Everyone in my life thought moving for a 7-month relationship was reckless. They were right, but it was worth it.

• My friends and family thought I was making a mistake when I moved states for a new relationship.
• At first, I felt homesick, but my partner supported me in a way that validated my decision.
• Now, we're married with kids, and I'm so glad I took a risk on love.

When I was 21, I fell in love for the first time.

Tim and I met online before it was cool. An avid fisherman, sports fanatic, and gifted salesman, he wasn't my usual type — but he was charming, funny, awkward, and sweet. I fell for him, hook, line, and sinker.

There was only one problem. Tim lived in Minneapolis, and I lived in Chicago.

We made long-distance work for as long as we could. On the rare weekends I wasn't waitressing, I traveled to Minnesota for ice fishing and bar hopping. When Tim's schedule allowed, he visited me at my parents' house for family dinners and nights out with friends.

Our time together was fun and exciting, but after seven months of constant travel, we knew we had some decisions to make.

When Tim and I decided to take the next step, I moved to Minnesota

After a four-year collegiate stint in Michigan, I'd sworn to myself that I'd never leave Chicago again. Not only were my family and friends there, but it was comforting and familiar. It was home.

Tim understood my love for Chicago from the moment we met. He was early in his dream career as a salesman, and I hadn't yet decided what I wanted to do professionally. Even so, he reassured me that I would never have to move — that, instead, he would find a way to relocate for me.

The more reassuring he was, though, the more I began seriously considering moving to Minnesota. Logistically, it just made sense.

My family and friends were just as charmed by Tim as I was, but they were skeptical, too. They cautioned me against moving, reminding me that Tim and I hadn't known each other that long.

The more I thought about beginning a new chapter, though, the more right it felt. Whether or not Tim and I lasted, maybe an adventure was exactly what I needed to kick off the adult chapter of my life.

Despite their warnings, I began searching for a job in Minneapolis. When I found a new job and a new roommate in the same week, it felt like fate.

I struggled with homesickness at first, but Tim supported me

My life in Minnesota wasn't what I had imagined. Living away from home was difficult, and I was miserably homesick for weeks. I was also adjusting to life in my first apartment, along with a new, very demanding job.

I was thrilled to be closer to Tim, but the struggles I was experiencing overshadowed much of my joy. Despite these difficulties, Tim remained patient, sure of our relationship, even when my confidence wavered.

On Halloween, my family's favorite holiday, Tim dressed up as a giant piece of pizza to cheer me up. When the first snow fell that season, Tim was waiting in my new apartment with a Christmas tree in tow.

By the time Valentine's Day rolled around, bringing with it chocolate-covered strawberries and three dozen white roses (my favorite), most of my homesickness had faded.

I realized that Tim was my future, wherever we lived

After six months, I finally began to find my footing. My roommate and I developed a strong bond, and I began to branch out into new social circles.

I fell in love with Minnesota in the summertime. I even learned to fish! Turns out, Tim was an excellent teacher.

Tim was my constant, in good times and bad. As the months continued to pass, I began to realize that maybe, this wasn't just the beginning of a new chapter — maybe it was the beginning of forever.

One evening, eight months after I first arrived in Minnesota, Tim invited me out for a casual dinner. I accepted, thinking nothing of it, not even questioning the fact that he wanted us to explore an antique store 15 minutes before our reservation.

I was sifting through a pile of old postcards when I realized that Tim was nowhere to be seen — until I rounded the corner and there he was, on bended knee, a tiny box in his outstretched hand.

We were married that December in Chicago. We spent another year in Minnesota after that, before returning to my hometown for good, putting down roots a few miles from my childhood home.

Thirteen years and six children later, I'm forever grateful that I ignored well-meaning warnings from my friends and family. I may have risked it all on love, but in the end, it was worth it.