Every February, the world seems to agree on one thing that love is red. Red roses, red balloons, red dresses, red hearts splashed across shop windows and phone screens. It is as if love itself has been boxed into a single color and sold in neat packages, complete with chocolates and scripted captions. But the closer Valentine’s Day gets, the more uncomfortable that idea feels. Because the truth is, red is not the color of love at least not the whole story.
Red is loud. It demands attention. It screams passion, urgency, desire. And yes, those feelings can be part of love. Anyone who has ever fallen hard knows the rush the racing heart, the sleepless nights, the intense need to be close to someone. That kind of love burns fast and bright and red captures it perfectly. But it is also the kind of love that fades just as quickly if it is not anchored by something deeper. Passion alone is not enough to carry love through disappointment, distance, boredom, misunderstandings and change.
Real love is quieter than Valentine’s Day adverts would have us believe. It does not always arrive with grand gestures or dramatic confessions. Sometimes it shows up in silence in sitting next to someone on a bad day and not needing to say much. Sometimes it looks like patience, like staying even when walking away would be easier. Sometimes it is choosing understanding over pride, forgiveness over ego. None of those moments feel red. They feel softer. Steadier. More grounded.
Love also grows and growth is rarely dramatic. It happens slowly, awkwardly, imperfectly. People change. Feelings mature. Expectations shift. Anyone who has loved deeply knows that love is not static it stretches, bends and occasionally breaks before finding a new shape. This kind of love requires effort, communication, and resilience. It is not glamorous and definitely not always Instagram-worthy. But it is real. And real love thrive on intensity alone and consistency.
Valentine’s Day often celebrates the beginning of love the excitement, the butterflies, the chase. But it rarely celebrates the middle the ordinary days that actually make up most relationships. The days when love looks like shared responsibilities, hard conversations, compromises and small acts of care. Making tea for someone who is tired. Sending a message just to check in. Remembering details that seem insignificant but mean everything. These moments don’t fit into a red box tied with a ribbon yet they are the very foundation of lasting love.
There is also another side to this obsession with red the pressure it creates. The idea that love must be intense, dramatic and visibly passionate can make quieter forms of love seem insufficient. People begin to question their relationships because they do not look like what February sells. They confuse peace for boredom, stability for lack of romance. In reality, feeling safe with someone, feeling seen, feeling understood these are not signs of love dying. They are signs of love growing up.
And then there is self-love, a concept Valentine’s Day often forgets altogether. Love is not only romantic. It is also learning to be kind to yourself, setting boundaries, choosing environments and people that allow you to breathe. That kind of love is rarely red. It is gentle. It is patient. It is forgiving. It does not rush or demand. It simply exists quietly reminding you that you are enough.
This is not an argument against red roses or romantic dinners. Those things have their place. Red can be part of love the spark, the desire, the excitement that draws people together. But reducing love to one color does it a disservice. Love is layered. It is complicated. It is emotional and practical, thrilling and exhausting, joyful and painful, sometimes all at once.
So as Valentine’s Day approaches and the world turns red once again, perhaps it is worth pausing to question the story we have been sold. Love is not just what makes your heart race, it is what makes your heart feel at home. It is passion, it is patience. Not just desire but care and intention.
Red may be the color of attraction. Red may be the color of beginnings. But love real love is a blend of many colors, woven together over time. And that, more than any rose or ribbon is what makes it beautiful.
