Hey there Reader,
Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, but it’s largely a non-event in our house. The 13th is the one that counts. Fourteen years ago, after a colleague handed over my number, my husband sent a message announcing he was “kick-starting some text communication.” It was the beginning of everything.
Fourteen years is long enough for love to look very different from the early days. It’s now less about anticipation and more about shared rhythms. We know each other’s coffee order, stress tells, and quiet signals. There’s a beautiful comfort in that familiarity.
But I’ve been thinking this week about the risk that comes with long familiarity. When you’ve known someone for years, it’s easy to assume you understand them. You know their stories, their patterns, and how they’re likely to respond.
And that assumption can slowly replace curiosity.
I was reading an article this week about Sonja Lyubomirsky and Harry Reis’ new book, How to Feel Loved. One of the ideas they describe is something they call radical curiosity.
Radical curiosity is more than polite interest. It’s a deliberate, genuine willingness to stay interested in the other person’s inner world — their beliefs, their eccentricities, the creative outlets that matter to them, the fears and doubts they don’t always talk about, and the parts of them that are still changing.
Long-term love doesn’t usually collapse because of dramatic failure. It narrows because we stop looking closely. We relate to who the person was rather than who they’re becoming.
After fourteen years, I don’t need more intensity. I need more attention.
🔍 One thing to notice
Think of someone in your life you feel certain you already understand.
It might be a partner. A close friend. A child. A parent. A colleague you see every day.
What would it look like this week to ask them one real question and stay with the answer a little longer than usual?
🌍 A wider lens
Relationship research consistently shows that feeling understood and valued is one of the strongest predictors of long-term satisfaction. Grand gestures don’t sustain love nearly as reliably as everyday responsiveness does.
Being curious signals something simple but powerful: I don’t assume I’ve finished learning you.
It's important to note that curiosity isn’t just romantic. It applies to friendships, family, teams, and even the way we relate to ourselves.
Later this year, How to Feel Loved will be one of our Book Club selections. We’ll explore what actually makes people feel seen and known in everyday life, and how to practise that in small, meaningful ways.
👉 Click to join the book club
And if there’s a relationship in your life that feels strained, flat, or in transition, coaching offers a steady space to think it through carefully. Sometimes what shifts things isn’t a big conversation, but a deeper understanding of how you’re showing up.
👉 Click to explore coaching