‘I never thought I’d end up with a man who won’t call himself a feminist’: And yet…

I teach him about reality TV; he teaches me about stamp duty.

Rosie Waterland

When I was hospitalised, I ordered this ridiculous T-shirt featuring two cats doing the “I’m flying, Jack!” from Titanic. He drove an hour to the hospital to hand-deliver it, even though he probably found it highly undignified.

I thought I’d end up with a comedian my age in skinny jeans and a hoodie, but I’ve dated them all. Caleb is more of a man than any of them.

Caleb: When Rosie first contacted me, I was copping shit for my column, people saying I was a virgin, that kind of crap. It came from people she’d admired. She messaged saying, “I don’t always agree with you, but you’re a great writer. Keep going.”

We met in person three years later when she visited Adelaide to discuss a work project. I thought, “You’re hot” – I have a thing for older women. We found ourselves in a hotel room and didn’t leave for five days. We just clicked. By the end of the week, we were a couple.

Months later, in March 2020, I drove from Adelaide to Sydney to visit her. As soon as I’d driven over the border, it was closed because of COVID: I had no option but to move in with her.

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If you want to work out whether you work as a couple, being thrown together literally 24/7 for three months will tell you. You see all the foibles and annoying things you’d normally discover after maybe a year. At the end, we said, “Well, if we can do that, we can probably survive anything!”

I don’t like being told I’m wrong, which Rosie does, sometimes, like any good girlfriend. We’re both headstrong. Butting heads can make you better people: it makes you think about things you might not have otherwise. It’s surprising how often we land in the same ballpark, though the road we take may differ. Not sure who that disturbs more: her or me.

My ideal partner has always been someone you can leave on the other side of a room at an event so they’re not hanging off you. I’m a reasonably independent person; Rosie’s the same.

I like having someone around, so it was difficult when she was hospitalised. I probably slipped into depression myself, to be perfectly honest; I had days when I didn’t want to get out of bed. Of course I supported her. If you love someone, you want them to be better.

She picks up on feelings to a hyper extent. I can be curmudgeonly, especially with bad drivers. It makes her anxious, though, which makes me rein myself in. She’s mellowing me.

One Friday, we were out with workmates and saw some homeless people. Next thing, Rosie’s gone. I texted her, saying which pub we went to. She comes back and her wallet’s $200 lighter. She’d bought them all Maccas. That’s the kind of person she is. If your partner isn’t making you a better person, you’re in the wrong relationship.

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