Why the truest expressions of love are often unspoken, subtle, and deeply enduring.
There was a day when I came home late, drained from hours of noise, decisions, and negotiations. No words were exchanged, but a cup of tea had been placed exactly the way I like it—on the right side of the desk, steam curling into the silence. There was no “I love you” spoken, no embrace, no smile even. But it landed. I felt it—the love—as clearly as sunlight falls through a window.
That moment lingered longer in my memory than many loud declarations ever could.
In today’s world, we are constantly encouraged to perform love. Social media nudges us to show it, say it, prove it—publicly, daily, dramatically. We celebrate anniversaries with hashtags, express affection through emojis, and capture intimacy in carefully curated reels. It’s not wrong—just incomplete.
Somewhere along the way, we began equating the loudness of love with its depth, the visibility of affection with its authenticity.
But love, when it’s true, doesn’t need to be loud. It needs to be real.
“I love you, Mummy.”
“I love you, Daddy.”
“I love you, sweetheart.”
The words now travel like routine passwords to unlock a semblance of connection. We say them because we are supposed to, not always because we are moved to. And in doing so, we risk reducing love to ritual—a checkbox, a habit, a performance.
But love is not a transaction, not a script to be recited daily for compliance.
It is a presence—a listening, a noticing, a holding space.
It is what you feel when someone remembers your silence more than your words.
There is often a mismatch in how love is felt and how it is shown. Some express through words, others through actions. Some through time, others through touch. We rarely pause to ask: What does love mean to the person I’m trying to reach?
We love in our own language, not always in theirs.
And so, in the noise of daily life, love often misfires—not from absence, but from misalignment.
Films, advertisements, and even family role models often portray love as grand gestures, tearful reunions, and high-decibel proclamations. But in real life, love often sits in subtler places:
- the hand that adjusts your pillow at night
- the meal cooked without fanfare
- the quiet standing-by during your difficult days
- the patience that listens when you’re not easy to love
The people who love us the most sometimes say the least.
Their love speaks in patience, not posts.
So how then, in this world of curated affection and fast emotions, do we build something real?
By pausing.
By listening.
By remembering that love is not shown—it is shared.
It is the eye contact that doesn’t break.
The gentle correction that doesn’t shame.
The forgiveness that doesn’t announce itself.
The promise kept, long after the excitement fades.
You don’t have to shout your love. You don’t have to perform it.
Just let it flow—quietly, consistently, consciously.
Because the deepest loves are often not spoken.
They’re felt.
Not through volume, but through vibration.
Not through presentation, but through presence.
And perhaps…
the quietest love
is the one that stays.
Letters for the Inner Journey by Pushkar
Whisper back, if the letter spoke to you.