She was in her early forties when she told me this: “If I judged our marriage by how ‘in love’ I felt every month, we’d have split years ago.”
No bitterness. No regret. Just a quiet clarity that only comes from having lived through many seasons of love.
She wasn’t talking about settling. She was talking about reality—the kind that rarely fits in rom-com endings or anniversary captions.
There are days, she said, when they laugh like new lovers. Days when the spark is dim. Weeks when parenting takes all their emotional bandwidth. And long stretches where the feeling isn’t fireworks, but something steadier, harder to name.
She thought something was wrong for a long time. Because no one told her this was normal.
We Think Love Is a Feeling. But It’s Also a Capacity.
From the moment we’re old enough to consume stories, we’re taught a very specific script:
That love is a state you fall into. That the intensity of early romance should last forever. That if it fades, something’s broken.
Psychologist Arthur Aron’s 1997 research on romantic love shows why early-stage love feels so intoxicating—it lights up the brain’s reward centers, floods us with dopamine, and creates a biochemical high that mimics addiction.
But neuroscience also tells us this stage—called limerence—has a shelf life. It peaks early. Then wanes. Not because we’ve chosen the wrong person. But because our biology wasn’t designed to stay high forever.
And that’s when the real work begins.
Love That Lasts Looks Nothing Like the Movies
A 2011 fMRI study by Acevedo et al. looked at couples who’d been married over 20 years and still reported being deeply in love.
Their brains showed activation not in the obsessive dopamine loop, but in areas related to bonding, empathy, and long-term attachment.
They weren’t “madly in love.” They were safely, securely attached.
Esther Perel writes, “Love rests on two pillars: surrender and autonomy.”
Lasting love isn’t about feeling euphoric every day. It’s about knowing the other person is there—even when life is messy, moods shift, or affection quiets down.
“But Shouldn’t I Want More?”
This is where people start to panic.
They say:
“I miss feeling butterflies.”
“I shouldn’t have to beg for attention.”
“Isn’t love supposed to feel alive?”
They’re not wrong to ask. Intimacy should be nurtured. Resentment shouldn’t be ignored. If you feel invisible, it matters.
But here's the catch: Feeling less in love doesn’t always mean you’re in the wrong relationship. Sometimes, it means you’re in the long middle. The quiet valley between beginnings and breakthroughs.
And sometimes, the expectation to “feel in love” all the time is what blocks us from actually reconnecting.
When Marketing Becomes Mythology
For decades, companies have sold us the idea that love equals constant passion.
As Dr. James Averill’s work on emotion in society explains, culture shapes our emotional expectations. And in modern Western culture, we’ve romanticized intensity while pathologizing steadiness.
As if boredom is failure. As if deep familiarity is the enemy of desire.
But research from Dr. Eli Finkel at Northwestern shows that couples who expect their partner to meet all their emotional needs—and to feel wildly in love at all times—report lower satisfaction than those with more realistic, evolving definitions of love.
Here’s What Actually Helps:
Not more candlelit dinners. Not grand romantic gestures. But smaller, research-backed rituals that sustain connection:
Turning toward bids for attention (Gottman, 1999): Responding when your partner reaches out—even casually—strengthens emotional safety.
Having shared meaning: Creating routines, inside jokes, or future plans gives your bond dimension beyond romance.
Allowing boredom: The absence of drama can be a sign of safety, not decay.
Remembering: What did it feel like to first know them? What have you survived together? Nostalgia isn’t weakness—it’s renewal.
Love Isn’t Always a Feeling. Sometimes, It’s a Decision.
In Mating in Captivity, Esther Perel writes: "Desire needs mystery, but love needs familiarity."
You will not always feel “in love.” But you can still choose to be loving.
You can hold your partner through their bad weeks. You can repair after conflict. You can say: I’m here. Even if we’re not thrilling right now. Even if we’re tired. Even if the world tells us to expect more.
This isn’t a lowering of standards. It’s a deepening of them.
Because love that grows over decades isn’t built on constant chemistry.
It’s built on something far rarer—The decision to stay curious, committed, and kind in the moments when romance goes quiet.
Thanks for reading,
See you soon.
Team Rebuild
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