Sometime during my 24th year of life, I became known as the “maybe” girl. My hallmark line was from a song by Jack Johnson, “It seems to me that maybe, pretty much always means no.”
My roommates and several of our friends loved to tease me about my inability to commit to anything. Movies with our friends upstairs? Game night at Dave's? Meeting up at Cafe Sabor? My response – Maybe. Maybe. And Maybe.
In my case, however, maybe didn't always mean, no. For me it really meant maybe. I guess I'm someone who likes to think through things. Spontaneity is not my forte.
So apparently, it was no surprise that when Trevor Budge, the new guy who was just starting to seem kind of extraordinary to me, showed up at Ro's birthday party inviting us all to Yellowstone for a weekend trip, my response, was, “Maybe.”
I remember well mulling over the decision in my head. There was something about Trevor, but I wasn't really sure how I felt about him. I had plenty going on as a second-year junior high teacher, and I just wasn't sure I could afford a weekend away...
So, I did what I always do with decisions small and big. I prayed. The answer came to my mind,How will you ever know about Trevor if you don't go?
I called him the following morning (the day of the trip), “I'm coming.” I told him.
Trevor would later tell me how surprised and excited he was when he got that phone call. This time, maybe had become a yes... And when he asked me to marry him two months later, I said, “Yes,” once again, this time, with no hesitations.