Knocking Down Pins and Walls: How I Met Dan

The Bowling Alley Plot Twist: Meeting Dan and the "MS" Ultimatum

After everything I had been through, I had officially retired from the dating game. I wasn't looking for "The One"; I was looking for a local bowling meetup where I could knock down some pins and meet people my own age.

Enter Dan.

While he’ll tell you he knew I was the one from the moment we met, I was a lot more guarded. My heart was behind a fortress I had spent years building. But slowly, he started to grow on me.

At the end of our first time hanging out outside of the bowling alley, he dropped a bombshell. He looked at me and said: "I like you, and I have MS. Do what you want with that, and let me know if you want to date me." Then, he just left.

Doing the Homework

Talk about being thrown for a loop. At that point, "MS" was just a name I’d heard before; I had no idea what it actually meant for a life together. So, I went home and I did my research. I came back to him with a list of questions: What type do you have? Is it hereditary? What do your relapses look like?

He had been diagnosed at 25 and had a great neurologist. For him, MS mostly shows up as ocular issues—affecting his vision and balance. But Dan is stubborn; he refused to let his diagnosis sideline him from the life we were starting to build. I decided that he was worth the "uncertainty," and I said yes.

A New Kind of Conflict

Life with Dan isn't "perfect," but it’s lightyears away from the nightmare of my past. We agree on about 90% of everything. We still argue—everyone does—but compared to my ex, a "fight" with Dan feels like a mad kitten.

The biggest difference isn't just him; it’s me. I’ve found my feet. I have the confidence to stand my ground and the wisdom to walk away when things get heated so we can resolve them like adults later. He has never raised a hand to me, and he supports the career I’ve worked so hard to build, and he is a good dad doing the little goofy things to just see these kids smile.

The Hurdles of the Mind

If I’m being honest, the hardest hurdle we face today is his memory. MS can be a thief, and it often steals bits of our conversations. It can be incredibly frustrating when he forgets a meeting, claims I never said something I did, or misremembers an event entirely.

I’ve had to learn the "Art of the Workaround." I’ve become a master of:

• The Paper Trail: Sending info via text so there’s a record.

• The Shared Calendar: Inviting his email to every single event so his phone reminds him.

• Forgiveness: Reminding myself that it’s the disease talking, not the man.

The "Sarcastic" Edge

The only other downside is the MS "filter"—or lack thereof. Sometimes Dan gets sarcastic and snippy with the world. In his head, he’s just "not sugar-coating things" or "i'm just being honest." In reality, it can come off as rude or ill-timed. I’ve had to learn to be the one to say, "You're being an ass right now, please stop," even when he doesn't see it. The good things is for the most part he knows to listen to me or when I make the mom face that says to shut up, he listens.

The Big Picture

Through the memory lapses and the snippy comments, we have a blast. We are partners. We are a team. Choosing to date a man with a chronic illness was a leap of faith, but it taught me that a "perfect" life isn't the goal—a safe and honest one is.

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Closing Thought: Going from a relationship defined by fear to a relationship defined by a medical diagnosis is a strange transition. One was a choice made by a predator; the other is a challenge we face together as a family.

Have you ever had to learn a "new language" for a partner—whether it’s navigating a health issue or learning how to argue healthily after trauma? How do you keep the "fun" alive when the hurdles get high?