A couple in matching striped shirts seen from behind, holding hands and leaning on each other while looking at the sea

The Five Love Languages: Relationship Wisdom or Pop-Psychology Horoscope?

bywithNo CommentLove & AttractionNewsScience & Myths

Somebody in your life has done the quiz. Perhaps it was you, at eleven at night, with a glass of wine and a suspicious amount of optimism. Within ninety seconds you were informed that your love language is “Words of Affirmation”, that your partner’s is “Acts of Service”, and that every row you have ever had about the dishwasher is, in fact, a translation error.

It is a lovely idea. Slightly too lovely, which is usually the warning sign. So let us do what we always do here: take the thing seriously enough to check whether it holds up, and lightly enough to have a laugh on the way.

Where the five love languages came from

The idea comes from Gary Chapman, an American Baptist pastor and marriage counsellor, whose book The Five Love Languages appeared in 1992. It grew out of what he noticed in the couples who came to him for counselling, not out of a laboratory. That matters. A counsellor’s impressions are a perfectly respectable place to start a theory, but a rather wobbly place to finish one.

The five languages are words of affirmation, quality time, receiving gifts, acts of service and physical touch. The promise is wonderfully neat: each of us has one favourite way of feeling loved, our partner has another, and most relationship misery comes from speaking different dialects at each other. Learn the dialect and peace breaks out.

What the research actually says

In 2024 the relationship scientists Emily Impett, Haeyoung Gideon Park and Amy Muise reviewed the evidence in the journal Current Directions in Psychological Science. The University of Toronto summed up their verdict as little evidence linking the five love languages to healthy relationships. The book rests on three big assumptions, and the research does not back any of them convincingly.

First, that each of us has one preferred love language. When people are not forced to choose between holding hands and being handed a present, they tend to value all five. Chapman’s quiz is built on forced choices, so it will produce a favourite whether or not you had one.

Second, that there are exactly five. Five is a very satisfying number for a book. Real affection is messier: humour, shared projects, being listened to, being forgiven, someone remembering that you hate coriander.

Third, and most importantly, that couples are happier when they speak each other’s preferred language. The research that exists does not show that matching makes couples noticeably happier. It is also worth knowing that the framework grew out of a fairly narrow group of mixed-gender, traditional couples, and was then offered to the rest of humanity.

So why does it feel so true?

Part of the answer is the same trick that keeps horoscopes in business. “You like to feel appreciated and you also enjoy it when people make an effort” is true of practically everyone, which is exactly why it feels like a personal revelation. Add a tidy label, a quiz and a pastel infographic, and you have a product.

There is a more generous explanation too. The quiz gives couples a reason to talk about love in concrete terms, and that conversation is worth far more than the label. Plenty of people have felt closer to a partner after saying, out loud, “it means a lot when you ask about my day”. The credit belongs to the saying, not to the taxonomy.

When the label turns sour

Labels have a nasty habit of going off. “Sorry, I simply don’t speak Quality Time” is a splendid excuse for skipping dinner. “Your language is Gifts, so you are materialistic” is an insult dressed up as insight. And if you decide that your partner’s failure to read your mind is a language barrier, you have found a rather elegant way of never asking for what you want.

What to do instead

Skip the quiz, or take it for fun, and then do the unfashionable thing: ask. What makes you feel loved this month? What would you like more of? What do I do that you could happily live without? Preferences shift with stress, age, children, work and the weather. A language you settled on at a dinner party in March may be out of date by June.

Be generous in all five directions. Say the kind thing, spend the time, bring home the odd silly present, do the washing up, touch each other without it having to lead anywhere. And if asking out loud feels like climbing a cliff, our guide on how to actually talk to each other is a gentler place to start.

How you ask, and how safe it feels to ask, owes a lot to your attachment style. The same goes for the bedroom, where “physical touch” is a rather coy summary: have a look at how to talk about sex. And if you would like to know what a good relationship tends to look like when nobody has bought a quiz, begin with the signs that actually matter.

The point of it all

Love languages make a decent conversation starter and a poor scientific theory. Treat them like a menu, not a diagnosis: order a bit of everything, and ask your partner what they fancy tonight.

Did the quiz get you right, or did it decide you speak “Gifts” because you once enjoyed a bunch of flowers? Tell us in the comments, and do be honest. Your partner may be reading.

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Woman in a red dress playing saxophone, symbolizing why sensual music triggers attraction

Why Do We Find Certain Music Sensual? (Spoiler: It’s Not the Sax’s Fault)

bywithNo CommentLove & AttractionNewsScience & Myths

Sensual music has a strange grip on us: the moment a scene turns romantic, in creeps that inevitable sax solo or aching bassline. If there’s one thing that marketing executives and Hollywood films have drilled into our skulls, it’s that creating a “romantic atmosphere” requires just three simple ingredients: some mood lighting, a bottle of dubious plonk, and a painfully slow musical backing track, usually entrusted to a depressed saxophone or a fretless bass plucking away three miserable notes.

Now, pause for a moment and actually think about it. Why on earth should a collection of acoustic vibrations make you want to start undoing your buttons? Music is, at its cold, mathematical core, nothing more than vibrating air. Yet, depending on where you happen to pop out into the world, that exact same vibrating air can either trigger a cerebral climax or make you want to dive under the bed and hide.

Welcome to the grand theatre of acoustic conditioning.

1. The Saxophone Cliché: When the instrument does all the heavy lifting

Take jazz or commercial R&B. There’s an unwritten rule that if you shove a tenor sax right to the front of the mix, you’ve automatically signed a contract with Eros. But why? A bent bit of brass spitting out air has nothing intrinsically erotic about it. It’s a metal tube with holes in it! And yet, decades of B-movie cinema have trained us like Pavlov’s dogs: we hear a sax and our brains career straight off a cliff intoromantic fantasies. It’s such a knee-jerk reaction it’s almost tragic. Some people reckon it’s down to the name… Sax… Sex… though frankly, that feels a bit rich, even for us…

2. The grand tour of “sonic sin” (and its local absurdities)

If we wander further afield geographically, the whole business becomes utterly farcical. Back home, a Latin rhythm or a bass-heavy bachata is automatically associated with close contact and a heavy dose of hip-swivelling. But try explaining that to a Tibetan monk or a die-hard fan of Bavarian folk music: to them, those exact same frequencies might sound like a funeral march or a bout of trapped wind. Musical sensuality is such an arbitrary cultural construct that we’ve convinced ourselves a certain frequency is “sexy” simply because it’s been rammed down our throats in music videos until we’re blue in the face.

3. The rhythm trap: The inner monkey we refuse to admit to

The biological truth that nobody has the stomach to admit is that “sensual” music exploits a rather brutish shortcut:our heart rateand beats per minute (BPM). When the music slows down and the bassline throbs, our body, which is essentially a leaky bag of water driven byprimal impulses, syncs its pulse to the beat. Translation: it is not Chopin’s harmonic sophistication that’s getting you hot under the collar; it’s your nervous system mistaking a slowed-down 4/4 time signature for a biological invitation to breed. We are so utterly predictable that a poorly calibrated metronome would probably give us butterflies.

Etymological Note (from Say Sexology)

Let’s talk about “Music”. It stems from the Greek mousike, the art of theMuses. And who were the Muses? The daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne (Memory). There you have it: etymology has rumbled us. Music is nothing more than the memory of pleasure translated into sound. There’s nothing magical or divine about it; it’s just our brain taking a memory, wrapping it in a melody, and desperately trying to find profound meaning in four chords played on an endless loop.

The long and the short of it: The Sensual Music Takeaway

Why bother writing about any of this? Because I find it quite comical that people will spunk thousands of pounds on high-end Hi-Fi stereos in the vain hope of “setting the mood,” when you could achieve the exact same effect on our pickled little neurons with any old rhythmic clatter.

The next time you fancy seducing someone with a painstakingly curated “sensual” playlist, just remember: you are merely manipulating a conditioned reflex belonging to an over-evolved ape. Still, come to think of it, as long as it does the trick, who are we to slate the tracklist?

What’s your go-to “romantic” tune that, with the benefit of hindsight, is enough to make a cat laugh? Or do you genuinely reckon Barry White is to blame every time you fall head over heels? Let me know in the comments!

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Man sunbathing in swim trunks under a leopard print towel, representing the biological pull of physical attraction

The Anatomy of Attraction: Why We’re Drawn to Things That Should Have Us Running for the Hills

bywithNo CommentLove & AttractionNewsScience & Myths

Take a look around. People are coupling up, falling in love, suffering, and getting married, all driven byphysical attractionand a series of biological impulses that, if subjected to even a shred of logic, would see the lot of us carted off to the nearest asylum. We’re drawn to a hair colour, a specific curve, or an inch of skin as if we were being steered by a malfunctioning algorithm.

Welcome to the circus ofevolutionary biology, where good taste was clearly never invited to the party.

1. Blonde, Brunette, or just plain desperate?

Why the obsession with blonde versus brunette? Science would waffle on about “genetic recognition” or “health signals.” The truth? We’re human beings; we get bored easily and we have a desperate need to categorise the marketplace. In reality, the preference for a hair colour is often just a conditioned reflex born of films, media, and that sense of the “exotic” that gives us the thrill of owning something different from the usual. It’s catalogue aesthetics masquerading as destiny.

2. The allure of the “drainpipe” (or the logic of the posterior)

Let’s put this plainly: we are the only species that has elevated the locus of biological waste to a monument of physical attraction. Biologically speaking, it’s akin to an architect deciding to build the grand entrance to a cathedral right on top of the local refuse tip. Yet, here we are, celebrating the shape and volume of a body part that serves… well, an “exit-only” function. It’s the triumph of the irrational: nature has planted visual cues there so potent that they make the brain conveniently forget that, yes, that is the building site. It’s an evolutionary laugh of epic proportions.

3. The breast: Lactation turned into a luxury gadget

And then there’s the bust. Biologically, its purpose is to nourish the offspring. But our evolution decided that wasn’t quite enough: it had to become the object of desire par excellence. We’re obsessed with a body part that has a nutritional function, which we’ve re-purposed into an icon of pure visual entertainment. It’s as if a car were designed for racing, but people were queuing up specifically to admire the fuel cap. Logic is entirely absent, but who gives a damn about logic when the hormones are in the driving seat?

4. Fetishising the “non-sexual” zones

Why might a man lose his head over an exposed neck, or a woman over a man’s hands? Because the human body is a puzzle where every piece is potentially explosive. Attraction to “neutral” body parts is the final proof that human sexuality isn’t abouterogenous zones, but about mental projection. We turn the banal into the forbidden, the common into the extraordinary. It’s an act of extreme creativity: we take an anatomical feature that has bugger all to do with procreation and build a castle of desire upon it.

Etymological Note (from Say Sexology)

Let’s look at the word “Sex”. It stems from the Latin sexus, which literally means “division” or “cutting.” It’s brilliant. Our entire love life, our obsession with glutes and breasts, our aesthetic preferences: all of it revolves around a word that means “to cut in two.” And that’s precisely the result: we divide ourselves, we slice ourselves up, and we scramble desperately to piece the puzzle back together, only to end up arguing over which hair colour is more fetching.

The point of it all

Why write about this? Because the day we stop laughing at the absurdities that draw us together is the day we become robots, prisoners of our own biology. We’re attracted to the ridiculous, we admire the functional, and when it comes to physical attraction, we get lost in details that hold no sense whatsoever.

The next time you find yourself “inevitably drawn” to someone, do yourself a favour: have a giggle at your own biological stupidity. We’re just evolved monkeys trying to maintain a veneer of sophistication whilst chasing shadows. It’s ridiculous. It’s marvellous. And, unfortunately, it’s the only thing keeping us going.

What’s the most “nonsensical” body part that sends you into a spin? Or do you fancy yourself immune to these biological traps? Let me know in the comments, but do try to be honest!

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Mysterious couple embracing in a moody studio shot, illustrating jealousy and comparison in relationships

Rebecca Syndrome: When the Ex becomes the third wheel (and you’re the one inviting them to dinner)

bywithNo CommentLove & AttractionNews

There are those who wake up, have a decent cup of tea, and crack on with their day.

Then there are those who, before even opening their eyes, have already stalked their partner’s ex on Instagram, scrolling all the way back to 2017 to deduce if that “like” was a declaration of lingering passion or just a clumsy thumb-slip.

Welcome to the delightful world of what psychologists callretroactive jealousy, or, as we prefer, Rebecca Syndrome.

1. Who is Rebecca? (Spoiler: not who you think)

For those who’ve managed to dodge Daphne du Maurier’s novel or Hitchcock’s film, Rebecca is Mr. De Winter’s deceased first wife. She isn’t actually there, yet she’s everywhere. Her shadow is so suffocating that the second Mrs. De Winter slowly loses her marbles, frantically competing with a ghost who is, by definition, utterly perfect.

Today, however, you don’t need to be a tragic figure in a gothic manor. A smartphone will do. Your “Rebecca” might be an ex from university, someone he met at a wedding in 2021, or, worse, a vague recurring character popping up in a mutual friend’s Stories. Rebecca Syndrome is the modernised version of obsession: the desperate, futile search for a non-existent perfection that the other person supposedly possessed, and which you, obviously, will never live up to.

2. Digital Archaeology (The degree you didn’t know you had)

A sufferer of Rebecca Syndrome develops talents that would make MI6 look like amateurs. You know who her friends are, what music he listened to when they were together, where they went on holiday, and, most importantly, you’ve memorised every single photo where she looks vaguely radiant.

It’s a pursuit that requires true grit: you spend hours comparing your selfies to her throwbacks. “Is she thinner? No, she’s just better at posing. And what about that cryptic comment under the 2019 photo? Was it a secret code?” Congratulations: you’ve just spent your Tuesday evening competing with a mirage.

3. The trap: Racing against a ghost

The most hilarious, and frankly tragic, part is that Rebecca, in your partner’s head, probably doesn’t exist anymore. Or, if she does, she’s a memory conveniently airbrushed by time. Competing with the past is the world’s most pointless race: it’s like trying to beat a faded photograph in a marathon. You can’t defeat her because she isn’t actually running. She is stuck, frozen in a time when arguments over who’s doing the washing-up hadn’t yet become your daily reality.

Etymological Note (from Say Sexology)

Since we have a habit of weighing our words: Syndrome. From the Greek sýndromos, meaning “running together”. Precisely. Rebecca Syndrome is exactly that: your brain andyour insecuritiesrunning headlong towards a cliff, dragging your dignity (and, in 99% of cases, your partner’s sanity) down with them.

The point of it all

Why write about this? Because I find it quite comical how we let ourselves be eaten alive by people who, quite frankly,split up for very good reasonsand currently hold as much importance as a defunct phone number in an old contacts list.

The next time you feel the urge to investigate what your partner’s ex is up to, have a drink. Better yet, buy your partner one. They’re the one currently with you, aren’t they? Rebecca was the past; you are the present. And if you persist in playing the digital archaeologist, your partner might just start preferring the relics to you.

Have you ever been a private investigator in the name of love? Or is there a “Rebecca” still haunting your digital corridors? Let me know in the comments. I promise not to tell your partner you were here spying!

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