Beyond the Rom-Com Filter

You’re sitting there at 11 PM scrolling through a feed of perfectly curated "soft launch" photos and wondering why your life doesn't look like a cinematic masterpiece. Maybe you’re single, or maybe you’re in a relationship that feels more like shared laundry duties than a rom-com. We’ve been fed this idea that love is a singular, neon-colored destination. If it isn't soul-shaking and immediate, we think we're failing. But look around. The way your best friend sends you a specific meme because they knew it’d make you laugh is love. The way you finally cleaned your kitchen after three days of neglect is love. It’s not always a red rose; sometimes it’s a beige bowl of oatmeal you made for yourself because you needed the fuel.

We need to talk about the "Main Character" trap. Everyone wants the grand gesture, the rain-soaked confession, the life-altering spark. It’s exhausting to keep that energy up. In reality, love is messy and comes in flavors that aren’t always sweet. Sometimes love is salty—it’s the tears of a hard conversation where you finally set a boundary. Sometimes it’s bitter, like the discipline of leaving a situation that felt good but was actually toxic. When you stop looking for the Hollywood filter, you start seeing the vibrant spectrum of affection that’s already sitting right in front of your face.

Think about Acceptance and Commitment Therapy for a second. It teaches us that our values define our life, not just our fleeting emotions. If you value connection, you don’t just wait for a partner to provide it. You build it. You show up for your sibling’s boring graduation. You text your work bestie when they’ve had a rough shift. This is the "platonic flavor" of love that we often ignore because it doesn’t get as many likes. Community care is the backbone of surviving your twenties. It’s the safety net that catches you when the romantic stuff inevitably hits a bump in the road.

Real talk: stop waiting for a feeling to tell you how to act. Love is a practice, not a passive state of being. It’s a choice you make on the days you feel absolutely nothing. It’s showing up for yourself with the same kindness you’d give a stray kitten. Whether you’re pouring into your art, your friends, or your own mental health, you are participating in a massive, colorful ecosystem of care. It doesn’t have to be loud to be real. It just has to be honest. You aren't "behind" in life just because your flavor of love looks different from the person next to you.

Take a breath and look at your hands. You’ve used them to hold people up, to feed yourself, and to navigate a world that is frankly pretty chaotic right now. That’s resilience. That’s a form of love, too. Don't let a narrow definition of romance make you feel empty when your life is actually full of these smaller, quieter colors. You are doing better than you think, and the way you show up for the people around you—and yourself—proves it every single day. Keep going, because the world needs your specific brand of kindness.