three arms, one heart
happy Valentine's Day to you and yours
A few months ago, a kindergartener at my church made the connection that Daniel and I are married. “But how can you be married if you don’t have the same color hair?” she asked me, quite serious.
We do not have the same color hair. Despite that setback, it’s been nearly a decade since our first date and we’ve been choosing each other ever since. By God’s grace I hope we’re choosing each other for decades to come, til our hair turns white and finally is the same color.
I thought it would be fun to write something a little different for Valentine’s Day weekend and share a bit about my and my husband’s story.
Some people don’t like to write about their personal lives. Those people usually aren’t funny.
The Sighting - Fall 2014
I can still remember the first time I saw him. It was not love at first sight. It was not, I’m going to have that guy’s babies one day.
It was simply, Oh. That must be the one-armed guy in BCA I heard about. I think his name is Daniel.1
The First Real Conversation - Fall 2015
Sophomore year began, and we saw each other around more. We moved in the same wider social circle, and would give a nod or a quick hello if we crossed paths on campus. Two of my friends had worked at a camp with Daniel that summer and said he was great. I tucked that away.
My roommates and I lived in an old house a short walk from campus, and we’d heard that the house next door was being renovated, and Daniel and his friends were moving in that summer. Did we immediately joke about making potential matches with the new boys next door? Of course.
When I saw Daniel at a tailgate later in the football season, I struck up our first real conversation.
Me: So I hear y’all are moving next door this summer?
Him: What?
Me: I live on Welsh. Aren’t you moving into the house next to us?
Him: No, I think it’s a different house.
I smiled and blinked at him for a minute, waiting to see if he would give any attempt to keep the conversation going. He did not. I wandered off.
Later, I would come to find that technically, he was correct. He was moving into a new build across the street, not the house next door. Nevertheless, it’s fair to say this dismal exchange set us back a year.
Things Are Happening - Fall 2016
The boys moved in over the summer, and our two houses began spending more and more time together as junior year began.
One Saturday, a gaggle of us were gathered at a friend’s house watching college football. Daniel and I sat at the table in the corner, just the two of us, finishing a puzzle of Neuschwanstein Castle that had been left sitting out, half-done. By the time the last piece was put in place, it was clear: I had a crush on the one-armed BCA guy who lived across the street.
Like a psycho, I would peer through my front blinds to see if his car was home, before casually walking over and asking if anyone wanted to hang out. Didn’t know who was home, I’d say, very chill and cool, but wanted to see if anyone wanted to go to Chick-fil-a?
And yet, I was afraid. For whatever reason, despite the puzzle vibes, I was rather certain that Daniel did not like me like that. And how painful would it be, I worried, to peer through the blinds one day and see him taking another girl out?
One night a group of us were studying at Daniel’s house. I don’t study well with other people, I was just there to flirt. Meanwhile, a gal friend was feeling very existential that night about her future.
“I just want to do things that make my heart beat fast,” she said. Dreamy college stuff. We’ve all been there. We listened to her musings for a while.
It got late, so I said goodbye to everyone and walked the 30 yards home. I was in my jammies, pulling back the covers to get in bed when my phone lit up with a text from Daniel.
Hey, I know you just left but can you come outside for a second?
I dropped my phone on the floor. This is it, I thought. He’s going to say to my face that he doesn’t like me.2
I hurriedly got redressed and walked out my door into the dark. Across the way, his front door opened, light falling onto the sidewalk.
He began what can only be described as an awkward speed-walk towards me, head down and words spilling out while he was still yards away.
“Hey I just wanted to say that I think you are really cool and I’ve loved getting to know you more lately and Shanti said that we should do things that make our hearts beat fast and I kinda feel like I’m gonna throw up right now so I wanted to know if you’d want to go on a date sometime?”
Look down at your watch and count five seconds. It feels longer than you’d think. That’s about how long I stared at him silently, trying to compute what I had just heard.
He interpreted my shocked silence negatively (which, fair).
“Yeah, never mind, me neither, don’t worry about—” he started, quickly turning around.
“No!” I shouted, cutting him off. “I mean, yes! I’d love to go on a date with you. Thank you for asking me.”
An Interruption - Later in Fall 2016
Daniel’s college house was known for its roof, which you could easily climb onto through one of the back windows. It was one of the few two-story houses in the neighborhood, so sitting on the roof with Kyle Field towering in the distance made you feel very cool. (You were not, but our college town was not known for its thrilling vistas or towering buildings. We took what we could get.)
By the second or third date I had told him very sternly, “Do not try to kiss me anytime soon.”3 Weeks went by. Maybe a month or two? Things were going well. But eventually, he got brave.
One evening, we were sitting on the roof after going to dinner together. He asked if he could kiss me. Once again, my brain short-circuited, and I was painfully slow to respond.
Somehow, in that exact moment, one of Daniel’s roommates had been making his way onto the roof to hang out with us.
“Hey guys,” he said, as Daniel’s question still floated in the air, unanswered. “What’s up? I hope I’m not interrupting anything. Thought I could hang with y’all up here for a minute.”
We both sat silent, unmoving.
“What?” the roommate said. “You guys can’t hang out with me anymore since you’re dating? I can’t just sit with my friends on the roof?”
Gathering Data - Fall 2017
A year went by. We were falling in love. And I was taking notes on the kind of man this man was. Literally.
There are the things that matter most: does he love God? Does he actually live like it? Then there are things that are smaller, but still important: when a rogue bottle of mustard falls off the table, what does he do next?
We liked (and still like) sports. In college, my dad worked for A&M and we got to go on the field for football games. Pictured above was a big day for me—my first attempt at the “possessive arm” pose. This wasn’t just a guy, it was my boyfriend.
I was too nervous to fully commit, though, so I stuck with a simple closed fist to the mid-torso. Daniel describes his own posture in this photo as “going very still,” like a threatened animal. Over time, we got more comfortable.
It was weird to have my first real boyfriend without my mom there to meet him. Instead of a sweet, warm woman to welcome him into family functions, Daniel had to deal with three guys.
My brothers really ran with the no-arm thing. My older brother, unprompted, sent this to us one day, less than a year into dating.
Reader, I Married Him - Fall 2018
We got engaged in April 2018. Best of all, I didn’t even pause, shocked, for five seconds before saying yes. No one had time to interrupt. Our friends threw us a party, complete with a poster saying “Three Arms, One Heart.”
We said “I do” a few months after graduating. I had just turned 23, Daniel was still 22. There was a lot we didn’t know then. We knew enough, though.
I came across a beautiful post the other day from Denise Trull about Julia Child and her husband, Paul. She shared this quote from Julia:
“I knew that if I gave Paul my life, he would not drop it.” What a simple yet perfect thing to say about someone you deeply love.4
I knew that if my life was a bottle of mustard, knocked on the ground by challenges or chance, Daniel would pick me up and set me right. He has. Even when his hands hand is full.
BCA is the Brotherhood of Christian Aggies, a Christian men’s organization at Texas A&M, my giant public university. Funnily enough, there was also a men’s organization called One Army that Daniel was not in—but feels like he would’ve for sure been accepted.
Has any 20 year old boy ever actually said this? In reality most college boys would probably let you flirt with them forever. Why did I think this was within the realm of possibility?
We can explore why I said this another time.
What a storybook love story!! We love Dan and we love Han and we love Dan and Han!! ♥️
I love this so much but the Soul Surfer meme is so rude and so brotherly 🤣😭
I almost snorted at the part where you thought he would confront you with his dislike!