Funny thing, I’ve written thousands of words about heartbreak, bad dates, messy breakups, you name it. Pain flows onto the page like it has somewhere to go. Writing it feels natural, urgent, even necessary. There’s a rhythm to it, a momentum, feel it, bleed it onto the page, repeat.
Happiness? Not so much. Since getting married, life is quiet. Steady. Simple. Love isn’t dramatic, it’s coffee poured for no reason, laughter lingering in the living room. It’s the small gestures that mean everything, the routine moments that are hardly noticeable until you stop to think about them. Trying to capture that on the page feels weirdly hard. There’s no tension demanding release, no heartbreak fuelling actions. Just…softness. It’s easy to feel like no one is going to be interested in reading about, who put the washing on last, or deciding what to watch on Netflix on a Tuesday night.
We’re great at writing bad reviews though, delayed trains, rude staff, love gone wrong. We can rant and vent for pages. But good reviews? Life is soft, love is steady, and suddenly our words feel clumsy. We hesitate to write it down, unsure if anyone will care about quiet happiness, ordinary days, the mundane moments that add up to a whole life.
But here’s the thing: happiness deserves a review too. The quiet, the easy, the steady, they matter. Writing it down reminds me to notice it, to appreciate it, to say, “Yes. This is good. This is real. This is home.” And maybe, in documenting it, I can learn to trust that happiness is worth attention too, not just the heartbreak, not just the drama.
So here’s my five-star review: marriage is kind, love is calm, life is steady, and these simple, unremarkable days? They are remarkable. And yes, they are worth writing down.
Ryon Maverick 