Secret’s out!
InI love, we had somethings to tellt the world...
Watching the beautiful woman on the dance floor, I was mesmerised.
I’d known of Molly, then 21, for about six months – we were both professional dancers for stage and music videos, and moved in the same circles.
In September 2015, I got a chance to actually speak to her.
We’d gone to the same audition in London and, afterwards, a group of us went for drinks.
‘I’ve seen you around, you’re an amazing dancer,’ I said. We got on so well. Before we knew it, we were going on our first date.
Bonding over a coffee before a dance class together, my heart fluttered.
Within a few weeks, we were officially a couple.
I loved Molly’s confidence, how we shared the same passion for dance.
Going to auditions together, , dance classes, and sometimes working together, kept us close.
I’d dated both men and women in the past and I identified as bisexual.
‘It’s just a phase, you’ll grow out of it,’ my parents had said when I fell in love with a woman at 21.
I knew that they struggled to accept my sexuality.
Thankfully, five years later, when I met Molly, they’d grown to accept it. And they grew to love her, too. ‘Let’s not tell your grandparents, though,’ Mum said to me.
Not wanting to rock the boat, I agreed.
So Nan and Grandad thought that Molly and I were just close friends.
Thankfully, Molly’s family and friends were accepting of her sexuality.
When she’d come out to her parents at 18, she’d worried.
But they’d already guessed and weren’t upset.
After a year together, Molly surprised me with a question.
‘Shall we move in together?’ she a asked, grinning. I was thrilled. Then, last s summer, I saw a shout-out o on Instagram.
The food company M Mccain was looking fo for same-sex couples t to star in a new ad fo for its oven chips.
‘We’re perfect for it it,’ I told Molly – and she agreed, so I put us forward.
It wasn’t that long before the producers got in touch with us by e-mail.
We’d love to meet you, one of the casting team said.
We heard all about the idea for the ad, which would show love in all forms.
The idea was to celebrate coming together with the people we love. The producers came to our house for the first meeting.
And, when they showed us their previous advert embracing different families around the UK, we were sold. ‘I love it!’ Molly gasped. I have to admit, it brought a tear to my eye, too.
Before we knew it, we were booked to do the advert!
Last December, camera crews arrived at our house to
The ad would celebrate love – in all its forms
film our section of the ad.
‘Just act like you normally would,’ they said, setting up cameras and lights in our living room and kitchen. Yeah, right! I thought. It’s not every day you have a camera crew in your house.
But the team were lovely, and our nerves soon vanished.
Molly and I whipped up a dinner of oven chips and fajitas. We laughed, kissed and danced as we cooked.
Then we snuggled up on the sofa, watching TV. It felt so natural. Two months later, we were sitting on the sofa again – this time waiting to see our Mccain advert on telly! We’d told everyone to tune in. ‘It’s us!’ I cried as the ad flashed on our screen.
It showed other couples, too – of different ethnicities, genders, disabilities. We loved it! ‘They showed us dancing in the kitchen,’ Molly laughed.
‘My favourite part was us lying on the couch together,’ I grinned, delightedly. Just like we were doing now. Suddenly, our phones came alive with lovely y messages g
from friends and family. You two looked amazing,
one said to us. You’re famous, said another. But the best reactions were from our families. ‘Your grandparents are so proud, they thought the advert was beautiful,’ Mum gushed. It made me so happy, knowing that they finally knew about our relationship and that they were so thrilled for us. And Molly’s family were just as overwhelmed. ‘I cried!’ Molly’s Mum admitted to us. We really love the positive message that the advert has cooked up. That, no matter what your gender, age, ethnicity or sexual orientation… Love is love. And we shouldn’t be afraid to shout it from the rooftops. Or even from the telly!