I Met the Lesbian Love of My Life on Tumblr

"Out of the millions of people on the internet, the fact that we found each other has led me to believe that fate does indeed exist."

As a teenager, I was never one to daydream about my fantasy wedding, nor was I invested in the idea of “true love” as idealized by Disney movies and romantic comedies. While my friends lapped that stuff up, I just wanted to spit it out. What I actually wanted to do was admit to myself who I really was. I repressed my sexuality not only because I was scared of my family and friends’ reactions to me being gay, but because I felt that it would be somehow "wrong" for me to be a lesbian. I was suffocating under the pressure I put on myself.

For almost 10 years, I oscillated wildly between confusion and fear in regards to my sexuality, wrapping myself in lies as I went along. Being “too busy” for a boyfriend was my go-to reply when friends asked me why I wasn’t dating anyone. I dodged questions like that for far too long.

In the spring of 2016, still chronically sad, I became an insomniac. I had begrudgingly accepted that I was, in fact, a lesbian, and spoken to a few girls on dating apps to find a sense of comfort in my sexuality. But trying to find love online, especially while grappling with the full-time job of hiding my sexuality from the outside world, seemed to be futile. I wasn’t feeling a strong physical attraction to anyone, for starters, and I was admittedly still struggling to accept myself. So I surrendered to my insecurities and decided that being in love was simply not something I was born to experience. My newfound cynicism inspired me to write dark, self-reflective fiction, and I started posting my work to a Tumblr blog I curated during my waking hours — 9 a.m. to 4 a.m.

I was shocked that people on Tumblr seemed to enjoy my writing, but far more astonishing was that one follower was a fairly popular user whose blog I had long admired. All I actually knew about the owner of said blog was that she was also a lesbian, and judging by her profile picture and occasional selfies, was ridiculously cute. She fast became my first real, non-celebrity, 100% confirmed lesbian crush — but I had never spoken a word to this girl in my life.

I knew that even if nothing came of this, I at least wanted to give it a shot.

A few weeks later, I received a private message from her.

Whatever short sentence she wrote me is now a blur. What I do remember is blushing in front of my computer screen, my heart racing, and feeling a familiar sense of embarrassment over the extent to which I liked this mysterious person. I literally had nervous sweats. But I tried to keep calm, and plucked up the courage to send her a reply.

She told me her name was Alyssa, that she was 21 years old and lived in Texas. Texas. I lived on the south coast of the United Kingdom, a whole 4678 miles away. Incredibly deflated, I tried to shatter the hesitant daydreams I crafted over the weeks I had spent endlessly scrolling her blog. Instead, I mused about how pretty Alyssa’s name sounded and welcomed days spent in almost constant dialogue with her.

As I gleaned from her Tumblr posts, Alyssa was intelligent, cultured, and kind. Days after our initial exchange, I accidentally hit the video call button on Snapchat (I swear it was a mistake!); to my surprise, she accepted the call and I was suddenly face-to-face with her in real time. She offered a nervous “hi” in the American accent I’d longed to hear. When our eyes met, we both quickly looked away. Then, Alyssa shyly tucked a strand of shoulder-length blonde hair behind her ear while the corner of her mouth turned upward. My heart blew up.

We talked for four hours that night — until the sun was rising on my side of the world. For the first time, I felt completely unashamed of my sexuality. I felt safe with Alyssa in a way that I never had with anyone else. My whole being felt at ease, and I was warm and happy in conversation with her. Alyssa looked happy too, and as I fell asleep at dawn, I knew that even if nothing came of this, I at least wanted to give it a shot.

Alyssa and I continued to speak every day via FaceTime and text. Then, on August 9, 2016, Alyssa officially became my long-distance girlfriend. By the time we finally met in London the following March, we had endured a 280-day-long wait since we first met online.

Seeing Alyssa for the first time was surreal. We had discussed the possibility of our bond simply not translating from the screen to real life, but as soon as we hugged I knew that everything was going to be alright. Alyssa was just as beautiful as she appeared on FaceTime, and I couldn’t believe that she — that any of this — was real. From the quick first kiss we shared on a street corner outside of Starbucks to the way she laughed as I tried to not spill my nacho dip at the pub, it all felt perfect.

Two days after Alyssa flew home, I had no choice but to come out to my family when my mother guessed that there was “something going on” between me and Alyssa. Having met Alyssa briefly and only as my “friend,” my family took some time to process the fact that she was my girlfriend, but they were supportive. I ended up spending the entire summer in Texas with Alyssa and her family before I moved to New Jersey for the fall semester. I was lucky enough to see Alyssa every few weeks.

fter spending the summer together, living so many miles apart became much more difficult. Money always dictated the frequency of our visits. Time inched by when we were apart, yet flew past when we were together. We cried on FaceTime a lot — we missed each other; we were lonely. At the same time, we held tight to the notion that distance was making our relationship stronger, and that compared to this, we’d be able to deal with whatever should come our way in the future. Even on days when the pain felt unbearable, we vowed to make the miles count and build each other back up.

Although it felt like forever, it wasn’t terribly long before we were together again — Alyssa was accepted to pursue her master’s degree at my university in the U.K. the following January. After months of sacrificing our time, money, and sleep (working with a time difference isn’t easy), we were both elated by the acceptance email that gave us our chance at a real future together. Long distance did in fact make us stronger and more grateful for the little things, like napping together and being able to actually kiss each other, and together we are happier and more excited for life than ever.

When I think back to how we met, I feel so lucky. Out of millions of people on the internet, the fact that we found each other has led me to believe that fate does indeed exist. We now have the life that we dreamed of together, and neither of us can still quite believe it.

Sissy Family