A Small Moment That Made Me Think About.. Wait For it.. Love
The other day it was my manager’s wife’s birthday.
I asked him,
“What are you planning to get her?”
He looked at me with a straight face and said,
“I’ve got something in mind.”
Later that day, during lunch, he came back from Waterstones with a Pret sandwich and a thick Spanish cookbook.
I didn’t even need to ask.
I knew that was the gift.
Not rushed.
Not flashy.
Just thoughtful.
So I asked him another question.
“Valentine’s is around the corner… you getting something for that too?”
He laughed.
“I’ve been with my partner for 11 years. We don’t do Valentine’s.”
I smiled and carried on with my day.
But that sentence stayed with me.
Eleven years.
And no pressure to perform love for one day in February.
That’s the kind of love I want.
Love That Doesn’t Need Proving
I’ve always felt that Valentine’s Day can be a bit forced.
A bit commercial.
But I wouldn’t cancel it completely.
If I’m honest, my ideal Valentine’s wouldn’t involve a packed restaurant or an overpriced tasting menu.
It would be simple:
- Cooking something together at home
- A proper dinner indoors
- A bottle of wine
- A film we both enjoy
- No phones
That’s it.
The idea of going out only really makes sense in the early stages of dating.
When you’re still getting to know each other.
When effort looks different.
But long-term love feels calmer.
More secure.
Less about showing the world and more about being present with each other.
The Kind of Love I Want Isn’t Measured in Money
The kind of love I want wouldn’t be valued in money.
It would be valued in time.
I know that sounds cliché.
But time is the only thing you can never get back.
And if I’m honest, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how much I stress over money.
Career.
Building something.
Trying to level up.
Wanting more.
Sometimes I wonder if that mindset slowly turns relationships into something else.
Instead of something you grow, it becomes something you calculate.
Another cost to manage.
That’s not healthy.
Because when everything becomes a financial calculation, the emotional side of things slowly disappears.
“Dating Is Too Expensive”
The day before Valentine’s, I was at the barbers.
Two weeks in — haircut day.
By now I’ve built a proper friendship with the guys there.
Same chair every time.
Same conversations.
Probably spent more money there than I realise over the years.
My barber — who’s the same age as me — told me something interesting.
He’s stopped dating.
“It’s just expensive,” he said.
I told him it doesn’t need to be.
But he was convinced.
“Girls don’t want to spend. The guy has to do everything.”
We’re both Muslim — culturally more than religious — and we’ve noticed something recently.
We seem to be attracting more traditional women.
The kind where expectations are clear.
The man provides.
Different expectations.
Different pressure.
He’s decided that staying single — with the occasional fling — is easier.
But that lifestyle has a time limit.
You blink and suddenly you’re in your 40s wondering where the years went.
Still chasing excitement that doesn’t hit the same anymore.
And that part stuck with me.
Money Matters — But It Shouldn’t Define Love
I’m not naïve.
Money matters.
Dates cost money.
Rent costs money.
Life costs money.
You can’t pretend it doesn’t.
But love shouldn’t feel like a burden.
It shouldn’t feel like a monthly subscription you’re struggling to afford.
It should feel like two people building something together.
Growing together.
Supporting each other.
Not one person carrying everything while the other consumes.
There has to be balance.
Because when the foundation of a relationship is only financial expectation, the relationship becomes transactional.
And that’s not love.
Maybe What I Actually Want Is Stability
When my manager said “11 years” so casually, it made me realise something.
I don’t want excitement every week.
I want stability.
I want:
- Peace
- Shared growth
- Quiet evenings
- Progress together
- A relationship that feels safe
Not loud love.
Consistent love.
The older I get, the more I realise peace is attractive.
Drama might feel exciting at 22.
But peace is rare at 34.
And rare things are valuable.
Time Over Money
I’m still figuring life out.
But I do know this:
The kind of love I want isn’t about how much is spent.
It’s about how much is invested.
Not financially.
Emotionally.
Consistently.
Over years.
Money will always play a role in life — of course it will.
But time is the real currency.
Because once it’s gone, it’s gone.
Maybe maturity is realising that love isn’t about performance.
It’s about partnership.
I’d rather build something that lasts 11 years…
Than impress someone for 11 months.