For now, the eternity ring is perfect. Simple gold, withOKengraved on the inside of the band as a tribute to our choice to stay together. She wears it on a thin chain around her neck when we’re in places where jewellery attracts attention. When she thinks I’m not looking, she touches it with her thumb.
One day - maybe two years from now, maybe twenty - I’ll ask again. It has nothing to do with legality. Just because she’s the only person I’ve ever wanted to stand beside and loudly, publicly declare:This is the human who turned my life technicolour.
There are days I still struggle. When there’s noise, or crowds, or change that’stoosudden, even for me now. But Tippi builds me havens everywhere we land: quiet corners of bustling markets, headphones on long flights, evenings where we don't speak at all because our brains are full and that's utterly fine.
AndI’veopenedherworld too. She says I’m the anchor she didn’t know she needed; that she never knew security could feel like space rather than confinement.
In effect, she gave me freedom; I gave her steadiness.
Together, we’ve made a life that feels like breathing clean air after a lifetime underwater.
“Hey,” she says, pausing her editing and looking back at me, mischief curling her lips. “We’re due to pick a new destination. Your turn to choose, Bird Boy.”
Bird Boy.I swear I’ll never live down that TikTok live.
I smile back. “I’ve already chosen.”
“Oh?” She leans in, eyes dancing. “Where to?”
I answer the way she taught me: with joy and zero hesitation. “Wherever you are.”
Her grin softens into something that feels like sunrise. She leans across the table and kisses me like I’m home.
Because I am. Home is not a place; it’sher.
And wherever she is, I always will be.
Tippi
I never thought I’d settle down.
Correction: Ihaven’tsettled down. Not even slightly.
But I’ve figured out how to bring someone I love into the chaos of my life without sacrificing a single inch of the freedom I need like oxygen.
And the fact that someone is Jacob Stewart still surprises me sometimes. Not because I didn’t want him, but because I never thought I’dletmyself have someone like him.
The sun is setting over the lantern-lit streets below as I close my laptop. My latest documentary-style segment is uploading. Thankgoodness, my new job is everything I used to dream about when I said, “If only they’d let me talk about sex and culture and humanity without toning it down for tea-time viewers.”
My agent delivered.
I film around the world. We travel constantly. The networklovesthe rawness, the humour, the sex-positivity, andthe Tippi Mills Chaos Factor™.
And the best part?
Jacob is in every episode in some tiny, subtle way: his hand passing me a mic, or his blurred shoulders in the background, or my voice saying ‘You OK?” and his soft “Yes” in reply.
He’s become part of the scenery of my life. An essential part, alwaysthere, in the best possible way.
We’ve been on the road together for eight months now. Eight months of airport lounges, midnight markets, slow kisses in unfamiliar beds, and sex so good I’ve nearly cried from it more than once. (Thank goodness, he knows how to handle that now. Beautifully.)
We’re never anywhere longer than seven days.
On day six, he gently reminds me we need to pack soon.
On day seven, he turns to me with that tiny crooked smile and says, “Ready when you are.” He doesn’t cage me, or try to fix me. He simply lets me be the chaos tornado I am, and stands in the storm with an umbrella and a laminated weather contingency plan.
AndIlethimhave his noise-canceling headphones, his weekly video calls with his niece and his sister, his carefully arranged “Jacob Time” every morning. We’ve also found he does better ifhe can have fifteen minutes just after lunch alone, resitting and doing breathing exercises while listening to rain sounds on YouTube. Now I do it myself as well, separately. The world can be chaotic without overwhelming him, because we build our own version of stability everywhere we go.
