Remember: When Falling in Love, Prepare for Landing

Some people love the rush of falling in love. They become addicted to the swirling chemistry of attraction, lust, and excitement of a new relationship. But falling doesn’t last long, and every new thing is bound to get old at some point. We have to remember when we’re falling in love that we also have to be prepared for landing.

When last I fell, I trusted the falling for the first time. I wasn’t wrapped up in anxiety about how or if it would end. I felt so safe at the outset that I would only allow for the thought of a soft landing in his arms. I could enjoy the glorious fall without constantly waiting and watching for a shoe to drop beside me.

Safe relationships should allow us to enjoy the fall without being wrapped up in anxiety the whole time. But what I didn’t know then was that I was falling alone. Love bombing looks a whole lot like love to the person being besieged by it. When the smoke finally cleared, I realized that I was the only one who had wholly risked my heart.

What I discovered is that some people really do love the fall, but they hate the landing. It’s not just the transition into a more settled relationship that bugs them. It’s the return of routine and taking off the rose-colored glasses of love to see that the other person is, perhaps, ordinary and as flawed as the rest of us.

Without the rush of newness to distract them, they see every misstep and call out every mistake. Once-adorable quirks become annoyances, which fester. They want to fall forever — but some of us just want that soft place to land.

Clearly, I’m one of the people who’d rather have a soft landing over an endless fall. I loved the ordinary and routine when it took place by his side. Something as simple as sipping coffee while reading together in the morning became sacred to me. Shoes carelessly leaning against each other, discarded by the door, were holy relics.

I’d never been able to take love for granted. Only people who have had an abundance of love — used up and discarded — can ever do that. So, I treasured every forehead kiss and gently held hand. I savored the moments that were unremarkable just as I did the ones that were hopelessly romantic and doomed to end.

When we fall in love, we do need to spare a thought for landing.

It’s a relational skill to make that transition from infatuation to deeper love. The rush settles into more of a slow build of deeper intimacy. We begin to show more of our faults and flaws, trusting each time that we are safe to be human and imperfect when we are loved. We get through those first few arguments, and we let out a sigh of relief when we survive them.

I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that this transition is tough for all kinds of people — even the ones deeply in love. Our relationship attachment styles can make this slow slide feel like a giant leap. We have to face our anxiety or avoidance alongside the fears we harbor about any relationship. What seems simple to some can feel harrowing to others.

But if we want the relationship to last, we have to face it. The fear of failure. The anxiety of vulnerability. The temptation to distance ourselves from the one we love best. If we want a lasting, loving relationship, we have to do the work to go from falling together to landing in one piece and walking hand-in-hand into the sunset — or perhaps a little something less trite.

The point is, the beginning of the relationship is not the relationship. It’s just the beginning. To have anything more than a start followed by a quick end, we have to be willing to walk hand-in-hand with our partners and our discomfort. If the relationship is healthy, the other person should extend us the safety to do just that.

We have to develop the relational skills needed to go the distance.

To this day, I maintain that my former love had the heart necessary to go the distance with me, just not the skill set to navigate the journey. Relationship skills are as important as love, and if we don’t have them, it’s entirely possible to develop them.

I had to learn to set stronger boundaries and to communicate more effectively. Past toxic relationships had been hard lessons learned. I wanted more than those paltry attempts at connection. I wanted a deeper love — one that could last. So, I did the work. I learned to address uncomfortable topics when I would rather have done anything else. I tried my best to stay vulnerable, even when doing so was painful (and it was always painful). I kept trying because I believed in the connection long after the beautiful fall turned into a harsh and sudden landing.

The work continues outside of relationships, too. After it was all over, I had to grieve and heal. I had to process the end of a love story I didn’t want to end at all. But I also had to learn how to make myself vulnerable again for a chance at loving and being loved in return. That remains a challenge. I keep an open heart, but I’d be lying if I said that there wasn’t a guard at the gate keeping watch.

We have to build a life after landing.

In my case, the relationship ended not long after the landing — or at least, it felt that way to me. But let’s be really crazy and pretend that it hadn’t. Had the falling transitioned well to landing, we could have built a life together. I don’t know what that would have looked like. It would likely have involved compromises on both sides. But it could have been a lovely life.

When the landing leaves us alone, we’re still responsible for building a beautiful life. That’s what I did in the aftermath. I bought a house and adopted pets. I grew a wild garden, and I made time for friends and family. I didn’t stop living when he stopped loving. I didn’t just retreat into myself, clutching my unhappiness close to me. I hurt for a long time. And then, I healed. Even during the hurt, I did my best to make a good life for when I was finally ready to fully embrace it.

Relationships can survive the landing. Many do. Things settle down. The first rush of chemistry deepens if we’re lucky. We build a life of “we” rather than “me”. It’s often hard, but everyone I know who has successfully found the person who could both fall and land with them has told me that it’s worth it to walk through life with the one person who sees them and loves them for who they are.

After all, falling in love is certainly beautiful — but staying in it? That is something extraordinary, even when it only looks like a collection of ordinary days in an ordinary life.

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