Years ago, during a night out, I found myself venting about my then-boyfriend to Tara, the older sister of a friend. While she was married with kids—something I wasn’t interested in—I reveled in my romantic dramas. Living in London, my aim wasn’t to find “the one” but to enjoy casual relationships filled with excitement. I viewed Tara’s notion of a relationship being “easy” as boring, assuming she must have settled down and was trying to justify her life choices.
Fifteen years later, I reflected on those words. Now in my 30s, I had lived through various brief romances, but the idea of enduring an unfulfilling relationship still seemed miserable. My thoughts on family remained uncertain, yet I feared never having one. After yet another challenging breakup, a friend named Steen moved to the UK from Australia. We shared a funny connection from the comedy circuit, and one night, while bowling and enjoying ourselves, I realised that being with him felt remarkably effortless.
This wasn’t an instant revelation; I didn’t suddenly declare my feelings. Instead, a quiet understanding began to bloom. Tara’s earlier advice about the “right person” came to mind, and I recognised Steen’s presence in my life was indeed comforting. Fast forward, we now have two children after grappling with years of fertility struggles, IVF, and the chaos of parenthood during lockdowns. Despite the hardships, my love for Steen remains undemanding and genuine.
Today, I appreciate the simplicity of our relationship. Clichés about needing butterflies in one’s stomach no longer resonate with me; instead, I understand the importance of finding someone who calms your mind. Love doesn’t have to be a whirlwind; often, it’s found in the reassuring, familiar moments that, at times, appear dull. Yet, it is this very stability that allows us to face life’s tougher challenges—transforming the notion of romantic bliss from something fervent to something profoundly comforting.