Vincent and Matthew
Matthew (he/him) and I (they/them) met in the Summer of 2024. I had been resolute about not meeting someone through online dating, but Matthew proved to me that special connections are bound by circumstances greater than our expectations. He brought me to an Emmylou Harris concert, and we agreed to just be friends—I had recently gone through a tough breakup and wasn’t ready for anything new.
For a few weeks, we stayed in that space of friendship, but Matthew soon realized that wasn’t enough for him. We decided we would take a break from each other to sort things out on our own. A few days later, my world shifted—my ex-partner passed away, and Matthew, without hesitation, was there to support me through some of the darkest months of my life.
Despite the heavy emotions, something shifted between us. Slowly, and with a lot of care, I realized that I was developing feelings for Matthew, too. It wasn’t until a cold November day in City Park, wrapped in the quiet of the frozen water, that I gathered the courage to confess that I was also battling these feelings. That moment marked the beginning of our relationship.
One of the things I cherish most about being with Matthew is his ability to make me laugh, and how safe I feel exploring who I am with him. There’s a calm in knowing I can just be—and we can grow together on the same team as individuals.
Queer love, to me, is liberation. It's the freedom to break away from norms that try to box us into limited versions of who we can be. It’s the joy of embracing imperfection and celebrating the messy beauty of life.
Right now, being in a queer couple feels like the only thing that grounds me in reality. In a time where bigotry is rampant and the desire for control feels endless, our relationship is our act of defiance. It’s a reminder that true liberation lies in the security of knowing we are free to define ourselves—no one else gets to decide who we are or how we love.