How I Met Your Mother
For some, love and life is an American sitcom filled with jokes and joy, but for an unusual couple like us it’s been a good ol’ fashioned British drama filled with trials and tribulations. But, how was that first meeting? Was it love at first sight? What of the courting and bedazzling that came to pass between these two single souls living in London?
Everybody enjoys a good love story. At a dinner party meeting new friends people always ask ‘so how did you two meet’? What’s not to love? The intrigue, the curiosity, the excitement, the storytelling, the nostalgia and fuzzy feeling of it all – it’s exhilarating to say the least.
In describing how my husband and I met I like to imagine him retelling the story to our children one day. Granted, we may be a childless couple for the rest of our lives due to circumstance and happenstance around life long health issues. But, what if we ever adopt and he gets to sit by the bedside of our wonderful little boy or girl? I would like to think he had a bloody fabulous story to tell our child filled with wonder and love!
I interviewed my husband and this is the way he is retelling the story of ‘When I Met Your Mother’ and – just like the sit com – I hope he would be able to do it with a slight tinge of comic delight.
‘It just so happened we were both very clever and were doing the same Master’s degree (at Cass Business School) together. We possibly passed each other in the corridors without knowing. How could we not have met the whole year? Especially considering we had common friends. I think we were both too busy with our studies to pay attention’. At this point, I know that ‘daddy’ excluded the details that I was ‘too busy’ dating a French boy back then and spent most my time travelling to Paris on weekends, or spending time in rock joins in Camden town. Meanwhile, my husband was ‘too busy’ dating a French girl and spent most of his time in Greek social circles partying in the posh Farringdon bars. You see he had just landed in the UK for his studies. And we partied in totally different circles. Well at least we had the French in common right?
‘You see, Cass Business School was the beginning of a new era for us. A place we networked with socially connected people from all over the world. Everyone had an interesting life. And so, I connected with your mother on Facebook. In fact, she had been on my Facebook for 6 years before I met her’. In truth, my husband had been ‘stalking’ me on Facebook for a couple of years. He had separated from his French girl at the same time I separated from my French boy. How fitting. I had been partying hard going to Vampire Nights, Gothic Clubs and Metal joints. I would say that I dressed provocatively which prompted the ‘social stalking’ - In a nice way! - after I would post pictures on social media with me and my girls having a blast.
‘I was a very shy young man. I would see your mother going out with her friends a lot, posting pictures on Facebook and thought to myself that I like this lady! But how could I ever talk to her?’. Luckily, my husband had the brains not to contact me out of the blue on Facebook, because had he done so I would have thought he is a desperate weirdo trying to use social media to catch a girl. I would have surely brushed him off. It turns out that, while going to the gym regularly with his best friend at the time – whom I also had on my Facebook as he was a network from Cass too – he got excited enough about the prospect of ‘stalking’ me that he mentioned me to him.
During that time, after partying hard for a couple of years, I started growing an emotional and social need to reconnect with people in my culture. I am originally Greek Cypriot and didn’t have any Greek networks. What better way to connect than on Facebook right? So, when my husband’s best friend contacted me via messenger, rather than shove him off to oblivion, I decided it would be a good idea to meet. He was polite enough let’s just say. Naively, I saw this as an opportunity to network with his friends and grow my circle of Greek contacts. That way, one day, when I would be lonesome… I could settle with a ‘nice young Greek boy’, as mother would so often say.
Through, what I would call, fate, it just so happened we never met with his best friend. He couldn’t make it, I couldn’t make it, we both were just too busy. Would I ever make friends with Greek people from my home, my culture, my background?
‘One day there was a City University Annual Reunion and Uncle Jag (our common friend from university!) asked your daddy to come with him. We went along with other friends too. When I entered the hall, there was your mother. Red lipstick and a red top. She was beautiful! Needless to say all of my friends liked your mother a lot too. I had some competition there! But, it turned out also she was there to meet your Uncle Jag and the others – because my friends were her friends too. How could we have common friends and never meet, right? After the event Uncle Jag proposed we all go for a drink to chat and get to know each other’. We had gone to a local pub now called the Dame Alice Owen, where we all drank and danced the night away. As it turns out, my husband did have some competition in an all-male group and had to figure out a way to stand out from the crowd.
‘I stood next to your mother and to court her I ordered her a drink and brought it to her table – like a gentleman. I stood tall and handsome, and with my deep and attractive voice asked her questions and paid every attention to your mother to make her feel special’. The reality of the matter is that I was busy speaking with our friend Jag – still our best friend to this day whom we miss due to the pandemic – and he interrupted asking me if I wanted a drink. He kept asking questions which I felt quite intrusive and annoying. Though, he seemed like a polite young Greek boy so I obliged in sharing a drink with him. When he came over with my drink he puffed up his belly like a Robin from a Christmas card flaunting it’s red-chested feathers to attract a mate. That was the point he did catch my attention and I giggled thinking ‘he has such an adorable belly, like a big bear!’. Years later I found out he was breathing in deeply to try and hide it – clearly.
And as our little one would feel the snooze coming on daddy would finish with: ‘Your mummy always loved daddy’s big belly’, and he would tap it like a jolly Santa as our little one would climb into his big bear hug.
Written by Maria Nicolette
Hi! I’m Maria Nicolette and this is my husband Kostas.
This is the love story of how two alumni from Cass Business School met. And are now married!
I’m a PR communications and Digital Marketing Specialist. I volunteer for The Children’s Trust, Enhance the UK, Ignite Hubs, and Camden Art Centre where I practice my skills in content writing, editing and copywriting, social media, PR planning, drafting press releases, and several other exciting direct marketing techniques.
I am a superb storyteller and a diehard digital marketer!
I am an activist and ambassador for disability inclusion and female empowerment. I also love supporting kids and young people.
Recipes
