Hello! We meet again. Live footage of me sitting down at my computer and realizing I actually have to write an essay every other week:
Anywho, where were we? Ahh yes, I was preparing to be vulnerable all over you. Before I do that, can I tell you a secret? (It’s not a secret, I’ve told practically anyone who will listen.) I read 52 books last year (please clap) and the majority of them were romance novels. Before last year, I hadn’t had much interest in the genre. No idea why that is, I adore romance in film! I was raised by Nora Ephron and Nancy Meyers! I had read a few romance novels here and there from some of the more popular authors (S/O Emily Henry!) but mostly stuck to my beloved mystery/thrillers or general fiction.
However, last year I was feeling down and started gravitating toward lighter fare and romance seemed like the move. I read them one after another. I devoured them, I was a glutton for ‘happily ever afters’. In one week, I read 4 books. I haven’t been that insatiable since I was a pre-teen when I would famously take stacks of Baby-Sitter’s Club books and read them one after another in a single day. I was in the MF ZONE. I explored the genre and found things I loved (Enemies to lovers!) and others I didn’t (Historical romance is not for me! I’m sorry!!). I delighted over the closed-door romances and CLUTCHED MY PEARLS at the smutty ones (Tessa Bailey is a fuckin’ FREAK, get into it!). I may have (definitely) leaned on my newfound love of smut for my own pleasure….a lot. I’m just saying, sex scenes written by women are VERY GOOD.
Overall, they just left me in a positive headspace. It was therapeutic. I not only reconnected to my inner child by reading fun and light fiction but I also began to feel positive about love. I started viewing the world and all of its harshness through a very romantic lens. I lead from a place of love (and horniness)1.
I sometimes feel as though I might be too soft for this world (The name of this newsletter is a nod to this hehe). I’m sensitive and I cry easily. A song, a film, a turn of phrase, or my own experience can get me to tear up. For example, I recently got a lash lift and when my technician told me ‘no wet or heavy sweat’ for 24 hours, I panicked and asked her if I could cry. The look of pity on her face was enough to make me want to stuff the words right back into my mouth but it was a genuine concern! I am who I am. I’m at peace with that. Sometimes though, I can’t help but feel, within my love life, the bothersome insecurity of being a romantic at heart, a “hopeless romantic” if you will.
Not sure if you’ve heard but, dating in the year 2024, in Los Angeles, is a specific type of hell. I’m trying to find the balance between protecting my heart and keeping it open to something unexpected. That’s why my Year of Romance, as I’ve coined it, felt so nice! I leaned into a world where romance was common and abundant, even considered the norm. Reading my stories gave me the feeling that I was the star of my very own rom-com! I carried that energy into my dating life. I felt like if I put the vibes out there, that energy might come back to me. Is this what Oprah means by manifesting? I’ve found this to have kinda worked! This is the energy I’d like to keep with me going forward. I can attest that being a little delusional feels quite good.
I read this article a while back written by a romance author I love, Bolu Babalola - this is a little bit that has stayed with me:
In reality, being a romantic is edgy, resilient, and courageous. It is seeing Mount Everest, seeing just how impossibly high it is, and still deciding to climb it because you know the air will be better, the view will be transcendent. We may tumble down on the way up, but we still continue our ascent. It is hope against hope, believing in the existence of light when surrounded by abject darkness. It is being brave. It’s also believing in the type of love you seek, of revering romance and love so much that it is not about being partnered for the sake of being partnered, but desiring the right kind of partnership for you.
-Bolu Babalola
I love this because it helped reframe the term ‘hopeless romantic’, which can be irritating. Believing in love, revering it even is a work of athletics. It’s not for the faint of heart! People who believe in love and seek it out over and over again are some of the baddest bitches on the planet. Getting back up again after experiencing heartbreak is one thing, but staying hopeful on the journey is the real test of your character and fortitude.
These stories lifted me when I needed a boost, and strengthened my heart when it needed a tuneup. Romances may not be all I read now, but they reinvigorated my love of reading (a miracle!) and I know they’ll be there when I need to feel good, literally and metaphorically. If you are rolling your eyes at me right now, I completely understand but I implore you not to knock it until you fucking try it!!!
Talk soon bb’s!
PS: Imma leave you with a few passages from romance novels I enjoyed and happened to document:
PPS: In case you are looking for a romance rec, here’s a short list of books I’ve read recently that I loved and would recommend to anyone:
Book Lovers - Emily Henry (I love all of hers but this one is my favorite.)
Expiration Dates - Rebecca Serle
The RomCommers - Katherine Center (So fucking funny and sweet.)
Ready or Not - Cara Bastone
The True Love Experiment - Christina Lauren (I love all of their books, but this one is elite.)
It Happened One Summer - Tessa Bailey, as I mentioned before, goes HARD in the paint. This novel and every other of hers is steamy AF. Enjoy ❤️🔥
My Year of Horniness was the alt title of this essay.