I am the first person to admit that I am not romantic. Yet, I enjoy reading and writing romantic stories. Clearly there is a dichotomy here! Which has led me to ask myself the question…what is my definition of romantic?
I have a friend whose husband, when they first met, would light candles from the front door to the lounge to light her way to where he was waiting with a glass of her favourite wine and maybe something to eat. She thought it was wildly romantic and it was one of the reasons she fell in love with him, acts like that. When she would tell me about this, with stars in her eyes, I would want to vomit a little in my mouth. Because to me, it seemed performative. I’m sure it wasn’t, I’m sure it was completely heartfelt (in all honesty, I am not keen on the man, we have pretty serious value clashes), but to me it was just…bleurgh. I knew someone else who, when they proposed to their partner, dropped rose petals from their bedroom to their lounge where he was waiting underneath the Christmas tree on bended knee to propose. All I could think was, who clears up the rose petals after and…cheap, much? Combining a Christmas present with an engagement ring. It felt like he’d run out of ideas of what to buy her so decided to propose. I know, I know I am showing off my cynical, cold heart. In fact, after my recent heart attack my husband joked with the consultant that he was surprised he found one in me at all.
For me, though, I have realised that my definition of romantic is in the little, every day, things and not the big gestures. When my husband proposed to me, he did it so cryptically the first time that I didn’t even realise that was what was happening and apparently turned him down. I think he said something along the lines of ‘so, what are your views on marriage’ and I said, ‘I’m not sure it’s always necessary’. Apparently that was a proposal – please, if you find one in there let me know! We do laugh about it now because clearly, at some point, I said yes. When he said ‘do you fancy getting married?’ and I said ‘okay’. Literally, that was it. We went away for the weekend and he placed the ring on the table we were sitting at. But there was a lot of meaning behind it, believe it or not. He was hideously nervous, and knew my views on performative gestures which in fairness, he agrees with. But we were in a place that has huge meaning to me, which was why he had picked that particular time, and he proposed as soon as we got there so we could spend the rest of our time there celebrating and planning our wedding. Thought went into it, and we already knew we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together.
Aside from those big moments like proposals, romantic is for me in the smaller gestures as I say. Take my recent heart attack as an example. My husband is a very stoic man, not given to wearing his heart on his sleeve at all. He is the person you need in a crisis, he keeps a completely level head and deals with everything with a sense of calm and authority that immediately makes you feel better. Although he wasn’t with me while I was having the attack, I knew that he was dealing with the things that needed to be dealt with so I could focus on staying alive. He arranged for my parents to come to where I was, so our son could be cared for before he could get there and so I had someone who could be with me. He did what he needed to do in work before hightailing it first to our son to make sure he was okay, then to the hospital to see me. You could see the man was shattered by the events of the morning, reeling as we all were from the shock of it. He spent the entire time he was visiting with me with one eye on the monitors so he could see what my heart was doing, or keeping out of the way of the medics so they could do what they needed to do for me. When they were free, he asked them questions and at all times attempted to hide how upset he was from me and our son. So I didn’t get stressed and our son more upset when the truth was, he was beside himself. My potassium levels are low still and he makes sure every day that I eat a banana and have some dates to naturally increase them.
My husband hates eating salad, he looks upon lettuce as it being something akin to his nemesis. The first meal he made for me on my return from the hospital was a salad, which he has continued to eat to make sure I am supported in eating healthily. It was the same after I had our son, I had anaemia after so he made sure we ate an iron-rich diet for as long as needed to get my blood count back to the right levels. Does he buy me flowers every week? No. Does he sprinkle petals around the house? No, thankfully. Does he take me out for nice dinners? Yes, on occasion but they are never billed as ‘romantic’ and he doesn’t behave ‘romantically’ while we are out. Do we have days out as a family? Yes, when we can. Does he whisk me off for romantic weekends away? No, because the last but one time we did that I ended up in A&E with anaphylactic shock because of a sudden allergy to penicillin. Spending 5 hours in a hospital A&E was not particularly romantic (he was, again, marvellous in that crisis too). I did say to him after this latest crisis that he drew the short straw in our wedding vows. I didn’t agree to obey him, but he did agree to stick with me through sickness and health, and that’s been tested perhaps more than it should over the years!
I am sure my views on grand gestures are not agreed with by many, and that’s how it should be. For some people, they are the litmus test of romanticism and that’s absolutely right for them. For me, it creates a spotlight I am uncomfortable under. It’s like my views on Valentine’s Day, which we don’t celebrate. Rather than having grand, sweeping gestures on that day which is purely because the likes of Hallmark tell us we should, I would much prefer having the small gestures every day. I don’t want my husband to spend exorbitant amounts of money on a bouquet of flowers that will be half price the next day to tell me he loves me…if he can’t do the little things throughout the year that tell me does. Similarly with our wedding anniversary, we don’t do grand gestures on that day we just spend a little time over a bottle of wine perhaps reminiscing about our wedding day but then get on with our marriage. It’s like our wedding day itself, I loved it and had a great time but my focus was on our marriage and the life we would build together, as was my husband’s.
What are my romantic gestures? I have bought the odd surprise weekend away for us, but I haven’t really carried out any grand gestures either. But in everything I cook for us as a family I spend time and care selecting, organising and making. I keep our home clean and tidy, and our clothes washed and ironed. I carefully select cards at key times (except Valentine’s), and I carefully select presents for those I love. I listen whenever my husband wants to rant about things going on in his life he isn’t happy with such as work, and I listen generally when we are discussing something of interest to both of us. I take him into consideration in things I want to do, and I consult him on those things. That may not sound romantic, it isn’t intended to be romantic, but these are the outward manifestations of the love I have for him. Of the fact that I want him to be happy and play my role in helping make that happen – despite my firm belief that happiness comes from within. I am his biggest cheerleader, his staunchest ally, and I will tell him some harsh truths when they need to be told. I am always honest with him, even if it is something he doesn’t want to hear. Not to hurt him, not because I have to be honest regardless, but always to try and help.
I think we can get carried away by what romantic means, usually based on we are told it should mean because it financially benefits a corporation. I’m not interested in that, I’m interested in the smaller things that prove someone loves you and you love them.
Louisa Simpson 