THEN: She used to think his laugh lit up a room.
NOW: It startles even the dog.
THEN: He used to think her “just rolled out of bed” look was adorable.
NOW: He’s stopped asking if she slept well – the answer is obvious.
THEN: She used to think his messy hair was sexy.
NOW: She wants to hand him a comb and a warning.
THEN: He used to think her long stories were charming.
NOW: He silently prays for an intermission.
THEN: She used to think his presence made her heart race.
NOW: It just raises her blood pressure.
You’re getting the picture here.
I wrote a blog once about the fact that humans acclimate to anything – the hard stuff, the heartbreaking stuff, the “how is this my life” stuff. Illness. Long commutes to a job you hate. A child moving across the country. A broken bone. We adapt. We adjust. We survive.
But we also acclimate to the good stuff all too easily, and often we see that as unfortunate – forgetting that the good doesn’t lose its value just because we’ve grown accustomed to it.
And in relationships, we feel this shift the most.
Remember those butterflies? The heartthrobs? The goosebumps? The chemistry so intense you could barely swallow your water at dinner because you were too busy staring into each other’s eyes like two dehydrated Labradors?
It makes you wonder how something that electric can dim so quietly.
Back then the ceiling could’ve collapsed around you and you wouldn’t have noticed. You were too busy grinning, playing with your hair, playing footsie, batting your eyes, and trying not to pass out from the ridiculous level of chemistry happening at that table.
The simple answer: We got used to it. Love didn’t go away – it evolved.
And yes, that’s a little sad.
Every human being should be so fortunate as to experience falling in love at least once. Most have. Some have been lucky enough to experience it again after divorce or death. And then there are those who make falling in love their career – serial romantics who treat relationships like Costco samples. “Ooh, that one looks good. I’ll take a taste and decide if it’s worth stocking up on.”
Think back – way back for some of you.
You had a crush. You prayed he’d call. Then one day your phone rang, and there it was: his name on the screen. And for those whose memories stretch back a little further, you answered the phone on the wall silently begging it to be him. The uncertainty was its own kind of electricity.
You let it ring a few times so you wouldn’t seem desperate but then panicked, because what if he gave up and hung up? So you answered on the third ring with that naïve, breathy, “Hiii,” trying to sound like a Disney princess who just woke from a nap.
He knew it was you, of course, but still asked, “Hi, is this Katie?” As if your phone had a rotating cast of women answering it.
And then the real fun began. You had to get ready for your big date.
You had one week to find the perfect outfit. Sexy but not too sexy. Cute but not childish. You tried on fifteen different outfits, staring at yourself in the mirror and wondering, “Does this make my butt look big? While also adjusting your neckline twelve times, aiming for that sweet spot between “tasteful” and “I have assets.”
You got your nails done, your hair done, and picked a perfume that would draw him in like a moth to a flame. You chose a neutral/pinkish color lipstick because red would make you look like a floozy.
It was a lot of work- so much attention given to every detail – but so worth the effort. When you looked good, you felt good. And you felt good.
Your hard work paid off. He fell for you completely – hook, line and sinker. All that effort, all that anticipation, all that sparkle you put into getting ready… it worked. And now fast-forward to today…
The sexy blouse with the low-cut V neck, has been replaced with an oversized sweatshirt. Your hair hasn’t been “done” since the kids were in diapers. Your nails are now “natural,” which is code for “I gave up.” Your perfume is now called, “Eau de Who Are We Kidding.”
Why does that euphoric, magnetic, all-encompassing, intoxicating feeling fade?
People – especially women – wish it would last forever. They want romance, the attention, the doting, the feeling of being someone’s absolute priority. We want to hear the “Oh baby, you look incredible,” the “Damn, I’m one lucky man.” And the “You look absolutely stunning in that dress,” said with a look that lets you know his mind was wandering into territory he wasn’t about to verbalize.
And once upon a time, I did hear versions of those things… maybe not quite that poetic, but the feeling behind them was close enough to make me believe it.
But here’s the real question: Would we actually want to go back to all that?
Some of you are screaming YES, but let’s be honest – it was a full-time job. There is comfort in being content. There is peace is not contouring your face like a Kardashian every time you leave the house.
It’s sad that things we once found cute now annoy the heck out of us. The ranch dressing you used to dab off his mustache while giggling? Now, you stare at him thinking, “When did he become such a slob?” Now if he hints at anything remotely bedroom-adjacent, you’re suddenly very invested in folding fitted sheets.
In the beginning, nothing the other person did was offensive. And even if it was, you excused it because you thought, “He can be trained.”
What exactly is happening when two people fall in love? Because inquiring minds want to know, I did what I always do – Dr. Google to the rescue.
Science says falling in love is a full-body, full-brain event. Your reward system lights up like fireworks. Stress hormones spike. Judgement dims. Bonding hormones rise. Your body reacts like you’re on a thrilling, slightly terrifying roller coaster.
It’s chemistry, biology, psychology, and evolution all working together to glue two humans together.
But I have another theory – and mine is way more fun. I believe there’s a spiritual component at play.
Years ago, I read a book on past-life regression. A woman under hypnosis wasn’t just taken into a past life – she was guided into the space between lives, what many would call the heavenly realm. There, she and her guides discussed her next incarnation and the planning that goes into it. The hypnotist asked how she would recognize the person she was meant to fall in love with, in her next life. How would their souls find each other?
Her answer gave me goosebumps.
She said souls leave breadcrumbs. The human might not recognize them, but the soul always does. She explained that in her next life, she and her future husband planned that when they met, they’d be dancing. He’d joke that he had two left feet – that’s how I’ll know. That will be our sign. The soul will recognize it instantly. The human might just think, wow, this guy really can’t dance, and moves on. Meanwhile, the soul will be doing cartwheels whispering, It’s you! It’s really you!
While the dopamine high is magical and we often wish it could last forever, would we really want to trade the comfort of not having to worry about looking our best all the time for the comfort of just being ourselves?
Frankly, not wearing makeup, hair in a messy bun, oversized sweatshirt with elastic waist comfy pants – and having that be A-OK with my partner is what love looks like on an ordinary day.
Occasionally, it’d be nice to hear, “Damn, you look sexy” come out of my husband’s mouth – but who am I kidding? Those lips currently have ranch dressing on them, and I’m far beyond dabbing it off with a napkin. Wipe your own mouth, for Pete’s sake.
A toast: Here’s to the early days when we shaved, plucked, painted, and perfumed, and to the later days when we’re just proud we remembered to shower. May our partners still see the spark in us even when we look like we’ve given up on society.
And here’s to the deeper magic beneath all of that: the breadcrumbs we left for ourselves when planning this life, the signs we follow without knowing why, and the moment we lock eyes with someone and feel the unmistakable pull of a story we’ve already lived together.
Here’s to the beautiful irony that the soul you’ve known for centuries still needs a napkin reminder.
CHEERS!
