From Fabio to Folding Laundry: Redefining Romance

When my publisher listed From This Day Forward as a romance, I cringed a little. I don’t think of myself as a romance writer. I didn’t write Jay and Emmaline’s story with steamy scenes or grand gestures in mind. To me, romance novels meant shirtless men on covers, dramatic meet-cutes, and sweeping love stories with tidy endings.

But as I stood at my Barnes & Noble book signing last weekend, describing the story over and over, something hit me:

Maybe it is a romance. Just not the kind I grew up imagining.

Jay and Emmaline’s love story is raw, real, and tested by tragedy. It’s about how newlyweds navigate the unexpected—and discover what love looks like when it’s stripped down to the everyday. There’s no winery weekend or candlelit seduction. There’s survival. There’s heartbreak. And there’s a quiet kind of devotion that doesn’t always have words—but never disappears.

As my husband and I near our 24th anniversary, I’ve found myself asking: What is romance, really?

For me, it’s not flower petals or champagne. It’s coffee brought to me in bed. It’s sitting side by side on the back deck at dusk, no words needed. It’s him quietly taking the heavy grocery bag from my hand so I don’t have to carry it alone.

A couple of years ago, I met a young woman on a yoga retreat who said, “I don’t know if I’m ready to go back to my boyfriend. The romance is gone.”

She wanted passion and butterflies. I told her that might fade—but something better could take its place.

Romance matures. It shows up in small gestures: a hand on your back while you do the dishes. A forehead kiss. Takeout after a hard day. Laundry folded without asking. These aren’t fireworks—but they’re enduring. They whisper, I’m still here. I’ve got you.

So maybe From This Day Forward is a romance after all—just the quiet kind. The kind built not on fantasy, but on presence. The Cambridge Dictionary defines romance as:

          “The feeling of comfort and pleasure you experience in a relationship with someone you love.”

By that definition… yes. Jay and Emmaline’s story is a romance.

And maybe yours is, too.

So what does romance mean to you? I’d love to hear your thoughts. Leave a comment and share your version of love.

With love,

Wendy