I once watched a matchmaking TV show that featured couples who got into love marriages and arranged marriages.
The surprise wasn’t only that the arranged marriages mostly worked.
It was that they endured—happier, even—almost unbelievably so.
So I kept wondering: what went wrong, and what went right?
The love marriage must have committed to love.
Not to patience. Not to responsibility. Not to practicality. Not to “what will we do when the feeling quiets.”
They committed to love — the feeling, the excitement, the emotional high, the romance.
And when the feeling faded — as feelings do — the marriage faded with it.
Not because they didn’t love enough.
Because they only love (noun) — and forget to love (verb).
Perhaps the arranged marriage also committed to love.
But a different love.
Not the feeling — the action.
Not the excitement — the commitment.
Not the high — the effort.
Not what they felt — what they prepared to do.
They respected. They listened. They served. They stayed when staying was quiet.
They acted — until it was felt.
And love grew — not because they chased it, but because they built a container strong enough to hold it.
The commitment to love is what went wrong.
And the same commitment to love is what went right.
Not because love changed.
Because what they committed to changed.
One committed to a feeling.
One committed to a practice.
And that one word — love — hid all the difference.