February 1, 2013

For the first love story of the month, I have to start with the one that started it all—mine.

It began in 2009 at JCLC camp in Fort Eustis, Virginia. Now, if you imagine summer camp as s’mores and campfires, think again. This was JROTC camp—pushups, drills, and endless awkward teenage moments. Cody and I were 14 and 15, too young to know much about love, yet old enough to feel it flutter. Between marching and sweat-soaked uniforms, we wrote little love notes, laughed until our sides hurt, and shared stolen moments that felt monumental. On the last day of camp, he kissed me on the cheek. That tiny gesture? It lingered in my heart far longer than either of us knew.

Our first date was a trip to Kings Dominion, the halfway point between our worlds. We were both so nervous—me, especially, because I was terrified of rides—but I was determined to make a good impression. So, with my heart pounding, I climbed into the Drop Zone. Cody, sensing my fear, whispered a silly trick: to imagine the people below were tiny ants we could squish as we rose. I don’t know if it was meant to distract me or comfort me, but it worked… and I definitely didn’t see the drop coming.

We paused for our first photo booth picture there, giggling and awkward, and decided to turn it into a tradition. Later, we took a quiet break in front of what was then the Tomb Raider ride. I rested my head on his shoulder and looked up at him. He met my gaze, and in that instant, we shared our first kiss. I will never forget the electricity, the connection—it felt like the world had shrunk to just the two of us.

Though miles separated us after that first date, we stayed friends, holding onto that spark and the memory of an unforgettable day.

Years later, after my heart had been brutally broken, Cody checked on me—not as a boyfriend, just as the friend who had always known me. We had no intentions to become anything more than friends—I had plans, and he had his—but God had bigger plans.

February 1st, 2013, everything changed. Cody and I were on our way to meet his parents—just friends, nothing more. He pulled over in a church parking lot and asked me to go steady. That simple question turned a friendship into a love that would define us, a love that would carry us through every challenge to come.

We married on July 15th, 2015, right after Cody graduated Marine Corps boot camp. Our wedding was on the beach, the waves crashing around us, the music drowned out by the wind—but we didn’t need music. I could hear his heartbeat, see the devotion in his eyes, and feel the depth of a love that had waited years to find its perfect moment. As 1 Corinthians 13:7 reminds us, “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.”

The Marine Corps tested us in ways few could understand: detachments, long stretches apart, the weight of uncertainty. But each trial made us stronger. For nine years, we have faced life hand in hand—through mistakes, growth, laughter, tears, and everything in between. Nothing has broken us, because we refuse to let it. We focus on the good, the love, the laughter, and the unshakable bond that holds us together. As Ecclesiastes 4:12 says, “Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves, a cord of three strands is not quickly broken.” God has been the third strand in our marriage, keeping us strong.

Since November 2015, North Carolina has been home. We welcomed our first child in August 2019 and our second in June 2021. Parenthood has been beautiful chaos—messy, overwhelming, but filled with endless love. And through it all, Cody and I have remained each other’s safe place, each other’s home, each other’s heart.

Cody has always been my best friend, my safe place, my go-to when I’m sad or need to vent. He is the definition of love and patience. He has stood by me and protected me—not just from the challenges life throws our way, but from my own inner demons. His steady presence, his unwavering support, and his kindness have always reminded me what it feels like to be truly loved.

Looking back, our story began with a cheek kiss at summer camp and grew into a love that defies distance, time, and circumstance. Love isn’t perfect—it’s messy, unpredictable, and tested—but when it’s real, it’s unshakable. It’s laughing at pushups in 2009 and holding each other through detachments in 2After nine years, two kids, countless memories, and every test life has thrown our way, I can say this: love is about showing up, choosing each other, and holding on—even when it’s hard. And when you find that kind of love, it’s the most romantic, the most comforting, and the most extraordinary thing you’ll ever know. It’s listening to the ocean instead of the wedding music and still feeling like the world has stopped just for us.

After nine years, two children, countless memories, and every challenge life has placed in our path, I’ve learned this: love isn’t just a feeling—it’s a choice. It’s showing up, protecting one another, growing together, and holding on when it would be easier to let go. And when you find a love rooted in friendship, faith, and perseverance, it becomes your safest place in the world.

If you’re still waiting for your love story, don’t lose heart. And if you’re living in the middle of one—through chaos, distance, or growing pains—hold onto it. The most beautiful love stories aren’t perfect; they’re faithful, resilient, and written over time.

And sometimes, they start with a cheek kiss you never forget.