How Anthony Albanese found love with Jodie Haydon

It was a private union that blossomed during a “love bubble”. Now Anthony Albanese and Jodie Haydon are Australia’s most high-profile couple.

For the first few months, Jodie Haydon thought life was pretty normal – or as normal as it could be under Covid restrictions.

She had quietly begun dating prime minister-elect and then federal opposition leader Anthony Albanese in late 2019, and the pair spent lockdown getting to know each other away from public scrutiny.

They hung out together at home in Sydney, cooking, bingeing on TV shows like Ted Lasso and Mare of Easttown, and learning each other’s music tastes – anything on Triple J for him, The Who and Bruce Springsteen for her.

For Haydon, now 43, it was a chance to see whether this relationship, her first in years, was one she wanted to pursue.

Albanese, now 59, was also taking things slowly, still processing the sudden breakdown of his 30-year relationship (19 of those years married) with former NSW deputy premier Carmel Tebbutt, on January 1 that year.

“We were in a bit of a bubble,’’ Haydon says of those quiet few months in early 2020.

“It might be naive on my part but I think because we had that time together during Covid....we were going under the radar and I cherished that time and I think we needed that to build the foundation for a relationship.

“I probably in some respects went into it with a false sense of security that I was in a really normal relationship and it wasn’t until we were photographed that I realised, yeah, this is going to be very different.’’

In June 2020, with lockdowns and border closures lifting, Haydon and Albanese were photographed on a dinner date at China Doll restaurant at Woolloomooloo. The photos appeared a few days later in the Sunday Telegraph.

The relationship, previously known only to Haydon’s close friends and family, and some of Albanese’s Labor colleagues and confidantes, was suddenly public.

Haydon had never been in the newspaper before.

While they were comfortable with the story which later appeared, the whole experience was a confronting one for Haydon, who had to call her boss and tell her a story was about to appear about her relationship.

They also had to tell her parents that photographs were about to be published of the pair kissing at a restaurant.

“I’m actually a private person by nature,’’ Haydon says.

“I don’t think any ordinary person like me who has never had a public profile really knows how to prepare for that.

“But I had Anthony, who is really protective of me and reassuring, which I’m grateful for.’’

Haydon will not feature in Albanese’s election advertising. She is travelling with him occasionally but will not be campaigning. The pair have agreed – reluctantly – to conduct their first and only detailed interview together because they accept there is legitimate public interest in the alternative prime minister and his relationship. Haydon has previously given only a careful few words to a magazine.

She intends to stay out of politics as best she can and will not be commenting on policies or offering political critiques.

“Anthony is the one here who is running for political office, it’s not me,’’ she says.

“My job will be to focus on my day job and allow Anthony to focus on his.’’

‘I’M NOT GETTING AHEAD OF MYSELF’

Haydon has had a 20-year career in the superannuation industry, and recently started a new role advocating for women in the workplace. She has lived and worked in Sydney and Melbourne, has a strong network of friends and professional colleagues, and an independent, established identity of her own.

But now she is also the partner of Australia’s next prime minister, making her the equivalent of the US’s First Lady. So would she move with Albanese into Kirribilli, the prime ministerial harbourside mansion in Sydney, where Scott Morrison, his wife Jenny and two daughters currently reside? Take up residence in The Lodge, where the prime minister lives when in Canberra?

“I’m not getting ahead of myself when it comes to thinking about that,’’ she says.

“We are taking everything day by day. I haven’t really contemplated that at this point.’’

It is extremely rare in Australian politics for a new partner to arrive on the scene when a politician is at such a crucial point in their career. Typically, political partners have been around for years, and have been able to slowly adjust to the increased scrutiny as their partner climbed the ranks from back bench to the front bench.

There was no easing into for Haydon, who quickly learned her words and actions will now be viewed differently, and potentially weaponised in the heat of political battle.

It’s been a rapid adjustment, or acceleration, as she calls it.

“I think, with all relationships, there’s always an element of compromise,’’ she says.

“So I’m going through an adjustment of being single for a long time, to being in a relationship. And learning how to be considerate and to care for another person. And then there’s this other layer of complexity for us, which is being more cautious.

“But I think what I always go back to is: the reason I am in this relationship is because I love Anthony.

“I think because I have found someone I respect and get along with and admire and who is good company, you’ve got to take the good with the bad.’’

Jodie Haydon was born in 1978 in Bankstown, Sydney, to Pauline and Bill Haydon, who moved back to her mum’s old stomping ground on the Central Coast when she was six months old.

Both her parents were public school teachers and a young Haydon changed schools several times as her parents moved around the district teaching.

Her maternal grandmother and grandfather Claire and James “JJ’’ Hastings had also been teachers in the district, Claire at the local Catholic school and JJ becoming a principal at Erina High.

“When I was about seven years old my brother Patrick came along. So I spent the first seven years of my life pretty much as an only child,’’ she says.

She grew up at Avoca Beach, playing netball and hanging out at the beach. Her childhood friends are still her friends today.

Her parents were public education advocates and their daughter attended Woy Woy, Terrigal and Avoca primary schools.

She later went to Kincumber High School, then to Asquith Girls High School in Hornsby for years 9 and 10.

“It was the closest local state school for girls and that was really my decision at the time,’’ she says about the move to Asquith.

“I thought a change in school, in the environment, might be a good thing but the commute was a killer. I was up at 5.30 every morning and home at 6 every night so I quickly worked out it wasn’t worth it and it was just easier to go back to school that was closer to home and I had girlfriends nearby. In many ways that was an experiment about whether there would be better educational outcomes going to an all-girls school versus a co-ed school.’’

Asked if she saw results from that experiment, Haydon laughed and says “No, I don’t think I did.’’

She returned to Kincumber to finish years 11 and 12.

“When you grow up on the Central Coast and your parents know all the teachers at the school that you’re attending, there was no room to muck up or to misbehave.

“I was curious at school. I was also involved in extra-curricular activities, on the debating team, student council. But I was probably a student that never fully reached my potential; I was easily distracted in many ways. But I didn’t have a bad experience at school, I liked school and enjoyed it for the most part.

“My mum was one of nine kids... seven went on to be teachers so Christmas get-togethers on the Central Coast was a time for us to all sit around and talk about what had been happening at the local schools during the year.’’

Haydon gave up netball at 15 when she decided to join her friends and get a part-time job.

“Mum and Dad had always said if you want for anything, you’ve got to work for it,’’ she says.

“So I got a job working at the local fish and chip shop, which was probably quite quintessentially Australian. And then not long after that I got a job at what was called Grace Bros, which is now Myer, and that, to this day, is probably one of my favourite jobs.

“I worked in the music department selling videos and CDs. I kept that job for probably about four years, working at the local Erina Fair which is the big shopping mall on the Central Coast.’’

THE HAYDON FAMILY WERE ‘ALWAYS LABOR’

Haydon says the Central Coast will always be home for her.

Her parents are retired there and her grandmother still lives there.

“Claire is 93 now and she rings in to Triple M Central Coast, into their morning show,’’ Albanese says.

Haydon confirmed this, saying her grandmother had gone out during Covid to collect a Mitre 10 voucher she had won on a radio program.

“She’s hilarious. She’s on Facebook, she FaceTimes us, even though we might only see the top of her head. She’s the matriarch of our big extended family.

“The Central Coast is a really important part of my upbringing... in many ways it’s very much a part of my DNA.

“I really feel like it was a small town in many ways, everyone knew everybody and I still feel very connected to the coast.’’

The Haydon family votes Labor. Always has done.

“We would watch ABC news every night, Four Corners, the 7.30 Report. Politics was definitely dinner-table conversation,’’ Haydon recalled.

“I think my parents had always expressed to me that you have to be interested in politics if you care about education, you care about where you get health care, if you care about public transport, if you care about the planet, fairness, equality, you have to take an interest in politics.

“It was also conversation with our extended family, all of whom are Labor voters I have to say. I think we felt in many ways that Labor values aligned with our family values.’’

Haydon laughed recalling telling her grandmother that she was about to appear in the newspapers with Albanese.

“Look, my grandmother who is a lifelong Labor voter and was probably worried about her eldest granddaughter who’d never married and had no children, well I made up for it all in one go by ending up with the leader of the Labor Party. I’m forgiven! I’ve probably gone to number one in the ranking now out of her near 30 grandchildren,’’ she says.

Haydon votes Labor, has been a member of the ALP “on and off’’ since her 30s, but says she’s never been actively involved in the party.

“I have always been interested in politics but probably been more of a couch critic than anything. I’ve followed it, read newspapers, watched current affairs programs.’’

She also handed out how-to-vote cards on behalf of the union movement, which she was involved in through her work in superannuation.

Albanese finds it amusing that she would have handed out how-to-vote cards for him.

“It’s quite funny, before we even met.’’ he says.

THE START OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP

How Albanese and Haydon met has been well-reported – he was the keynote speaker at a national union conference at a hotel in Melbourne in late 2019. She was attending through her work as strategic partnerships manager of industry superannuation fund First State Super.

The MC introduced Albanese with a quick sledge about his support for the South Sydney Rabbitohs; and when Albanese referenced the social media hashtag “random Souths guy’’, Haydon yelled out “up the Rabbitohs.’’

Albanese later introduced himself to the only other Souths supporter in the room, and they went their separate ways.

However, in the way of modern romance, there were other connections – Albanese discovered Haydon was one of the people he already followed on Twitter. He tried to follow everyone from his electorate who followed him on all social media platforms. He discovered the connection when Haydon sent him a direct message (DM).

“I slid into his DMs,’’ Haydon admitted cheerfully, saying she pointed out some of their mutual interests and similarities, such as living in the same electorate and their support of South Sydney. Also, they were both single.

“He had a public profile and I didn’t, so I knew that we both followed the same footy team, we both had a love for the inner west and I think I said in that direct message ‘hey, we’re both single.’

“In some ways I think I said that...just more so that he would feel comfortable in my company.’’

The pair met again coincidentally at another work function at NSW Trades Hall. As is well known, Albanese later asked her to meet him at the hipster craft brewery Young Henrys, in Newtown, for a beer.

What is not well known is that Haydon was less than impressed when she walked in and discovered Albanese surrounded by a group of large, hairy men.

“I walked in and he was surrounded by a whole posse of blokes. I thought it was a stitch up, he’s not actually meeting me for a beer. I thought, ‘what am I doing here? I’ve got to get out of here’.’’

“Then I worked out they were the blokes who actually run the brewery.’’

“They are big blokes with big hipster beards, it was hilarious,’’ Albanese says.

“And she was late.’’

Haydon denies being late.

The pair both insist the meeting was nothing more than a casual catch up over a beer, although they seemed to have a lot to talk about.

After several beers, the brewery closed, and they continued talking over dinner at Turkish restaurant Stanbuli in Enmore Road.

“I had been single for a long time when I met Anthony,’’ she says.

“I certainly thought – and I don’t mean this to sound pathetic – but I honestly thought love wasn’t going to happen for me.’’

Haydon and her close girlfriends joked they’d all grow old together like the Golden Girls, and buy a block of land up on the Central Coast to retire to, building separate bungalows and meeting for happy hour drinks.

“I’d gotten to the point in my life where I was really happy with my career.

“I was happy being single and I remember people would always say ‘oh it will happen when you least expect it’ and I used to find it patronising.

“I’d think yeah, okay. And I’m not here to say it’s a fairy-tale but genuinely, when we met, I certainly didn’t have expectations that it was going to be a relationship.

“I thought I was going to have a beer with a really interesting person who I liked as a politician. If we’d had a beer that night and gone our separate ways, it would have been a wonderful thing.

“I wasn’t star struck.

“In my job I’d come across politicians all the time, because when you work for unions at different industry events and things like that they often were keynote speakers.’’

“It began as just a drink but we got on really well,’’ Albanese says. “We met up again a few weeks later, having a night out at various locations around Marrickville. There was a connection.’’

Then Albanese invited her to join him at the Woodford Folk Festival in Queensland, where he was to give an oration in honour of the late Labor legend, Bob Hawke.

In hindsight, Woodford should have shown Haydon that life as the partner of the Leader of the Opposition wasn’t very normal at all.

It was a large crowd, and he had police protection, something she found “surreal’’. He was hanging out with people including Hawke’s wife Blanche d’Alpuget, and former prime minister Kevin Rudd.

But Haydon was more focused on the fact she was about to spend four days in a shipping container with a bloke she barely knew.

“It was very early on, remarkably early on,’’ Albanese says.

“We’d met like two months before, but we’d only been on a couple of actual dates. We’d probably been in the same room five or six times.

“I was into music, Jodie was into music, and I said ‘I’m going to Woodford, do you want to come?’

“It was really early on to sort of dive in like that. We barely knew each other. It was the first time we had been away together, and, romantically, we stayed in a shipping container, which is what you do at Woodford.’’

“I was grateful for the plumbing,’’ Haydon says.

“I was grateful for a towel and some sheets. I think he was road-testing whether could I rough it, was this girl a princess? I think I passed the test.’’

Haydon says she enjoyed seeing the “playful’’ side of Albanese and how much music meant to him. She had loved music since she was a little girl – her father had an enormous collection of vinyl – and her job in the music department at Grace Bros had helped cement that passion.

JODIE’S CAREER

It was also that job which led her into her career in the financial sector.

After high school, she was accepted into university at Newcastle and enrolled in a Bachelor of Arts. At the age of 18, she moved to Newcastle, but hung on to her job selling music videos and CDs at Grace Bros.

She didn’t love uni, and a friend from Grace Bros told her about a job going at an industry superannuation fund.

She started work as a 20-year-old, part-time with the Transport Workers Union superannuation fund, known as TWU Super, in 1999 or 2000.

“It was a member services role and I’ll never forget it,’’ she says.

“I felt very young at the time to be dealing with such serious issues from members.

“People would call me and disclose they’d just been diagnosed with a terminal illness, ‘how do I access my super?’ People would call in financial distress, ‘I’ve lost my job, can I access my super?’ People would call saying ‘I’ve had a workplace injury, I can’t work, can I access my super?’ People would call and say my ‘partner’s deceased, how do I claim on their super?’ So on any given day you were acutely aware of traumatic some people’s lives and their circumstances were, and I never expected to find that insight working in financial services.

“I very quickly learned the power of superannuation, its connection to the workforce. And there was my career for the next 20 years.’’

Over the years, Haydon worked in retail funds including for BT (formerly known as Banker’s Trust), the global company Mercer, and industry funds including Australian Super, Guild Super and HESTA.

She lived in Melbourne for six years (long enough to adopt the Richmond Tigers as her AFL team) and went overseas for a year on an “adult gap year’’ at the age of 36.

She returned to Australia to work for First State Super, now known as Aware Super. In February, she decided to try a new career, and became the woman’s officer for the NSW Public Service Association, which she had got to know through her role as a union delegate for them at Aware Super.

Within two weeks, she was drawn into the political fray, with comments she made on a union podcast seized on by one online publication as a political attack on the Morrison Government.

Haydon had noted that the Respect at Work report by Sex Discrimination Commissioner Kate Jenkins contained 55 recommendations but that some of the government responses were “missing in action, we haven’t seen these implemented more broadly.’’

It wasn’t the first comment she had made that became a story.

In February 2021, Haydon was in Adelaide with Albanese. Asked how they had met, Haydon joked it was on hook-up site Tinder. Within days, the comment reached the newspapers.

“Lesson learned,’’ Haydon says ruefully, asked how she had managed to start the story.

“That’s my sense of humour. That was an off-the-cuff remark at (Labor frontbencher) Mark Butler’s wedding. It was a few people who asked ‘how did you and Albo meet?’ As a joke I said ‘oh you know, on Tinder’ thinking everyone would get the sarcasm, because as if he could be on Tinder. I’ve got to say when I saw it in the paper I was like ‘what? People took that literally?’

“No they didn’t,’’ Albanese noted.

Haydon says there was only so much preparation a person could do to prepare themselves for such scrutiny and interest.

“I’m respectful of Anthony’s position,’’ she says.

“I will always be my authentic self. I think that’s really important, but like any relationship, I do have to be mindful of the impact I might have on Anthony.’’

Haydon says she had asked herself if she was ready for the level of scrutiny her relationship had brought.

“Sure, if you’re human, you do question, this is all really overwhelming. There’s anxiety, all sorts of things, a rollercoaster of emotions that come with it.

“But I reflected on my life without Anthony in it and I reflected on my life with Anthony in it and it comes back to the fact that I am happier with him.

“There’s more days of just me and Anthony together than there is of me and Anthony in the newspaper and so for me that’s what I think of.’’

“I’d always seen Anthony from a distance as a politician and always thought he was the type of guy you’d want to go and have a beer with.

“I always thought he was so approachable and authentic, so there was part of me that really hoped that was who he would be when I went to meet him. And he was. He was all of that.

“I think one of the lovely thing was, when we got to know each other there was no arrogance about Anthony. He was humble and engaging and funny and interesting. When you’re single and you’re 41 and you come across someone like that, you’re really grateful for that.’’

Originally published as How Anthony Albanese found love with Jodie Haydon