mooodycherry

Turns out, sometimes the butterflies are just anxiety wearing a cute outfit.

Okay, can we talk about something?

I used to genuinely believe love was supposed to make you a little insane.

Checking your phone. Rereading a text six times. Sending screenshots to your friends like we’re suddenly FBI agents specializing in emotionally unavailable men.

What do you think he meant by “haha yeah”?

Girl. Probably haha yeah.

But uncertainty gave me butterflies, and I thought butterflies meant chemistry.

Now that I’m older, engaged, and experiencing a completely different kind of love, I’ve realized something slightly embarrassing:

Some of those butterflies were anxiety.

Oops.

Maybe Love Isn’t Supposed to Be Complicated

I blame movies. And books. And probably Lana Del Rey a little bit.

We’re taught to romanticize the chase. Someone doesn’t know what they want. Someone disappears. Someone comes back. There’s crying. There’s rain. There’s always so much drama.

Meanwhile, nobody makes a movie about the man who remembers you wanted a little treat from the store.

But honestly?

Give me the little treat.

I’ve learned that some of the most romantic things are actually incredibly simple.

Knowing someone will call when they say they will. Being able to disagree without wondering if your entire relationship is ending. Laughing over absolutely nothing. Sitting in silence without thinking something is wrong.

And especially:

Knowing where you stand.

Hot.

And Then I Fell in Love for Real

When I met my fiancé, love started feeling different.

Not perfect. We annoy each other. I love that man dearly and have also stared at him thinking, Why are you doing it like that?

Both things can be true.

But underneath normal relationship stuff, there was security.

I didn’t have to decode how he felt about me. I could actually like him openly without worrying that showing too much affection would somehow scare him away.

What a concept.

And somehow, I still get the butterflies.

I just get them without the stomachache now.

Unfortunately, My Birth Chart Explains Everything

Obviously I looked at the astrology.

I have a Cancer Venus, which explains… everything.

Cancer Venus wants love to feel like home. We’re sentimental, nurturing and very text me when you get there. I remember tiny details. I want cuddles. I want emotional intimacy.

Very casual. Very mysterious of me.

My fiancé has a Leo Venus, which is basically:

HELLO BEAUTIFUL PERSON I HAVE CHOSEN. ALLOW ME TO ADORE YOU.

Leo Venus is warm, loyal, playful and expressive. It wants love to feel special.

So my Cancer Venus is like:

I remembered your favorite snack.

And his Leo Venus is like:

LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL FIANCÉE.

Honestly, it works.

I bring the cozy. He brings the sparkle.

And that’s something astrology has actually helped me understand: compatibility doesn’t always mean loving someone exactly the way you want to be loved. Sometimes it’s learning to recognize how they express it too.

Maybe you’re waiting for flowers while they’re filling your gas tank.

Maybe you’re waiting for a paragraph while they’re quietly making your life easier.

But—and this is important—please don’t tell me a man hasn’t texted you in nine business days because “his Aquarius Venus needs freedom.”

No.

Astrology explains tendencies. It does not excuse bad behavior.

Please Stop Falling in Love With Potential

Friend to friend, we need to stop doing this.

He’s amazing when…

Once he’s ready…

I know deep down…

If he would just…

Baby.

Look at what’s actually happening.

Do their words match their actions? Do you feel respected? Do they show up? Can you communicate? Can you be yourself? Do you actually like who you are around them?

Those questions will tell you more than your synastry chart ever will.

And yes, I will still check the synastry chart.

I’m only human.

Maybe Butterflies Aren’t the Goal

I still want butterflies.

I want flirting, dates, kisses, trips, inside jokes and those little moments where you look at someone and think, I can’t believe I get to love you.

I just don’t want butterflies from wondering whether someone is going to choose me.

Maybe growing up in love isn’t becoming less romantic.

Maybe it’s becoming romantic about different things.

Consistency. Friendship. Being understood. Being chosen.

A Cancer Venus making a home out of another person.

A Leo Venus making sure that person knows they’re adored.

Maybe the best kind of love isn’t the one that keeps you on your toes.

Maybe it’s the one that lets you finally put your feet up.

And if there are still butterflies flying around?

Even better.

xoxo,
mooodycherry