in defense of slow-burn loving
I started February by watching ‘Can this love be translated’, a Korean drama (K-drama). A coincidence? Not sure. I really loved it because it doesn’t rush love; it made space for the silence and the slow pauses.
I sometimes think that we have lost the art of the slow-burn romance. Everything feels hurried, intense, and fast. This has kinda warped the idea of love, that if you don’t have an answer immediately, then it is not love.
Love is curiosity
Love is discovering something new, digging deeper, and then realising you really like this feeling. Love can’t exist without curiosity. As self-obsessed as we can be as humans, when we step out of that self-bubble to really see someone else, stay tenderly curious about what makes them tick, and allow ourselves to learn them slowly, that is the quiet, steady progression of love.
Esther Perel put it more succinctly on one of my favourite podcast episodes, ‘What Now? with Trevor Noah: Love on a Timeline’.
“Before butterflies, you want curiosity. Things like, is this person eliciting your curiosity? I’d like to get to know you more. I enjoyed this. Would love to continue this conversation. Could talk to you for another few more hours. That’s curiosity. I’m intrigued, I’m open, I’m curious. It’s that position, rather than, is this person meeting my standards?”
But oftentimes it plays out this way. You meet someone, and you don’t want to take the time to get to know them. You want everything at face value; you want them to be entirely comfortable with you at the beginning, shed their skins, break boundaries, play their hand. Where’s the fun in that?
Because we want the intensity immediately, we make no room for mystery. Instead, we get people who step in to play that script we want. They perform who they are not to get you to like them or find them worthy of being loved. Replacing curiosity with performance. Replacing the joy of getting to know someone in bits, over time, with playing a part.
Curiosity requires allowing people to unfold quietly without presenting an idealised version of themselves upfront, and taking the time to discover them slowly. Then the butterflies can happen.
Love is more than grand gestures
With rushed love, it feels as though if your gestures aren’t over the top and in your face, then it isn’t love. But love isn’t just grand gestures, though they are great. Love can be found in the silence while huddled up on the couch, the long, slow hug after a bad day. It could be I tried out this new recipe, and here’s a plate I set aside for you so you can have a taste. Or I saw your favourite snack at the supermarket and got it for you. Or I noticed that you have been complaining about your kitchen tap, so I called a plumber, and he’s on his way to you.
These are small things that might go unnoticed, but these tender, consistent efforts make all the difference. It strips love of its busyness and forces you to slow down for a second.
Slow loving reminds you that a grandiose show of affection isn’t just what makes it feel real. It’s the showing up, solving problems, being present, and caring effortlessly.
Love is losing composure
One of my favourite songs by Asa is ‘Show me off’. In it, she croons about her love life and bares her heart honestly. She is not trying to be a tough guy or cosplay nonchalance.
She says, “Oh, you remind me that I am lucky, lucky. You’re the one that I’m gonna live my life with. I just want to spend it all with you.”
The world right now is wired strangely; we put up an act of who cares less than the other, tiptoeing around each other, and moving with a lot of caution. Love no longer feels like free-falling; there is too much composure. It feels restrained, instead of being held together by abandon.
Love should actually be see-finish, you know all their quirks and still choose them. You allow them to see all your quirks and choose to stay. It’s doing things you ordinarily wouldn’t do, and allowing yourself to do them, without second-guessing how it'd make you look. It’s not holding back but showing off instead.
There’s a joy in the slow loving, the slow-burning, watching as flames build up, day by day, so this is just a little reminder to embrace it more.
And I also hope love meets you wherever you are, whether you’re spending today with family, friends, a lover, or alone. Happy Valentine’s Day.
P:S; Chowdeck, the logistics company, shared this playlist for their Valentine’s campaign, and I really liked listening to it.