Romantic lovers require from each other at least the facade of

The words of Maggie Gallagher uncover one of the deepest mysteries of love: “Romantic lovers require from each other at least the facade of reason: We desire to be what romantic love makes us appear in the other’s eyes. We want to imagine we are deserving of the love we inspire.” In this truth, she reveals that love is not merely a gift of the heart but also a mirror. For in romance, we long not only to be loved, but to appear worthy of that love. We hunger for the illusion—and often the reality—that we are as noble, beautiful, and virtuous as our beloved believes us to be.

The ancients understood this paradox. Plato wrote of eros as the fire that awakens the soul to pursue higher things. To be loved romantically was not only to be desired, but to be called upward, to be reminded of a greatness within that one often forgets. Gallagher echoes this thought: in love, we wish to match the vision our beloved holds of us, even if it is but a facade of reason. We strive to become the reflection of their gaze, hoping that in this striving we may truly become what they already see.

Consider the story of Abelard and Heloise in the twelfth century. Abelard, the famed philosopher, and Heloise, the brilliant student, saw in one another more than flesh—they saw vision, intellect, and spirit. Heloise adored Abelard not only for who he was but for what she believed him capable of. Abelard, in turn, longed to be worthy of her admiration. Their love was tragic, torn by fate and scandal, yet it revealed the same truth Gallagher speaks of: to be loved is to feel compelled to rise, to prove oneself worthy of the devotion given.

There is also a shadow in her words. For though love inspires, it also demands. If we cannot bear the gaze of our beloved, if we feel unworthy of their devotion, we may falter under its weight. Thus, Gallagher calls it a facade of reason—we do not always truly become the noble vision our lover sees, but we must at least attempt to carry its appearance. This is not deceit, but a kind of sacred performance, in which we seek to honor the one who has given us love by becoming what they believe us to be.

The beauty of this truth is that it ennobles love. For in romance, we are not content merely to be ourselves—we strive to be better, kinder, braver, more beautiful. We want to deserve the love we inspire, to be worthy of it. And though perfection eludes us, the striving itself transforms us. As iron sharpens iron, so the gaze of a lover shapes the soul, pushing it beyond what it thought possible.

The lesson is clear: if you are loved, let that love call you upward. Do not scorn the mirror of romance, for it reveals a vision of your best self. Strive to live in such a way that you honor the trust, the admiration, and the devotion of your beloved. Love should not be taken for granted as a casual gift, but embraced as a sacred responsibility, one that asks you to grow into the greatness another already sees within you.

Therefore, let all who hear take action: when you are loved, ask yourself, “How may I become worthy of this?” When you love, offer not only affection, but also vision—see your beloved not only as they are, but as they might become. In this way, love ceases to be a fleeting passion and becomes a forge, crafting nobility in both hearts.

Thus Maggie Gallagher’s words endure as a compass for lovers across time: romance requires us to become what love believes us to be. It is not mere illusion, but a calling—one that, if embraced, transforms ordinary men and women into the best versions of themselves, all through the gaze of the one who loves them.