Doug proposed in 2022 on the beach at Inverloch with a sapphire the colour of the ocean. The night before we were married, I crawled into bed with my journal and read him that entry from our second date, for the first time. We love our life in Melbourne and every day I am grateful I followed my heart, all the way to the other side of the world. Twice.
Mel McGlensey stars in Mel McGlensey is Normal, showing at the The Bally at Gluttony – Rymill Park as part of the Adelaide fringe festival from 20 February to 1 March
