Proofs of love & why we write them
In recent weeks, I’ve been thinking a lot about the staying power of love notes.
Over the years, I’ve written hundreds (if not thousands) of personal notes and sent them out into the world, primarily by mail. It always thrills me when I jump on a video call with someone and catch a glimpse of a LoveYou2 note I sent pinned to their bulletin board. Or when I visit a friend’s home and see one of my notes placed right on the shelf or mirror where they’ll see it every day.
These tangible physical notes remind us of something, that is made visible by this physical artifact: we remain a part of each other's lives, even across distances or long stretches of silence. They remind us of what it means to truly see someone—and then take the time to tell them.
A note from my niece
I treasure this note my 8-year-old niece mailed me after a particularly fun visit to her house. She covered the card in stickers after she wrote a numbered list of exactly what she likes about me:
I like your smile.
I love your personality.
I love your style.
And last but not least... I love your hart.
Each time I read this card (and I keep it on the refrigerator to be reminded often) I smile broadly, I feel enough. My niece has a knack for the notes. She didn't just write a generic compliment; she noticed specifics, listed them out, and handed them over. It is a perfect, unvarnished proof of love. And reminds me of the power of "Get Love. Give Love." that this LoveYou2 journey has been all about.
The science of staying connected
The impulse (or devotion) to put care into written words was featured in The New York Times piece, The Simple Habit That Can Keep You Connected (this is a gift link, but if you run into a paywall, you can also read it via this archived link).
A few takeaways from the article that resonated with me:
We underestimate the joy it brings: Researchers found that senders consistently underestimate how meaningful a note will be to the receiver, while overestimating how "awkward" it might feel to send. We hold back, but the recipient just feels cared for.
The friction is the point: In a world of instantaneous, friction-free digital messages, taking the time to find paper, write by hand, and get a stamp to mail a card adds tangible weight to our words.
It thrives as a simple habit: The article highlights people who build small routines around writing, not just to mark huge milestones, but simply as an ongoing practice of connection.
You can see people, too
You have the power to see people, too. You can notice something about another that thy might not see about themself, or something they may have forgotten. An easy way to start is thanking people for the routine and mundane ways their being in the world matters to you. Next, you can try writing to people you admire, a few lines about what inspires you. I think some of the most powerful things to see and note to folks are those bits about someone that just are, without any striving.
This is an invitation to leave a proof of love today. Slip a card under a door (or a pillow), leave a note with your tip, or find the smallest card in your house and write the tiniest note to go into the mail. It will light up parts of your brain, and just might thrill someone so much they pin it up to remind them of what can't be seen but can only be felt.