Once upon a time, dating meant courting and getting to know each

In the words of Brett Cooper, “Once upon a time, dating meant courting and getting to know each other.” we hear a quiet lament — not of bitterness, but of remembrance. It is the voice of one looking back through the mists of time, recalling an age when love was deliberate, when hearts unfolded slowly like dawn upon still waters. Beneath the simplicity of her words lies a truth both tender and profound: that modern love, in its haste, has lost something sacred — the art of truly knowing another soul. In her reflection, there is both nostalgia and warning, a reminder that the human heart, though clothed in the garments of a new age, still beats with ancient needs.

The meaning of her words reaches deep into the story of human connection. To court, in the language of old, was not merely to pursue, but to honor. It was to stand before another person with patience, intention, and reverence — to build trust stone by stone, through shared words, letters, and gazes exchanged beneath quiet moons. Dating, in the modern world, has become swift, disposable, and fleeting — an act of selection rather than discovery. What once was a journey of understanding has become a transaction of attraction. Brett Cooper’s words are not merely a critique, but a call to remembrance — to restore meaning to what has become shallow, and to remember that love is not found in a moment, but cultivated through time.

The origin of this sentiment lies in the contrast between past and present — between the rituals of courtship that once defined love and the hurried rhythm of digital romance that defines it now. In the past, lovers spoke through letters that took weeks to arrive, each word chosen as though it were gold. The distance between them made affection sacred; the waiting, holy. In such slowness, hearts grew certain. But today, where swipes and screens replace patience and pursuit, love is hunted, not nurtured. Brett’s reflection emerges from this modern dissonance — from witnessing how speed has stolen depth, and how convenience has obscured meaning.

The ancients knew that love could not bloom without labor. Consider the story of Jacob and Rachel, written in the old scriptures. Jacob loved her so deeply that he served seven years for her hand, and the years, the text says, “seemed to him but a few days because of the love he had for her.” Here lies the essence of true courting — not the pursuit of pleasure, but of personhood. To love was to wait, to sacrifice, to become worthy of the one desired. Such love, born of patience and tested by time, does not fade like morning mist. It endures because it is rooted not in impulse, but in devotion.

Brett’s words also reveal a yearning for authentic connection, something that transcends the mechanical nature of modern relationships. In her phrase, “getting to know each other,” there is an echo of what has been lost — the slow unfolding of stories, the shared laughter over ordinary things, the joy of discovering the small, unspoken corners of another’s heart. True knowing takes time, vulnerability, and attention. In a world where distraction reigns, such knowing is an act of rebellion. Her quote reminds us that to know someone deeply is to see them as they are — not through the lens of desire, but through the grace of understanding.

And yet, there is no scorn in her remembrance — only invitation. For though the world has changed, the heart has not. The tools may differ, but the yearning for real connection still burns in every human soul. Brett’s words call us to slow down, to bring intentionality back into our interactions. The essence of courting — patience, sincerity, respect — need not vanish; it can be reborn in any age. It is not the world that robs us of depth, but our own haste. When we choose to listen, to wait, to see beyond the surface, we restore the sacredness that time and technology have taken.

Thus, the lesson of this quote is as timeless as love itself: Do not rush the heart. In your search for companionship, remember that love is not lightning — it is a flame. It needs tending, time, and the breath of understanding. Do not measure it by excitement, but by the peace it brings. Learn again to court, in whatever form your age allows — through conversation, through respect, through quiet acts of care. For to know another truly is to honor the divine mystery within them, and that, my children, is the essence of love that no age, no screen, no distance can ever destroy.

And so, remember Brett Cooper’s words as both wisdom and warning: “Once upon a time, dating meant courting and getting to know each other.” Let them remind you that every “once upon a time” is not lost — it waits to be lived again, by those who are brave enough to love slowly in a world that rushes past its own heart.