At the restaurant where I was working part-time, I met a New Zealander chef named George.
He had a loud voice and was always surrounded by people, but for some reason, he gave off this quiet, gentle vibe—like deep down, he was actually a calm soul.
And he’s the one who, quite effortlessly, ended up changing the course of my life.
At first, he was just “that chef I happened to work with once a week.”
He didn’t try to force me into any of the groups that already existed there, and honestly, he didn’t seem to belong to any group himself.
Still, everyone liked him.
He was kind and fair to everyone.
When the dinner rush was over, he’d casually start a conversation like,
“Today was super busy, huh?” or
“What should I make for staff meal?”
We’d chat about all kinds of random things.
And even though my English was still rough, he always listened with a smile—always.
Looking back now, he had always been that way.
But at the time… I had zero idea that his kindness might’ve had a deeper meaning.
I seriously didn’t notice. For three whole months.
George, I’m so sorry. 😂
To be fair, I hadn’t been in love for about five years, and because of some things that happened, I had sort of shut my heart off from love altogether.
I honestly thought I’d never fall in love again—or be loved by anyone.
So when he was being kind, it never even crossed my mind that he might be interested in me.
But then, three weeks before I was due to go back to Japan, George suddenly asked me out on a date.
And still, I didn’t get it!
I was like, “Wait… is this just lunch between coworkers??” 😅
But as we went on more dates whenever we could find time, I found myself falling for him too.
And then—just three days after we officially became a couple—we were already in a long-distance relationship.
An international one.
At first, it was incredibly hard.
I wanted to laugh with him.
I wanted him beside me when my mind was full of worries.
But he wasn’t there.
There was the time difference.
He was busy with work.
Even on days when all I wanted was to hear his voice, we sometimes couldn’t talk.
As those days went on, I started thinking…
“I can’t do this forever—waiting for the next time we can meet.”
“If my visa had been extended, I probably would’ve stayed in NZ.”
“If I can be in a country I love, with someone I love, I’d do anything.”
So, I made the decision—on my own—to move to New Zealand.
Not just move, but stay.
Permanently.
Actually, before I even met George,
I had already felt something deep down.
During the first month or two I spent in Auckland, everything was still new and unfamiliar, and I often felt overwhelmed.
But there were these quiet moments when I thought:
“Maybe… this place feels like where I belong.”
At the time, it was just a vague feeling.
But that tiny thought, “maybe I can live here,” quietly took root inside me.
Then I met George.
We shared shifts, talked more and more, went on dates, and finally started dating.
And that tiny feeling grew into a clear conviction:
“I want to live here, with him.
In this country.
This is where my life should be.”
As for the details of our dates…
Well, George reads this blog too, so I’ll have to ask his permission first. 😜
Maybe I’ll write about them bit by bit later.
Anyway, this wraps up the story of how I fell for NZ, fell for George, and decided to build a life here.
Next up, I’ll be sharing what happened after I made that decision—
the practical steps I took to make this dream real.
If you’re curious, I hope you’ll stick around and keep reading. 😊
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