Let’s talk about love languages.
Not in a cutesy, Pinterest-quiz kind of way—
but in the real, raw, why-does-this-hurt-so-much way.

The idea is simple: everyone gives and receives love differently.
Dr. Gary Chapman’s book The 5 Love Languages spells them out:

1. Words of Affirmation – “I love you,” compliments, encouragement
2. Acts of Service – doing helpful things to show you care
3. Receiving Gifts – not about price, but thought
4. Quality Time – focused, intentional time together
5. Physical Touch – hugs, hand-holding, kisses, cuddles

Most of us have a top one or two that really matter.
Mine?
I need physical touch and quality time. That’s how I feel loved, safe, grounded.

It doesn’t have to be spicy or extravagant—just a kiss on the cheek, a hand reaching for mine, a cozy cuddle while we watch something dumb. Sitting on the porch. A shared meal without phones between us.

That’s it. That’s the spell. ✨

And when I love someone?
I show it through acts of service.
I bring the snack. I clean the house. I plan the trip. I make the memory. I put my own needs aside to give them what they need before they even know they need it.

That dynamic worked in my first marriage.
He held my hand. He kissed me. He hugged me. We spent time together.
And in return, I spoiled him with new board games, thoughtful gestures, surprises tailored to who he was.

In my current marriage?

There is no spell to be cast.

No hand holding.
No kisses.
No hugs.
No cuddles.
No quality time.
Just two souls existing in the same space.

And I’m still casting my love in acts of service. Still buying gifts. Still trying.
But my magic is wasted.
It’s met with indifference—like tossing rose petals into a void and hoping one sticks.

💔

It sucks.
There’s really no poetic way to say it.
When your love language is ignored—when your needs go unmet—you start to shrink.
You begin to wonder if maybe you’re asking too much.
Spoiler: you’re not.

But even when the grown-up magic fizzles,
I still get to end my days with tiny arms wrapped around my neck.
With sticky kisses on my cheek.
With the kind of cuddles that don’t ask for anything in return—just presence.

My girls don’t speak love languages.
They are love.
And for now, that’s enough to keep my heart soft. 💗🖤