11 hours ago
10
As I approached my mid 30s, a relationship I’d been in since I was 21 reached its natural conclusion. Becoming single was a revelation; it gave me such a sense of empowerment as I was undergoing a big career change from teaching to social work.
It was during my final placement in 2024 that I met Mill and was immediately curious about them. The working environment they created was really beautiful and safe, and they had this unusual balance of reserve and openness.
We’d have these great chats on Teams, that often veered into something that felt like a real friendship, but Mill was my manager and we were both trying to keep things professional.
The potential power imbalance was somewhat mitigated by the fact that I’m actually a few years older, and once my placement was over it was me who made the first move. I asked Mill out to a gig in the work chat and the question hung in the air for weeks.
At the last minute, they took me up on the invitation and we shared the quintessential queer experience of neither of us being sure if we were on a date or not.
We didn’t really listen to any of the music that night; we couldn’t stop chatting. It was over the course of that evening that I realised Mill wasn’t nearly as serious as I’d thought. They have a great sense of humour and we learned we shared more in common than we realised. We’d both lived through our wild ratbag phases and were leading more wholesome lives, and knowing we shared that balance was really attractive.
Not long after the gig, Mill went out on a limb and sent me a text sharing their feelings for me. A few weeks later we went on our first official date. We went to a soju bar for a nightcap after a comedy gig and took a long walk along the Birrarung before sharing our first kiss in front of an audience of garbage collectors as they emptied bins in the decidedly unromantic setting of a desolate Fed Square in Melbourne.
I’d long wondered whether I was queer, and my previous forays, while meaningful and positive, hadn’t confirmed anything for me. I was really conscious of not wasting people’s time or messing them around while I figured myself out, but with Mill things were different. The attraction was immense, but there was also a deep sense of safety and calmness I felt around them. As we spent more time together outside work, I began to see the full form of this person. Their beauty and generosity of spirit runs so deep. Over the next few months we became a couple.
Mill is always thinking of others. If you visit their house, they’ll make you a snack pack when you leave and they love to celebrate other’s achievements.
As the year came to an end and my social work studies were complete, it was time to decide if I’d continue paying fees to remain a registered teacher or let it lapse. It felt like a huge deal for me to close the door on teaching but I made the call and I was really excited to get the letter that confirmed it was official.
When it arrived, Mill showed up at my front door with a homemade carrot cake decorated with the words “Happy Deregistration”.
I already knew what a good sort Mill was, but in that moment it really became clear that I was with a profoundly kind human being; someone who noticed little details, cared about what was going on for me and was on my team.
Even though the cake was about a bureaucratic detail, more than that it was the celebration of a new chapter, a deepening of my conviction in the life I wanted.
As a younger person I always felt compelled to keep as many doors open as possible, but you can’t be all things to all people. It’s been a huge relief to shake off any lingering shackles of social expectations and my own indecisiveness. To be with someone with whom you share such a sense of being known and cherished, and really belonging, is so rare and so liberating. Being with Mill feels like the opposite of loneliness.
