Little Moments; Big Life
It’s easy to remember the milestones of a relationship: the first kiss, the proposal, the wedding, the anniversaries, the special gift, the romantic vacation. They become the markers of a life you’ve chosen to share.
However, those big events do not define a relationship. They cannot sustain a relationship. They are simply points in the progression of time. Their value is in how they highlight the growth of a relationship and become cherished memories.
What becomes more vitally important to the overall health of the relationship is the little things we do during and between those events.
The things we do that become more than memories—they become habits.
For example, it’s the way Teddy remembers exactly the way Kim likes her coffee and brings her a cup just when she needs it without her having to ask. It’s the moments when Kim notices Teddy is quieter than usual and she responds in the way that shows curiosity, not accusation.
It is the moments when one reaches across the car to rest a hand on the other’s leg without thinking about it, or when their eyes meet across a crowded room and there comes a smile of love and knowing.
These are the moments that will never land in a social media post, in a scrapbook, or get stored in a cedar box. Yet they are the thousands of unremarkable choices we make each day that become both the fuel and glue of a relationship.
You may believe that you fell in love from that first kiss; that’s wonderful! But it will be the countless times you kiss each other’s soul that will keep that love alive.
In the Beginning
What’s your favorite cheat food?
What’s something you’re embarrassed to say you laugh at?
Tell me about your childhood.
What scares you?
What your favorite song to sing in the shower?
Feeling that tinge of love early in a relationship brings curiosity with it. It’s natural for us to want to know everything about the people we are interested in romantically. That’s why conversations flow so easily in the beginning.
Besides mere infatuation, underneath that curiosity, we are learning how to notice each other. We do it so instinctively that we often don’t realize we are cataloging the information that we will use to show up for each other in meaningful ways.
It was remarkable in the early stages of all my love relationships, how easily conversations stretched over hours, sometimes days. These were not all soul-depth dialogs; some were just silly or seemingly unremarkable. But there was always something worth noting. Not always deep revelations. Sometimes it was just the way something was said that revealed what their preferences were. What they found funny or interesting. The places they’d enjoy visiting. The way they behaved when they were angry or sad and couldn’t express it with words. The ways they expressed or felt love.
Focus and attention often show up as a language of love.
It is inevitable, however, that those conversations wane.
It is also natural that over time, once we begin to feel secure in the relationship, we begin performing those acts of love we learned more and reduce how much we talk about them.
That fact alone is not something to be alarmed about. It simply means that the relationship is moving from infatuation to familiarity. The conversations mostly turn to what to pick up at the grocery store, why did you leave the cap off the toothpaste, or how ugly the neighbor’s dog is.
That doesn’t mean that the deep talks have to end—they should absolutely continue—but they simply cannot continue at the same intensity or frequency as they did before.
I have written several times before that the positive habits we exhibit in relationships must become a practice—an intention. Staying curious has to be one of those habits.
Not because you fell in love, but because you want to show up in love every day.
The Extraordinariness of the Ordinary
Research suggests that satisfaction in relationships increases when couples engage in shared activities, specifically when those activities were satisfying, relatively stress-free, increased closeness, and—importantly—both partners genuinely wanted to participate.
Social media, dating coaches, therapists, even your family and friends often identify those activities as regular date nights, vacations, holidays, or special events.
Those are important, but what I’m suggesting is that a soft touch on the shoulder from your person—at a moment you’re feeling down or alone—can save you. The best part is that no reservations are needed.
The date nights will at times be replaced with one of you grabbing takeout to bring home. Vacations will sometimes mean a quiet weekend binge-watching a TV series or movies you both love.
What about the ordinary days between holidays and anniversaries? Love and attention shouldn’t vanish during those days, and there are more of them than the others.
Ordinary days don’t mean that love has lessened in your lives; it likely means that love has been integrated into your lives.
Some may say that enduring relationships require a constant spark or excitement, but consider this:
Teddy automatically fills Kim's water bottle before they go out for the day.
Kim buys Teddy's favorite snack just because she happened to see it while shopping.
He plugs in her phone because he notices the battery is dying.
She lets him have the better pillow.
These aren’t grand gestures. They aren’t part of a performance. They are manifestations. They are demonstrations. They communicate “I love you” without being asked—without a word being spoken.
I want to be careful here because I don’t want to imply that your relationship has to be extraordinary. That it has to be the way someone else says it has to be. I want to be clear that your relationship has to work for you and your partner just the way the two of you need it to.
I’m just pointing out that some of the most powerful things you can do to sustain a relationship may be small, but the practice behind them isn't at all.
I also want to point out that there is no boilerplate of gestures that will automatically lead to success in a relationship. It could be bringing home a bouquet of flowers on a random Tuesday. It could be making a snack for your person when you notice they were too busy to eat. It could be sitting quietly next to your person when they are going through something, just so they feel your presence.
It’s not the performance of love; it is the communication that says “I know you; I notice you, even without you asking me to.”
The excitement of early discovery is intoxicating and we all would love to remain in that bubble, but that’s just not the way relationships work. Because the reality is that love lives in the ordinary.
Maybe your person usually cooks dinner, but you notice they’re exhausted, so you quietly take over.
Maybe you have had a terrible week and instead of trying to fix you, they just sit nearby.
All relationships run into periods of conflict, distress, struggle, misunderstanding, and fatigue—internally and externally. The little things will not prevent those periods. The little things will open the space where you can address those challenges together—for each other—not against each other.
Because you both intentionally use what you’ve learned about yourselves and each other to make the relationship better. That is what is rare and extraordinary.
The ordinary moments aren't important simply because there are thousands of them. They're invaluable because ordinary life is where we get thousands of opportunities to practice curiosity, attention, responsiveness, self-awareness, grace, accountability, affection, and repair.
Why the Little Things Matter in Conflict and Repair
The little things not only matter when things are good. Attention and devotion become strikingly important when things are not.
You and your person have made the effort to learn their history, needs, strengths, weaknesses, boundaries, and traumas. In a healthy relationship, the purpose of this is supposed to help the relationship flourish. However, when this knowledge is used as a weapon against you, it can feel like a devastating betrayal.
It’s important to understand that because the little things you don’t do are just as important as what you do.
It’s also important to understand that despite your best efforts, despite how well you’ve learned your person, despite how well they’ve learned you, and despite how you think you have healed yourselves—conflicts will arise.
Long relationships eventually encounter exhaustion, illness, grief, career stress, caregiving, financial problems, aging parents, disappointment, and periods when one partner simply doesn't have much to give.
The little things aren’t a preventative. They aren’t a prescription.
They are the glue that holds a relationship together when the trials of life are pulling you apart.
So what does that look like?
When you are in the midst of an argument, remembering the way your lover likes their coffee will likely be the last thing on your mind. Coffee doesn't erase cruelty. A hug doesn't resolve an unresolved pattern. But perhaps making the coffee the next morning even though you're still annoyed or saying, “I know you're upset. I'm listening,” can be the thing that signals that your disagreement hasn't erased love.
Repair doesn't always happen through the perfectly worded apology.
Sometimes it’s:
Not rolling your eyes.
Not using the other’s vulnerability against them.
Not walking away simply to punish them.
Lowering your voice.
Letting them finish.
Remaining loving even while you’re unhappy.
It is crucial in a relationship to recognize that you have been entrusted with intimate knowledge of another person. Likely knowledge that few or no one else carries. That knowledge comes with an inherent responsibility for what we do with it. Once we accept that responsibility, the care we exercise in our small acts can help two people find their way back toward one another.
Because repair mostly lives in the small moments.
It’s worth acknowledging the opposite; relationships can deteriorate the same way—not necessarily through one catastrophic event, but through thousands of small moments of not noticing, not listening, not responding, not reaching.
We are continually adding something to the relationship—or quietly subtracting from it.
Nature demands that each of us evolve over time: our appearance, our needs, our beliefs, our relationships. The little things we do in relationships will also evolve. Not because the love has lessened, but because the way it is expressed and received is tied to how we evolve.
Imagine that the years have passed for Kim and Teddy. Teddy has developed some health concerns, so Kim has stopped mindlessly picking up his favorite snack that is not good for him. So instead, she buys a healthier choice and offers to share a walk together.
Kim is not punishing or denying Teddy. She’s showing care and expressing her desire to have him around for as long as possible.
The earlier version of Kim may have needed reassurance.
Older Kim may need patience.
The younger Teddy showed love by driving across town at midnight.
Older Teddy shows up by remembering Kim’s doctor appointment.
And eventually, something as simple as walking more slowly because your partner can't walk as quickly anymore can contain an entire history of love.
There's something beautiful in the idea that the actions themselves may become increasingly mundane while what they represent becomes increasingly profound.
Romance and excitement don’t have to end. But there is something deeply romantic about intentionally listening to and learning about your person.
Early in a relationship, curiosity comes almost automatically because the other person is unknown. We want to discover them. Years later, familiarity can create the illusion that the discovery phase is over.
We can easily make the mistake of creating a narrative that says: “I know them—that’s just the way they are.”
However, Teddy is not finished becoming Teddy. Kim is not finished becoming Kim. You are not finished becoming you. Your person is not finished either.
The journey is not the end. The end is the end. The journey is not being able to stop at, “I know you.” The journey is remaining curious enough to ask, “Who are you becoming?” “Who am I becoming?” “What are we bringing to this relationship?”
Teddy remembering exactly how Kim takes her coffee is lovely. But twenty years from now, does Teddy notice when Kim stops drinking coffee?
That's the practice!

