Guest Commentary | Stable love is not perfect, but is real

According to Souvik Das, love is not a highlight reel nor constant fireworks and theatrical declarations. It is two individuals evolving side by side, allowing room for imperfection without weaponizing it.

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Image: Monika/Pixabay

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by Souvik Das
      Guest Viewpoint

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Every Valentine’s Day, we are reminded of what love is supposed to look like.

It arrives as red roses and candlelit dinners, as carefully worded captions, and smiling photographs framed by perfect lighting and even more perfect declarations. Scroll through social media long enough and love begins to look effortless — beautiful, polished, almost cinematic.

But somewhere beyond the filters and hashtags, an uncomfortable question lingers: When did love become something we perform?

In today’s culture — especially among young adults navigating college campuses, careers, and digital lives — relationships often begin with excitement and promise. Yet many dissolve just as quickly. We blame busy schedules, shifting priorities, or “incompatibility.” But perhaps there is another reason we rarely admit: We are trying too hard to be perfect in love instead of being present in it.

Modern dating often feels like an audition. We present the most polished versions of ourselves: agreeable but not too assertive, ambitious but not intimidating, attractive but never insecure. We edit our personalities the way we edit our photos. Flaws are concealed. Doubts are softened. Vulnerabilities are postponed.

But can love truly breathe behind a mask?

The philosopher Erich Fromm once wrote, “Love is not something natural. Rather, it requires discipline, concentration, patience, faith, and the overcoming of narcissism.” In other words, love is not a spontaneous miracle nor a search for perfection. It is a conscious practice — the quiet, daily, imperfect effort of showing up with honesty, humility, and care.

Illustration: Lumpi/Pixabay

The truth is simple, even if it sounds unfashionable: stable love is not flawless or dramatic — it is steady, grounded, and rooted in genuine feeling rather than fantasy.

Real love is not a highlight reel. It is not constant fireworks or theatrical declarations. It does not demand that two people agree on everything or exist in uninterrupted harmony. In fact, stability often grows not from avoiding disagreement, but from navigating it with respect.

A stable relationship includes ordinary days. It includes exam stress, work deadlines, financial anxieties, family expectations, and personal insecurities. It includes choosing communication when withdrawal feels easier. It includes apologizing when pride resists. It includes practicing patience when frustration rises.

Perfection is exhausting. Authenticity is sustainable.

When two people feel safe enough to stop pretending, something powerful happens. Conversations deepen. Laughter becomes unforced. Even conflict becomes constructive rather than destructive. The relationship shifts from performance to partnership.

Our culture often glorifies intensity over consistency. We admire grand gestures yet overlook the quiet loyalty that sustains love. We celebrate passion but underestimate perseverance. The early thrill of romance — the butterflies — is undeniably beautiful, but fleeting. What endures is character — the steady choice to care and remain long after the excitement softens into something quieter and real.

As Søren Kierkegaard observed, “Love does not alter the beloved, it alters itself.” Mature love does not insist on perfection; it refines itself through adaptation, forgiveness, and growth.

Stable love is built less on chemistry and more on courage — the courage to be fully known and still choose to stay.

This does not mean settling. It does not mean tolerating disrespect or abandoning self-worth. Healthy stability is not endurance of toxicity; it is mutual growth. It is two individuals evolving side by side, allowing room for imperfection without weaponizing it.

In transitional spaces — college towns, early careers, uncertain futures — relationships can feel temporary by default. Many assume seriousness limits freedom. But perhaps stability is not the enemy of freedom. Perhaps it is the foundation that makes emotional security and personal growth possible. Enduring love is not dramatic, and that is precisely its strength.

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Photo: Apoorv Sharma/Pixabay

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It does not need constant display to be validated. It does not rely on public approval. It survives awkward phases, shifting dreams, and personal change because it is rooted in something deeper than surface compatibility — it is rooted in acceptance.

Real love does not eliminate flaws; it makes them less frightening. It does not promise a life free of conflict; it promises a commitment to work through it. It is less about finding someone perfect and more about building something resilient.

In a world obsessed with appearances, choosing authenticity may be the most radical act of romance.

So, this Valentine’s Day, perhaps the greatest gesture is not an extravagant gift or a carefully staged photograph. Perhaps it is the quiet decision to remove the mask — and to love, and be loved, as we truly are.

Because stable love is not perfect. It is real.

Souvik Das is a Senior Research Fellow (SRF) in the Department of Physics at Tezpur University. He writes occasionally on social and ethical issues in a personal capacity.

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