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In 2004, The New York Times began publishing essays about love and relationships. Sixteen years later, not only have the humble stories evoked raw emotions among its readers, but the column has become so popular it has morphed into a podcast, novel and television show – Modern Love – featured on Amazon Prime.
Two years ago, I submitted my own love story when NYT Modern Love Editor Daniel Jones requested readers to submit "tiny love stories" told in under 100 words. So I did. I wrote the story about the first time I fell in love:
"The first time I gave birth, I fell madly in love. In that moment, I met someone who – for the first time in my life – was related to me by blood, who looked like me, who was completely my own. But, I was also too young, too poor and unprepared to keep him. So I gave him away to someone who, would not love him more, but, could make sure he had everything he needed in life to become the person he is today ... If you love someone, sometimes you have to set them free."
This month I binge watched Modern Love and found each story to be so beautiful. Some were heart-warming, others complicated, and some I found downright gut-wrenching. However, each of Modern Love's eight episodes resonated with me deeply. Not only could I relate in many ways, but they made me reevaluate what I wanted for myself and changed how I define love.
What is modern love?
In the show's first episode, "When the Doorman is your Main Man," Maggie (Cristin Milioti) is an editor living in New York. Her doorman, Guzim (Laurentius Possa), is one of those regulars in her life, with whom she banters with as she comes and goes from her apartment. As Maggie embarks on the dating scene, Guzim observes her interactions with the men she dates. He eventually becomes her closest confidant, a father figure and emotional support partner as she enters motherhood as a single parent. (I won't ruin the ending for you, but no, Guzim and Maggie do not end up together.)
As I watched this episode, I was crushed watching Maggie – so excited for her daughter's entrance into the world – give birth alone. She later arrives back to her apartment building, where Guzim joins Maggie in her quiet celebration. So much joy, yet so much pain. I felt that. It reminded me of birthing my first child and of how I was brought into the world – alone. Unlike myself, Maggie kept her baby and it made me think about the choices we make. As I watched each episode, I was forced to evaluate what love is, what it is not and, more importantly, what it could be. I have concluded – like Tina Fey's character in the episode, "Rallying to keep the Game Alive" – "Love is many things." But in my opinion, love is ultimately a choice.
Choosing you
On Saturday, my parents will be celebrating their golden anniversary – 50 years of marriage. I've been trying to figure out what to get them for this occasion. Not only are they the most difficult couple to shop for, but I sort of out did myself when, on Feb. 1, 2000, I gave birth to their first grandchild, Sophia, on their 30th anniversary. They still say she's the best gift they've ever received.
For months I've been racking my brain as to what to gift them. Then, while watching Modern Love, it hit me: I'll document their love story. After all, my three siblings and I have a vague idea of how they met, but we really don't know.
Over the past two months, I've interviewed both of my parents and collected bits of information to fill in the hazy details of when they met in 1968. I asked each of them privately to tell me their story, and while their stories are similar, each gave me small glimpses of Mattie and Jim in their young love phase. I asked my parents about their first impressions of each other, what made each a great partner, and if they remember at what point they knew they were in love.
From what I have observed in my parents' relationship over the course of my 40 years as their daughter, I expected stories of grandeur, where a romantic Jim swept Mattie off her feet. While he said some very cute things about my mother, my father said the thought of being drafted influenced his decision to marry her. Mattie had become Jim's best friend, and he couldn't imagine her finding someone else in his absence. But she knew she was in love with him, too.
As I chatted with my dad, the conversation grew lengthy. I felt the conversation shift from me asking about them to me seeking out guidance for myself.
"What were the most important factors that contributed to your 50 years of marriage?" I asked.
"Find someone who values the same things you do," and "faith," he said.
'That sort of love'
In November, I found myself having a very similar discussion about love and relationships while sipping on fancy cocktails under a dimly lit chandelier with a handsome fellow. He asked me what I look for in a partner.
"I have very unrealistic expectations when it comes to relationships," I said before explaining the type of marriage I've witnessed between my parents.
"It's obviously not unrealistic since you've witnessed that sort of love manifest," he said.
He's right. And in that moment, my thoughts, feelings and expectations about relationships felt validated. For years I thought I'd never want to marry again, but it wasn't true. I just want what Mattie and Jim have.
Mattie and Jim
I'd tell you more about my parents' love story, but I'm saving that story to tell to our friends and family this weekend as I propose a toast during their anniversary party. However, I can tell you that their love story was 50 years in the making and its still in the making. Their love is one that grew, because every day they made the choice to.
Mattie and Jim are a bit Yin and Yang – simultaneously contrary and complimentary. My father described my mother as the most gregarious woman he's ever met and she brings him out of his hermit shell. She told me how he helped her get through completing her degree programs and always challenged her to be the best she could be. He said her mother felt the most important thing for her to be was a good cook, but he always saw her potential. Mom shared how they overcame deep trauma, and dad talked about the importance of communication and how they overcame differences because they ultimately shared the same values. They exist to be companions — separate, but equal — partially each others responsibility, yet very much out of each other's control. Both said learning to love your partner better is essential. And that takes work.
From them, I've learned that the magic isn't in finding gold – it's in finding the diamond in the rough. After all, coal is converted into a diamond only as a result of pressure and time. My conversations with them made me realize marriage is less about finding the perfect person, and more about acknowledging when you find the most perfect person for you. It's less about being the one, but more about becoming the one.