Consistency as Love Language
A tale of salmon and steadfastness
The other night I serendipitously stumbled upon a new love language.
I was on a date (which is not the point of this story, but context matters) and we talked, we laughed, and suddenly, it was well past dinner time.
Starving, we debated food delivery.
Knowing it would take a while, I asked what he would eat if I weren’t there.
“Oh, I have some fruit and shrimp from an event this week. Probably that,” he said.
At 8 p.m., I’m not picky (I’m actually never picky but that’s a different article) I nodded, completely on board.
Then, almost as an afterthought, he mused, mostly to himself: Oh yes, and there is that salmon.
And just like that, my love language was born.
Turns out, nothing says Girl I see you and I love you quite like proffering an industrial-sized catering container filled to the brim with grilled salmon!
But really, beneath the salmon revelation, what I recognized was the love language I’ve always responded to: consistency.
We’ll return to this story later.
The below while filled with a bit of hyperbole is spot on for me.
And maybe you.
There's something deeply comforting when we know exactly what we want, yes?
Like having salmon every night of the week and feeling your heart flutter with the same intensity as the first bite. And while Gary Chapman gave us the classic five love languages, I'd like to propose a sixth: the love language of consistency.
Think about it: in a world of endless choices and constant change, there's something undeniably sexy about reliability.
It's not about being boring or predictable; it's about creating a rhythm that allows both people to truly e x h a l e. When you find someone who shows up, really shows up, day after day, it's like that perfectly grilled piece of salmon: golden-crusted on the outside, tender and warm within.
This love language speaks in quiet ways. It's the partner who knows exactly how you drink your coffee without asking because they've paid attention each morning. It's in the way they silently slide a book onto your nightstand when they notice you're almost finished with your current read, remembering a passing comment you made weeks ago about wanting to read it.
There's comfort in the knowing, in the gentle certainty of showing up, day after day.
Consistency as a love language goes beyond daily rituals. It's about emotional reliability: being the person who responds to texts not out of obligation, but because you genuinely want to maintain that connection.
It's about showing up for the small moments with the same enthusiasm as the big ones. Like my salmon, which offers its rich omega-3s and protein faithfully with every serving, consistent love nourishes us in ways we don't always consciously register.
And here’s where consistency really shines as a love language: in the art of growth together. When you have a reliable foundation, you can actually be *more* spontaneous, more adventurous. It's paradoxical, but true. When you know your partner will be there no matter what it gives you the confidence to try new things, to be vulnerable, to evolve.
This is when predictability becomes a launching pad for unpredictable joy.
To stretch my LL assertion even more to its breaking point there are 2 other manifestations of consistency as a love language:
There's the language of shared rituals and alllll those little ceremonies you create together. These aren't obligations; they're touchstones that say "I choose this, I choose you, again and again."
round TWO of salmon? YES PLEASE
And there's consistency of growth. The commitment to learning each other and WITH each other continuously. Like a chef who's made salmon a thousand times but still finds new ways to perfect the dish consistent connection means never stopping the discovery process. It's asking questions even when you think you know all the answers, staying curious about the person who shares your life.
In the end, maybe consistency is less about predictability and more about presence. It's about creating a space where both people can be fully themselves, knowing that their foundation is solid.
Like my beloved salmon, reliable, nourishing, yet somehow still exciting after all this time, consistency as a LL offers us something rare in this chaotic world: a place to belong.
And isn't that the sexiest thing of all?
Oh, and the salmon dinner date? Together, we searched how to freeze the rest of the steaks, he wrapped them later that night (acts of service?), and we met up midweek for salmon round two.
Still as good. Still as consistent. Still my kind of love language.