One time, a friend of mine asked me if I wanted to go to Mexico with her for a week. She had another friend who owned land on a secluded beach and had built a beautiful home (man… what a kitchen, it was HUGE), and she turned it into a B&B by adding four cabanas, a pool, an outdoor kitchen, a lofted/open air patio and much, much more.
If the pictures weren’t tempting enough, the fact that lodging would be free made the decision a no-brainer. We planned the trip for the end of March – my birthday week. When the time approached to start packing our bags, the woman in Mexico asked if we would like to go whale watching while we were there. My friend had a “thing” for whales (who knew that was a thing?), so I agreed, despite a profound proclivity for sea-sickness.
We had a phenomenal time during the first few days; enjoying the sun, sand, fresh seafood and tropical drinks. My new acquaintance even hired a yoga instructor to come by to lead a sunset session, the evening before the whale watching trip.
Even though I’m heterosexual, I have to admit, the instructor was the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. She was from Brazil, petite with bronze, flawless skin, long black hair, perfect, white teeth and huge green eyes. In addition to her physical beauty she was funny and charismatic. Honestly, she seemed like a dream girl. (There’s a reason her appeal is a key component to the story. More on that soon.)
The morning of the whale watching, I over-slept. So, when it came time to leave, I had just enough time to brush my teeth, put my hair in a ponytail, and grab clothes that were on the top of the pile. No make-up (which makes a big difference with most blondes), 48 years old, 20 pounds overweight, and dressed like a bag lady; we made our way to the location.
It was a stunning morning and I’d remembered to bring my camera. So, I was snapping away at the line of boats ready to launch with eager passengers. The sky was indigo, the ocean was so calm it looked like turquoise glass, and there was an energy to the sun that felt like… love. Weird, I know.
I mindlessly boarded the boat, looking at my camera, took a seat and then I heard… him. His English accent coupled with a deep, resonant tone woke up a part of me that I hadn’t acknowledged in years. Desire.
I looked up and saw him smiling at me and the strangest thing happened, I found myself asking, “Where have you been?” Like I’d known him in many lifetimes – from the time our souls were created. I would later discover the term, “Twin Flame,” which goes WAY beyond soulmate. He was, and would always be the other half of me.
Everyone and everything else just disappeared in that moment. It was just him and me.
You remember that beautiful yoga instructor? She sat right next to me on the boat, and if she’d stripped naked, I don’t think he would have noticed her. I’m not being self-deprecating when I say I looked like sh*t; I don’t remember feeling so disheveled in private, much less in public… on the day I meet THE ONE. But, he didn’t seem to notice.
We stayed out two hours longer than scheduled that day, and when we docked, he hugged all of my friends; saving me for last. When he came in to hug me he looked at me as if asking permission and… we kissed. KAPOW! Never felt anything like that in my life.
As I was walking away, I joined my friends and said, “Did you see that?!” My closest friend responded, “What, the kiss or the palpable connection you guys had all day?”
The woman who lived in Mexico had caught a Dorado that afternoon and said, “We should invite him over for dinner.”
He came. He stayed. I saw him every day for the rest of the week and… we were married the following February.
