I hadn’t been to Disneyland since I was about five years old, which basically means this trip felt like going for the first time. I didn’t remember anything except that I liked Cars Land as a kid. That’s it. Everything else was completely unfamiliar to me.

This trip was actually a birthday gift from my friend Braden, which already made it special before we even got there. The funny part is that I was probably more excited than most of the kids in the park. For the past year I’ve been talking about Disneyland like it’s some faraway, unattainable dream. At least twice a month I would bring it up. So when the day finally came, I was genuinely thrilled.

Honestly, I had to resist the urge to skip everywhere. I was so happy that I kept feeling like I should just spin in a dramatic circle in the middle of the park like I was in a movie. I didn’t do it because I think I would’ve gotten some very strange looks, but the urge was definitely there all day.

The day didn’t start out perfectly though. Within minutes of getting to the parking lot I accidentally hit someone’s car with my door. I was too scared to get out and apologize, so I just sat there hoping the universe would forgive me. Luckily that ended up being the only flaw in the entire day.

At one point Chris started a whole conversation about what roles we would have if we had a podcast together. According to him, Braden would obviously be the voice of reason. That part makes sense. But he also suggested that I would be the one just saying crazy things all the time, which I’m not sure I agree with. I feel like I’m being slightly misrepresented.

For lunch I got a kids meal and it was honestly fire. I forgot how much I prefer kids meals to regular meals. Something about the fact that they’re cheaper just makes them taste better. Also the portion size is perfect. Adult meals are honestly doing too much sometimes.

I also discovered something important about myself: I don’t think I’m afraid of heights until I’m actually on something high. The Ferris wheel proved that. While we were up there I was suddenly very aware of how far off the ground we were and I was low-key anxious the entire time.

Another mission of the day was trying to find Scarlett Witch ears. The problem is that the only Disney shirt I own is a Scarlett Witch shirt, so I thought it would make sense to find matching ears. Apparently that was a delusional plan because when I asked an employee in a gift shop, they literally laughed at me and said that basically everyone hates her. I’m still processing that.

One thing that really surprised me was how much I loved the Star Wars ride. I don’t actually know anything about Star Wars lore, but the ride and the whole themed area were amazing. It honestly made me consider finally watching the movies at some point, because clearly I’m missing out.

Splash Mountain also deserves a mention because Braden specifically asked for the “less wet” seat and still ended up pretty soaked. So I’m starting to think the “less wet” option might just be emotional support.

At the end of the night when the park closed, instead of calmly walking out like normal adults, me, Chris, and Braden raced each other out of the park. For some reason I felt no shame, and didn’t even think about the fact I was probably being judged by a lot of parents.

Overall it was honestly one of the happiest days I’ve had in a while. After talking about going to Disneyland for a whole year like it was some impossible dream, it was pretty surreal to actually be there with my friends.

And now that I’ve been once… I’m probably about to start talking about going back again.

What is Romance?

The other day I found myself wondering what romance actually is.

Not love.

Not attraction.

Romance.

It’s one of those words we use constantly but rarely define. We talk about romantic relationships, romantic chemistry, romantic gestures, and romantic feelings, but if someone asked me to explain what makes something romantic, I’m not sure I could have answered.

At first, I thought romance might just be emotional connection.

But that didn’t make sense.

I have emotional connections with my friends. Some of my friendships involve deep conversations, vulnerability, trust, and a level of understanding that took years to build. Those relationships are meaningful, but nobody would describe them as romantic.

Then I thought maybe romance was where emotional connection meets sexual attraction.

That didn’t feel right either.

People can be physically attracted to each other without experiencing anything I would call romance. Attraction can exist all by itself.

So if romance isn’t emotional connection and it isn’t sexual attraction, what exactly is it?

I think I accidentally found my answer while thinking about stargazing.

For some reason, stargazing is considered one of the most romantic things two people can do together. It’s in movies, books, television shows, and every list of date ideas ever created.

But I’ve stargazed with friends before.

Nobody thought it was romantic.

We were looking at the same stars. Sitting in the same silence. Having the same kind of deep conversations people associate with romantic moments.

So what changed?

I think the answer is anticipation.

When you’re stargazing with a friend, you’re enjoying the moment for what it is.

When you’re stargazing with someone you have feelings for, you’re wondering.

Will they move closer?

Will they grab my hand?

Will they kiss me?

Do they feel the same way I do?

The stars haven’t changed.

The anticipation has.

The more I thought about it, the more examples I found.

A good morning text from a friend is sweet.

A good morning text from someone you’re interested in can have you staring at your phone smiling like an idiot.

Walking someone to their car isn’t inherently romantic.

Neither is sharing a meal.

Neither is sitting next to someone on a couch.

Yet somehow all of those things can feel romantic under the right circumstances.

Not because of the action itself.

Because of the possibility attached to it.

I think part of the confusion comes from the fact that we tend to lump emotional connection, sexual connection, and romance into the same category when they’re actually different experiences.

Emotional connection is about feeling understood.

Sexual connection is about desire.

Romance is about possibility.

Sometimes all three happen at once.

Sometimes only one exists.

I can have emotional intimacy with a friend and feel absolutely no romance.

I can experience sexual attraction without feeling emotionally connected.

And I think I can even experience romance before either of those things fully develop.

In fact, I think that’s what a crush often is.

You’re not deeply connected yet.

You may not even know if the attraction is real.

What you’re experiencing is fascination with the possibility of what could happen.

And that’s where I started thinking about the difference between romance and love.

I don’t think they’re the same thing.

I think love is rooted in reality.

Romance is rooted in possibility.

Love is about knowing.

Romance is about wondering.

You can’t deeply love someone you barely know. Love requires familiarity. It requires seeing a person clearly and choosing them anyway.

Romance doesn’t require that.

Romance thrives in the space where you’re still discovering someone.

The first date.

The first kiss.

The first time you stay up until two in the morning talking.

The first time you wonder if they’re thinking about you too.

All of those moments are powered by one question:

What if?

What if they like me?

What if this becomes something?

What if this person changes my life?

That’s romance.

And I think that’s why a dynamic can feel romantic without being love.

Just because you’re experiencing romance doesn’t mean you’re in love.

It might simply mean you’re fascinated by the possibility of what could happen.

That’s why crushes feel romantic.

That’s why flirting feels romantic.

That’s why almost-relationships feel romantic.

Sometimes people aren’t in love with a person.

They’re in love with the question mark.

They’re captivated by the potential.

They’re fascinated by the story they haven’t gotten to the end of yet.

What’s interesting is that I think the opposite can happen too.

You can have emotional connection and sexual connection without romance.

Long-term relationships sometimes experience this.

The emotional intimacy is there.

The attraction is there.

But the anticipation is gone.

Nobody is wondering anymore.

Nobody is discovering anything new.

Nobody is asking “what if?”

The relationship has moved from possibility to certainty.

Maybe that’s why people say they want to “bring the romance back.”

They’re usually not asking for more love.

And they’re not necessarily asking for more attraction.

They’re asking for more anticipation.

More mystery.

More curiosity.

More moments that remind them what it felt like to wonder.

For a long time, I thought romance was flowers, candlelit dinners, and grand gestures.

Now I think those things are just expressions of romance.

The romance itself is something else.

It’s the tension between what is happening and what might happen.

It’s possibility.

It’s anticipation.

Which would explain why stargazing can feel completely platonic one night and deeply romantic the next.

The stars never changed.

The meaning did.