I've never come across a truly convincing definition of what romance really means. Most of the time, people cloak it in vague, almost esoteric language, "it's profound," "it completes you," "it's that warm, cozy glow" which blocks the honest conversation we ought to be having.
When you scrape away the fairy-tale aspect about the soulmates, the "meant to be," the Hollywood endings, what's left looks pretty straightforward and consistent across almost every story I hear: Intense limerence. An obsessive pull, the constant thoughts, the desperate need for the other person to like you back.
Physical and sexual attraction, or even just the urge to be close and touch, some people simply feel more "hug-worthy" or comforting than others. Being their top priority feeds the limerence even harder and tricks us into thinking the whole relationship is fated.
Label me cynical if you want, but to me romance boils down to limerence getting regularly reinforced by someone else, combined with the ego boost of sitting at the peak of their attention hierarchy. I don't see it as some unique, standalone emotion. I don't think it's especially good for us over the long haul because it distracts from necessary personal growth and can crowd out richer connections with friends, family, or even ourselves.
Maybe one day I'll experience something that shatters this view and proves me wrong. Or maybe what I've felt before simply wasn't the "real" romance people keep talking about. Either way, this is the only pattern I ever hear described when the word comes up.
One more thing I've become convinced of is thst genuine, deep love is inherently selfless. You care about the other's well-being whether or not it directly benefits you. The way we usually talk about romance, though, feels deeply self-centered: it's all about making sure the other person continues to validate and elevate us. Love and romance can overlap, but I no longer believe romance is love.
When you scrape away the fairy-tale aspect about the soulmates, the "meant to be," the Hollywood endings, what's left looks pretty straightforward and consistent across almost every story I hear: Intense limerence. An obsessive pull, the constant thoughts, the desperate need for the other person to like you back.
Physical and sexual attraction, or even just the urge to be close and touch, some people simply feel more "hug-worthy" or comforting than others. Being their top priority feeds the limerence even harder and tricks us into thinking the whole relationship is fated.
Label me cynical if you want, but to me romance boils down to limerence getting regularly reinforced by someone else, combined with the ego boost of sitting at the peak of their attention hierarchy. I don't see it as some unique, standalone emotion. I don't think it's especially good for us over the long haul because it distracts from necessary personal growth and can crowd out richer connections with friends, family, or even ourselves.
Maybe one day I'll experience something that shatters this view and proves me wrong. Or maybe what I've felt before simply wasn't the "real" romance people keep talking about. Either way, this is the only pattern I ever hear described when the word comes up.
One more thing I've become convinced of is thst genuine, deep love is inherently selfless. You care about the other's well-being whether or not it directly benefits you. The way we usually talk about romance, though, feels deeply self-centered: it's all about making sure the other person continues to validate and elevate us. Love and romance can overlap, but I no longer believe romance is love.
