There’s something about loyalty that is incredibly sexy.

Loyalty is almost everything. It encapsulates honesty, openness, friendship, faithfulness, trust, maturity. All of those good and delicious traits our human hearts blindly seek.

Now that I’m getting on a bit, and as Emmy so delightfully points out, “why are your eyes so cracked?” I can’t help but look back on how much my tastes have evolved over the many, many, many years. Characteristics that used to seem so appealing are now so obsolete bordering on worthless. Things that I would have once overlooked are now of the most importance to me and my tiny family. It’s fair to say my palette has been somewhat refined through the ages and I’m starting to feel a little bit like an actual grown up.

Word for the wise: I’m not actually that old (teetering on the cusp of the Dirty Thirties) but it is cold, I didn’t get much sleep last night due to binge watching The Blacklist, I haven’t admitted defeat and purchased slippers yet so my toes feel almost crunchy, and because I have spent hours of today at my laptop my hips are a little achey. Don’t judge.

So this is it. This is (almost) 30 for me. And this is what makes the cut for us now.

My beautiful baby girl is my absolute everything. I don’t expect anyone to love her as much as I do, it’s simply impossible. I don’t expect everyone to notice every adorable little joke she makes, and the way her eyes turn the most brilliant shade of golden in the late Autumn sun. I don’t believe that anyone but me will ever know that sometimes she’s not fine, even though she defiantly pouts that she is. That’s my job. That’s my honour. But she is not a package deal. She is not someone who you have to learn to accept just because you want to be with me. She is not someone who you can be friendly with and tolerate just because she is mine. She is amazing, and interesting, and lovable in her own right, and she deserves to be treated like she is. Get down to her level, and bring her up to yours. Find the magic in her inquisitive little eyes, and in her zest for life. Let her show you why my heart is so taken by her, and then watch what happens to yours. And to mine.

We cannot be bought. We have worked incredibly hard to build our life together, all on our own, and we can provide for ourselves. We have traveled our beautiful country countless times, stayed in backpackers and in campervans, hotels on occasion, and friends couches. We have eaten well, and we are warm, comfy and happy. We’ve worked for the nice things we have, and we plan on working for all of the things and places that we want. Your money doesn’t impress us, or make us love you more. Sometimes we’ve had no money and we were still perfectly lovable. Money has no relevance to how we feel about people.

Want to really impress me? Show me that you know the value of a dollar. Don’t splash it around like a disposable commodity. I don’t need to see how you spend it. I don’t need to see it gift wrapped, or wasted. Invest it. Show me that you can make wise decisions. Pour it into something you love that actually means something. Help people with less than you. Be kind and gracious, but not wasteful. Never wasteful. There’s something about the way a man spends his money that says a lot about him. I like a wise owl. Someone as unimpressed by flash as we are.

Whatever you do, I really hope it’s something that you love. It might have taken a little while but now that I am working doing something that I absolutely love, I cannot believe how much happier I am. I look back on days that I used to be posh, and work in a fancy glass office overlooking the water, wearing shoes that were almost life-threateningly high, and sucky-inney underwear that went all the way up to my shoulders. I thought I loved it and my home life suffered for it. If it was meant to be, my whole life would have worked a lot better. So I want to see you pouring yourself into something you love, so that every time I see you, or when you come home to us you have work stories that make your eyes light up.

We need to roam. Just Emmy and me. It has always been just the two of us, and in our heads and in our hearts, it kind of always will be. There’s room for someone else in there, but we need room too. Even when we stay for weeks at a time with our very best friends, we still need time out just for us. Sometimes we don’t do much. A quiet nap together, with giggles and made up stories. Or a day out at the beach writing our names in the sand, rubbing the sand out of our eyes, and building castles made of sand. Our matching gypsy spirits just need to roam, and sometimes it’ll just be the two of us. If you’re ok with that, then we’re ok with that.

Our love thrives on positivity, and possibilities, and goodness. We have had more than our fair share of bad situations, some of which were unavoidable, some of which we were unexpectedly dragged into, and we really just want to live in our little beach house, write all night, laugh all day, and focus on everything that is good. We need someone who is positive, positive, positive. Not a bullshitter who sugar coats everything. Or someone who is constantly happy because they have no idea what grown up life actually is. Just someone prepared to see the good in everything, even when we can’t. Someone who is prepared to have bad days, and still believe that everything is going to work out.

Maturity. Do you know how underrated this is? Sometimes life is tough. Fact! Unavoidable fact. Things we don’t want to talk about are going to come up, things we don’t want to deal with will possibly haunt our calm waters, and sometimes my cramps caused by ovaries that are trying to kill me are going to turn me into the most miserable bag of bitches you have ever met. You have to deal with it. Stick around for the conversations we’d both rather not have, be honest and real without being hurtful, and sometimes maybe heat me up a wheatbag. I can do this myself, and I’ll possibly mock you with fake whipping sounds if you ever actually do this, but every now and then I’ll humour you and smile.

Be intelligent. Not NASA level intelligence. Especially not politics level intelligence. But know SOMETHING. Something that you can teach us about. Something that you can talk to other grown ups about while we’re in the McDonalds playground surrounded by screeching children and the sound of greasy fries hitting the walls. Know about things. Travel, our country, the attack on Pearl Harbour. Have something more to talk about that people or things. Be interested in the things we know too. Like endless LOTR trivia, childcare subsidies, and how many times I need to include my SEO phrase into each page of web content.

Enjoy rugby. Play it. Watch it. Please don’t wear a rugby jersey as clothes unless you are actually in the team though. But I need to know that at 5mins to kick off you’ll be right there next to Emmy & me with a cold one in hand and a bad attitude towards Justin Marshall’s commentary.

Someone with an amazing relationship with their mumma? (Insert love heart eyes emoji here). I’m a mum. I have a child. In 20 or 30 or 50yrs I want Emmy and I to still have an incredible bond, built on decades of love, trust, and good honest friendship. Anyone that has managed to do that with his mum? Tiiiiiiiick. You win the whole internet. All of the things. Party trumpets and confetti. You’re the winner. This shows respect, a caring nature, and the maturity to still love the woman who flicked your hand away from your nose countless times and scolded you for eating boogers. I’m talking about me and Em. I hope you don’t eat boogers. She definitely does, we’re working on it.

Lastly?

Be ready to be really cared for. We’ve got this bit covered.

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