I’m Q. Not the all-powerful Star Trek favourite; the 29 year old living in Kent. In six months, I’ll be married, living in San Francisco and turning 30. I’m not sure which one freaks me out more.
This is the story of how I get there.
I guess I should start with the story of how I got here…
I was born on a winters day in…. nah, I’m kidding. Most of that is irrelevant. Needless to say I grew up in a very loving home with a wonderful family who managed not to mess me up too badly, which is all we can really hope for in a childhood. I went to a school I actually liked and made some fantastic friends worthy of keeping forever. I did a degree in the cold, rainy north of England where I developed a tolerance for bad weather and a love of good beer. While I was there I met a boy, affectionately known as The Boy by the friends, who turned out to be a keeper. We got engaged within the first few months of being together and then successfully managed to stave off the mental and financial nightmare that is getting married for 8 years. Until now.
Two months ago The Boy was given the opportunity to relocate to the San Francisco office of his company. It would have been insane to turn it down, even though this was one week before we were due to exchange contracts on a house and would have to get married if we both wanted to go (we did). Still, an unmissable opportunity is an unmissable opportunity so we said yes. Yes to pulling out of the house purchase, yes to getting married within six months and yes to uprooting our lives and moving 6,000 miles away.
Here’s hoping that sometimes the maddest ideas are the best ones!