Once I Stopped Trying To Find It, True Love Found Me.

Ever since I was little, I dreamed of being wanted. I wanted someone to look at me the way my Dad looks at my Mom. Watching old family movies where my Dad would be operating the camera, my Mom would come into view and my Dad would zoom in until she was the only person you could see. My parent don't call each other pet names. They are not overly affectionate. Their love story is not the kind you read about in storybooks; Yet I wanted (and still do want) a love like theirs.

My parents

Like most little girls, growing up I had plenty of crushes. I would be completely twiterpated with a boy one day and the next week I would have completely forgotten about him and moved onto the next cutie. Reading my childhood diary, I counted the names of 21 boys that I claimed to love during my Elementary School career. In Junior High, I started to "mature" a bit and I only claimed to love 4 or 5 boys. The summer before my Sophomore year in Highschool, I was introduced to a boy that would become my first boyfriend.

His name was Justice. He was tall, had big hands that I loved to hold, and was 17 years old. He liked to listen to me, and he would look at me in a way I had been looked at. He seemed perfect for me. He was kind of shy while I was outspoken. He was LDS. He liked me. He wanted me. I thought I had found the love of my life at 15 years old. I did not realize how quickly I could become emotionally attached to someone.

When I told my Mom I gave him my first kiss, she gasped in shock. I wasn't even supposed to be dating until I was 16. My parents were less than pleased with my choice in a boyfriend, as well as my young age. Despite their cautions, I was sure I had found my future husband. The longer I dated Justice, the more fights I had with my parents and friends. Everyone around me could see that I was in love with the idea of being wanted by someone, but I couldn't see that he was not what I truly wanted.

 I chose to ignore the fact that despite dating him for close to a year, we had never been on a real date. My first date was actually with a boy who would eventually become one of my best friends. Justice never bought me flowers. He took me one date in our entire relationship. I started to realize that I was becoming more like his mother than a girlfriend. I did not want to admit that I was wrong about finding my true love. I "dated" Justice from August 2009 until January 2011. It took me a year and a half to realize that true love was more than just being wanted.

Throughout the rest of High School, my friends and family saw me make the same mistake over and over again. I would meet a boy, fall head over heels for him and becoming very emotionally attached only to have my heart shattered when my sentiments were not returned, or at least not quite as emphatically.

In my first year of college, I had not met anyone new. Wanting to feel wanted again as I once did with Justice, I decided to go on a dating site to find someone to love. That website is where I met Sam. He was 22 years old and getting ready to go on a belated LDS mission. We chatted online almost everyday. We had planned to meet up before he left for his mission but everything fell through. He left in January 2013 for Alaska. I didn't have the guts to write him until March. After my initial letter, we were constant pen pals.

I told my friends about him. I read the letter to and from him to my parents. I wrote to my brother who was also serving an LDS mission about him. I told them all that he was someone I could see myself marrying. I would rush to the mailbox everyday, knowing it was impossible but still hoping somehow that his reply to my letters would be there the day after I sent mine. Everyone could see that I was happy. I was excited about what the future. I was sure that I had found my special someone this time.

One day is early July, I got my letter from Sam and opened it excitedly. I ran downstairs to sit on the couch near the computer so I could tell my recently returned brother, Ben, what Sam had said this time. I was expecting Sam him to tell me how wonderful the mission was and tell me that he missed me. He started the letter out just as any other. I laughed at a joke he had made. My brother looked up from the computer and smiled at how happy I seemed. Then the letter changed. I read the words "I think you have become too attached to me. I think you should take a step back. Don't write me anymore. I am worried that you are more invested in this than I am willing to be. I'm sorry. This is the last letter you will get from me."

I was crushed. I gripped the arm of the couch and sobbed. Ben whipped his head around at the sudden change in my mood. He came over to see what was wrong. I couldn't speak. I just handed Ben the letter and pointed. I wrote Sam a final letter apologizing for seeming over eager and told him that if he ever changed his mind, he knew my address so he could write me. For weeks I watched the mailbox for another letter.

I had, again, been wrong about finding my true love. I decided it was time to stop taking love so seriously and just have fun with it. Just go on dates. I had heard about an app called Tinder. Many of my friends had gone on it and told me of the little one time dates they went on with people they met on Tinder. I decided to try it out, mostly as a joke.

Tinder is more shallow than a dating site. It is your profile picture, your age, your basic location, and an optional line about you. You would swipe right if you liked the picture and swipe left if you didn't. If you swiped right to someone and they swiped right to you, then the two would be a match and you could then talk.

My Tinder Picture

I had been on Tinder for about a week. I had a few matches and I talked to some of them. Nothing was sticking, but I was having fun talking to people and making friends. I came across a picture of a boy named Stephen.

Stephen's Tinder Picture

I thought he was kind of cute and I swiped right. Immediately I had been alerted that he was a match. I messaged him a greeting. We chatted for a few days then he said "Well, we could chat online forever or we could meet in person."

I was pleasantly surprised that he made the first move. I accepted the invitation to meet him. He planned a date. He told me to wear jeans, shoes that could get dirty, and work gloves. He gave no other details about the date, just asked where he could pick me up. I gave him my home address.

On the second day of my new job, I told my co-workers all about the mystery date with the boy I had never met. We made guesses about what I would be doing on the date. Horseback riding? A service project? I would just have to wait and see what Stephen has planned for me.

After work, I got ready for the date. Unsure of what I was going to be doing, I used minimal make-up and tied my short hair into a stubby ponytail.

I heard my Mom yell from upstairs "Emma, are you expecting someone?"
I answered "You know I am!"
I ran upstairs waited at the door for the sound of the doorbell.

When I opened the door, I was slightly confused. The person standing in front of me did not look like the person I had planned the date with. The person in front of me had stunning blue eyes, thick blonde hair, and his posture seemed much better than in the picture.
"Stephen?" I asked.
"Hey, you must be Emma." he answered with a smile.
"Yes, that is me." I giggled and pushed him out the door adding "Shall we go?!"
"Uhm... sure?" He answered, surprised at my haste.
We were half way to his car when I heard the front door swing open and my Mom yell "WAIT! WAIT! Don't I get to meet him?"
My face turned bright red as I turned around and slowly walked back to my Mom. I whispered an apology to Stephen, who just laughed in response. After he officially met my Mom, we left for our date.

In the car I asked him what we would be doing. He told me about the hike we would be doing and then we would go out for ice cream. A hike. That seemed doable and from what I could gather, the hike seemed fun. As we drove, his phone rang. The Doctor Who theme song erupted from his phone and the thought popped into my head from the fangirl section of my brain "Oh. My. Gosh! I think I am in love!" Trying to not get too attached to this one on our first date, I just told myself I loved Doctor Who, (which is a very true statement) not the man who had its theme song as his ringtone.

We made small talk as we tried to get the first date jitters out of our systems. As we pulled into a parking lot and got out, he began to walk toward an incredibly steep hill-ish looking mountain with a rope dangling on it. We continued to walk closer and I studied Stephen's face to see if this was just a prank and the real hike we would be doing was somewhere else. He seemed completely serious.

 We reached the rope and I looked up at the steep "hike" we were about to attempt. He started first and I followed. A quarter of the way up, I stopped, out of breathe and admitted "I don't know how much farther I can make it...."
Stephen turned and said "I think you can do it! Come on, it will be so cool up at the top."
In my head I responded with "You don't even know me! I am not this physically fit! I feel like I might die and we aren't even half way!"

Fearing I would ruin the date by being a wimp, I continued to climb. When we reached the halfway mark, I sat down and sighed "I'm sorry, I can't go any further. I have to think about getting down... alive." Stephen sat down beside me and assured me that it was ok. He pulled out two bottles of Gatorade and we look over the Salt Lake Valley and talked.

We hiked down, went for ice cream and he drove me home. I forgot he was not familiar with where I lived so he missed the exit twice. Once we finally got back to my house, I thanked him and told him I would like to go on another date with him sometime. "Sure, next time, you plan it." He answered. I got out of his car, went into my house, and straight to my parents room to tell them all about the date.

"So, did you like it? Was it fun?" My Mom asked.
"I had fun, I mean I didn't do the whole hike, but I had fun. I like him. I think he is really cute, but I don't think he is interested in going on another date with me."

I logged onto Facebook as part of my nightly ritual. A friend request caught my eye. I clicked on it at saw that Stephen had added me as a friend. I smiled and tried to suppress the butterflies as I began a healthy session of Facebook stalking. Looking through his pictures, I saw that he was a very talented photographer. I pulled out my phone to text him and tell him I was impressed and thank him again for the date.

He responded quickly, thanking me for the compliment and asking me if I had ever been to the Utah Museum of Fine Art. Surprisingly, even though I had lived in Utah my whole life I had never been to that museum. He asked if I would want to go with him. I don't think I had ever responded faster to a text than when I said "Yes!" to seeing Stephen again.

A few days later I was at a church function with my family. My friend, Brie, pulled me aside and asked how my first date with Stephen had gone. I kept smiling as I told her the story. She told me that there was going to be a young single adult dance after the activities that evening and suggested I invite Stephen to come. I was excited to let Stephen know I wanted to see him, but for some reason I was sure the he would decline my invitation. To my surprise, Stephen accepted and an hour later he was up at my house.

We walked together over to where the YSA dance was supposed to be. As we walked toward the music, we saw that the young single adults, were really young single teens and preteens.

My turn to give a date with an unexpected twist.

We stood there awkwardly at the door, Stephen whispered to me with a joking tone "I feel like it is borderline illegal for me to be here." He was 21. I sheepishly asked if he would like to go do something else or if he would rather just go home.

To my relief he asked what there was to do around my neighborhood and we decided to go bowling. After a few games, we were getting along well enough that we wanted to continue the date. We got into his jeep and took a drive up Millcreek Canyon. We drove and talked for more than an hour. Once we had gone all the way up the canyon and back, we wanted to keep talking. The sun was setting, I told Stephen about a park that had a path that we could walk around continue our conversation.

We walked around the park, I would purposefully brush my hand against his to hint at him to hold it. After looping around around the park twice and my hand still not held, I decided that maybe he just did not want to hold my hand.

I asked him if he wanted star gaze before going home. We lay in the grass, our hands inching closer. Soon our hands were touching though he still would not interlock his fingers with mine. Finally I did it. I grabbed his hand. I assumed he was fine with it, he did not flinch.

We lay, hand in hand, looking at the stars. Earlier we had heard a group of troublemakers wandering around the park and they seemed to be getting closer. We did our best to ignore them until one boy broke from the group, ran up to us, and lay down beside us.

"Hey, how are you guys doing?" He asked
"Oh just dandy, ya know, just stargazing." I answered, trying to make light of the situation.
"Awesome, what star are you looking at?"
"Uhm... all of them?" Stephen joked.
"What is your favorite star?" I asked the stranger.
"Jupiter."

As we lay in the grass and chatted with the stranger, I jokingly asked if he would like to hold my other hand. The boy grabbed it.

I had not expected him to actually hold my hand, but he didn't seem like a creepy guy so I just brushed it off and the three of us lay there, hand in hand. The boy called his friends to join us and suddenly there were seven people laying, hand in hand, in the grass, watching the stars. We all started to introduce ourselves.

Names were thrown out in the dark and we could not place names to faces. Stephen introduced himself and said "This is my date, Emma."

Suddenly, the boy holding my other hand said "Wait... Emma Cundick?"
"Yes....?" I answered in slight disbelief.
"It's me! Michael!"

The boy was someone I had gone to school with from Elementary to High School. We all laughed at the coincidence and briefly told each other about what had changed since we graduated.

The seven of us lay there for a few more minutes then Michael and his friends thanked us for humoring them and they left. We had sat up to wave goodbye and when we lay back down, Stephen grabbed my hand and held it. My heart fluttered.

We did not stay long after that. We got up, walked to his car, our fingers intertwined, and he took me home. As he pulled up to my house, I thanked him for the fun date and he thanked me for inviting him. I got out of the car, walked into my house and before I could tell my parents what a great time I had, my phone buzzed telling me there was a text.

I opened the text and saw Stephen had said "I really had a great time. Thank you! Goodnight Beautiful"

I burst into my parents room, singing "He likes me! He likes me! He likes me!" I told them every detail about the date. My hands held my face and I would break at random moments to say "He is so cute!"


My parent don't call each other pet names. They are not overly affectionate. Their love story is not the kind you read about in storybooks; Yet, all my life I wanted to be wanted in the way that my Dad wanted my Mom.

Stephen and I held hands on our second date and we have been holding hands ever since. On February 9, 2014, seven months after our first date, Stephen asked me to be his wife. On June 19, 2014 I gave myself to Stephen for time and all eternity in the Salt Lake Temple.

Stephen and I affectionately call each other pet names. We constantly hold hands and if you ask my Mom, we kiss at every opportunity. Our love story is not the kind that you read about in storybooks, but I found someone that looks as me the way my Dad looks at my Mom, and I couldn't ask for better than that.

Ever since I was little, I dreamed of being wanted. It took me many failed attempts at relationships to realize that love is much more that just being wanted. Love is not about finding the person you want to spend forever with at 15 years old. It is not about feeling alone and wanting someone to hold you. Once I stopped trying to find it, true love found me.