.I Messaged Him First — And I’m So Glad I Did

I’m not sure what came over me that day. Maybe it was that quiet Saturday, the breeze moving the curtains, and the familiar question circling in my mind: Is loneliness now just part of who I am? Or maybe I was simply tired of waiting. I was browsing profiles on justfories.com, like I sometimes did out of curiosity. And then — his photo.

Liam. Calm eyes. A slightly shy smile. A profile description free of embellishments, but with something honest between the lines. I read his words again. And then I decided: I’m going to write to him. I won’t wait to see if he ever messages me. I’ll take the risk. And I’m so glad I did.

My message was short, maybe a little uncertain. But it came from the heart. I wrote that I liked the same books, that I also took long walks with my dog, and that something about the way he wrote felt warm. A quiet voice in my head whispered: Expect nothing — but don’t be afraid to hope.

He replied that same evening.

That was the beginning of something unlike any connection I’d had before. Our conversations weren’t rushed or shallow. They were… real. We wrote to each other in the evenings, sometimes early mornings. We talked about books, the music of our youth, about how silence feels after a stormy day. We shared bits of our lives — what shaped us and what still hurt.

We talked about loss. About mistakes. About how life after forty carries a different kind of depth. We didn’t romanticize the past or pretend everything was perfect. But there was something soothing in those exchanges — like holding a cup of tea on a winter day, like a warm blanket over your shoulders.

Liam had a calmness in him that slowly began to grow in me, too. He asked, he listened. And for the first time in ages, I didn’t feel the need to explain myself. I felt seen.

After a few weeks, he suggested we meet. A quiet café with soft music, where time seemed to slow down. I remember how nervous I was — that reality might not live up to the emotions that had bloomed online. But the moment I saw his smile, the way he looked at me — I knew. He was the same person. Maybe even more beautiful in real life — because he was real.

That day, we didn’t write. We talked — slowly, with pauses, with smiles. And though we both carried our own baggage, in that moment, it didn’t matter. It was a new beginning.

I went home that day with a quiet certainty that something in me had shifted. It wasn’t just about him. It was about me. That I had the courage. That I stepped out of the safe silence and made the first move.

Today, when we sometimes revisit that first message, Liam smiles and says, 

-“I was waiting for it. But I don’t think I would’ve had the courage myself.”

And I think — maybe it’s time we say it out loud: that a woman over forty, with her history, her tears, and her hopes, can still be the one who starts something. Who doesn’t wait for a miracle — but helps create it.

Because one message really can change everything. And truly — I’m so glad I sent it.