Evergreen Reads to Empower Your Mind
The Standard Sister
Note no.29
LOVE
Feb 16, 2026
Hello Stranger
This Valentine’s, simply talking about love didn’t feel like enough. In a world where everything is constantly shifting, we wanted to investigate what love actually means today. What happens in our brains when we fall in love, and why does heartbreak feel, quite literally, like hell?
With anthropologist Helen Fisher and psychotherapist Esther Perel as my guides, this piece follows a fascinating thread that leads to a critical question: Is it really possible for love—one of our most ancient, primal biological emotions—to change along with us?
Ancient Love, Modern Self
Essay by The Standard Sister
"Parting is all we know of heaven, and all we need of hell," wrote Emily Dickinson, and in one sentence, she pinpointed exactly what science has been trying to decipher for decades: how love operates on us. One thing is certain: romantic love is not a polite or apologetic emotion. It is a survival drive, the place where the human brain—so sophisticated in every other aspect—sheds its tailored suit and returns to nature, to the wild. The emotion of love has worn many shapes throughout history, with couplehood being one of its central forms. In this piece, we reveal how the romantic spark has stood firm against the upheavals of civilization, remaining a fierce existential drive even as the forms of connection around it have shifted. This leads us to the central question: What is the complex relationship between our ancient brain and our changing modern culture? Anthropologist Helen Fisher (1945–2024), a pioneer in the neurobiology of love and a researcher at Rutgers University, didn't settle for romantic poetry. Through a series of groundbreaking studies, she put lovers into fMRI machines to observe the brain in real time. She scanned the brains of young people "head over heels" in love, and later expanded her research to include those experiencing heartbreak and couples who had been together for decades. Her findings were backed by a comprehensive 1992 anthropological study surveying 166 different cultures throughout history—from the jungles of the Amazon to the cities of the West. The conclusion was decisive: Love is universal. Clear evidence of romantic love was found in 147 of these cultures. No tribe and no era has managed to escape its power. This led Fisher to determine that love is a biological universal, not a cultural invention. One of the most sensational discoveries in her research was the
Katie Benn
location. The electrical activity of love does not take place in the regions that evolved later, those responsible for logic and planning. Instead, it happens deep in the base, in the most primordial, ancient part of the brain (the VTA). This is the same area that manufactures dopamine and is responsible for our most basic drives: motivation, focus, and craving. In fact, the scans revealed that love activates the exact same regions that light up during the use of addictive substances. We aren't just using metaphors of "addiction" when we fall in love—we are truly addicted. The brain is flooded with an intoxicating cocktail of dopamine, serotonin, estrogen, and testosterone, while simultaneously, the part responsible for judgment is simply silenced. Someone, as Fisher described it, "sets up camp in your brain." It is no coincidence that Plato said, "The god of love lives in a state of need. It is a need. It is an urge. It is a homeostatic imbalance. Like hunger and thirst, it’s almost impossible to stamp out." But while the biological mechanism has remained almost unchanged, culture has drastically altered the "vessel" that holds it. Our ancient brain is still as thirsty for love as it was thousands of years ago, but the modern "Self" has set a completely new bar. Psychotherapist Esther Perel,
one of the most prominent voices in modern relationship research, sharpens this point: The "Self" was always central, but the currency has changed. If in the past, marriage was a 'survival deal' designed to serve physical security (a roof, lineage, status), today, marriage has become an ambitious project designed to serve the Soul. Today, we demand that one person provide what an entire village once did: to be our best friend, our passionate lover, our economic partner, our empathetic psychologist, and our career mentor. In the Wellness era, which sanctifies personal happiness as the Holy Grail, our expectation of a partner has shifted from "Partner in Life" to "Provider of Spiritual Needs." We aren't just looking for someone to help us survive the winter, but someone to help us become the best version of ourselves.
This shift turns love from a 'Crutch' (something to lean on so we don't fall) into a 'Mirror' (through which we check who we are). And herein lies the greatest trap: When the contract was economic, a breakup was a financial crisis. Today, when the contract is psychological, a breakup is an identity collapse. When the other leaves, they take our self-worth with them. Love in its new form is under immense atmospheric pressure; it is required to bear a weight it was never designed to carry, which often leads to chronic disappointment—because no single human being can be everything. Another thing that has changed is the nature of infidelity. In the past, betrayal was a way to find love; since marriage was often a dry economic arrangement, the forbidden affair was where emotion bloomed. Today, the situation is reversed: Marriage is supposed to provide us with everything—security, friendship, passion, and mystery. Therefore, betrayal has become the most forbidden and destructive act—it shatters the dream of "The One" who completes us. During a breakup or betrayal, the brain enters feverish activity in that same love-struck and pained region, craving the lost lover even more intensely. It seems the Roman poet Terence was precise when he wrote: "The less my hope, the hotter my love." In addition to cultural shifts, Helen Fisher points out archaic gender differences that remain etched within us: While women cultivate intimacy through face-to-face conversation (an evolutionary remnant of the maternal gaze), men find closeness sitting "side-by-side," their gaze directed forward at the horizon, like hunters waiting together in ambush. These differences peak during times of conflict. For most women, words are the bridge to the body: to smooth things over and desire touch, they need conversation, listening, and a sense of verbal safety. For many men, the equation is completely reversed: The body is the bridge to the heart. They need sex and physical touch to lower their defenses, feel emotionally connected, and only then—perhaps—talk. This might be why men, visual creatures by nature, fall in love faster, and tragically, also crash harder when love ends—as they often find it harder to secure emotional intimacy outside of a romantic relationship. So, how do we survive this evolution and the massive weight of pressure our culture has placed on this ancient emotion? Can we even love as wildly as we did in the past, or are the filters of the "Self" too strong? In her research on couples who maintained a burning love for decades, Fisher found that the secret doesn't lie in endless soul-searching conversations, but rather in a return to biology—to the chemistry of the everyday. If we want to preserve the essence of love, we need to activate the body: through constant physical touch that calms the nervous system; by doing new things together to trigger dopamine; and through sex, which acts as a hormonal fountain of youth. But above all, it seems the key lies in the ability to choose "Positive Illusion"—the conscious decision to ignore the imperfect and turn the spotlight, like a powerful beam, onto what is there.