Ask what’s missing in most marriages today, and the women in
them will tell you, “the romance.” For the un-romantic among us,
the “romance” that these women are talking about has nothing to
do with clothes dropping next to hot bodies. What’s been
neglected is the real romance that people who are newly in love
do automatically but fall away from once the “realities” of
marriage and relationship maintenance take over.
In writing inspirational romances, it wasn’t long until I ran
into the question of the anticipated bedroom scene. Being
Christian myself and having seen the consequences of traveling
down both the paths of chastity and promiscuity, I knew I didn’t
want to promote anything that would degrade the spirits of
either my characters or my readers.
Thus I knew that any pre-wedding bedroom scenes were not an
option for me. So, what was left? That was the big question, and
it forced me to look at what feels romantic to me—sans the
bedroom scene. That’s when I realized how important the four
most romantic gestures are to women. It is through these
gestures that we feel acknowledged, heard, and ultimately loved.
The first of these is simply holding hands. This gesture tells a
woman that she has an ally in this world—that she’s not in this
alone. It is the precursor to a warm body lying next to hers at
night, and for a married woman, it can literally be a precursor
to a warm body next to hers at night. This act exudes safety,
and therefore is romantic in-and-of itself. I witnessed the
awesome message of this simple gesture at my own wedding when my
parents, 28-years-married, walked up to light their side of the
unity candle hand-in-hand. It wasn’t planned. It was just their
natural way of communicating they were there for each other no
matter what.
A second truly romantic gesture is that of hugging or holding
each other. I’m sure you’ve seen them—those people who are newly
in love. They are in each other’s arms at every opportunity.
Their hugs are often not intense, “I want you right now” types.
More often they are simply, “I’m really glad you’re here and I
want to be close to you” gestures. The feeling of being
protected while simultaneously protecting is as primal as the
need for food and shelter.
Notice, for example, what happens when a father hugs a child’s
mother. Instantly the child runs to them and burrows between
them. It is not an effort to separate the hug, it is an effort
to become a part of the hug, to be fully accepted by another
person that you love.
Another romantic act is that of touching of the face or hair of
another. Mothers with small children will stroke the child’s
hair as they are falling asleep, and when one person strokes
another’s hair or face, it evokes the security in these earliest
exchanges with another human being.
Finally, the act of talking gets a lot of publicity in today’s
world. The ways “Mars” and “Venus” communicate or fail to
communicate has been picked apart to the marrow inside the bone.
However, one thing I think that all this understanding has
missed is how close really talking with each other can make both
partners feel.
Anyone who’s ever been married knows how easy it is to get
caught up in the six word sentences, repeated every night and
called communication. “How was your day?” “Fine.” “You get that
account closed out?” “Yeah.” You know this conversation. If
you’ve ever been married, you’ve probably had this conversation.
However, this isn’t the kind of talking I mean. What I mean is
getting under the surface of life to what’s going on in a
person’s spirit. Those newly in love know how incredible it can
feel to open up to another person and let them see into your
soul and then believe you are accepted for who you really
are—rather than for the mask you show the outside world. Not
only that, but we all know someone we would like to get to know
better, someone we could spend hours with and never tire of
asking them questions about who they are and how they got to
this place.
That, I think, is the point. When we are first in love, we want
to find out everything about the other person. We want to find
out what they love, and what they hate, who they love, and who
they hate. At some point, however, we begin to think we know
everything about the other person, and we stop asking—and
listening. This is the beginning of the death of romance.
So, if you really want to feel close again, shut off the
television, put down the book, forget the laundry and the dishes
for the night. Sit down, put your arm around your mate, and
talk. Get to know each other again. I guarantee you both will
feel the romance return. It doesn’t take a myriad of candles,
flowers, and candy. It takes two people who want to spend time
together and get to know one another better. That’s true
romance.