When Your Love Feels Unseen : How To Bridge The Gap Between Different Emotional Languages

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Nandita and Arjun weren't opposites. Not exactly. They liked the same kind of movies - quiet ones, where nothing really happened but everything changed. They both loved late-night drives and hot chai when it rained. But when it came to expressing love, they might as well have spoken different languages.

Arjun was steady. Reliable. The kind of man who folded his towel without being asked, who changed the bedsheets every Sunday morning before she even noticed they needed changing. He woke up early to make her coffee, always knowing whether she needed it black or sweet that day. He did her share of the chores when she had deadlines, and he never made a fuss about it.

On weekends, he'd sit with her in the kitchen, chopping vegetables while she cooked, asking about her college stories like he hadn't heard them before.

She never had to ask twice for help. Never had to raise her voice. Arjun listened, really listened and never interrupted, never dismissed her thoughts.

And yet, when it came to gestures, the kind that left butterflies in your stomach, he remained blank.

No surprises or gifts. No handwritten notes. Not once had he come home with flowers or planned a spontaneous date. He never called her beautiful out of the blue, never uttered "I love you" without it being pulled out of him during some emotional high tide.

Nandita tried not to mind.

On his birthday, she decorated their tiny living room with lights, set up a projector for an old film he loved, and gave him a new guitar, the one he'd mentioned months ago and never brought up again.

She had expected him to hug her and kiss her forehead romantically for her gesture. But he merely smiled, saying, "You are a gem, thank you so much Nandu." It was so Arjun - kind, appreciative, but emotionally distant.

Nandita then waited for him to remember hers. To do something, anything that said, I see you, I feel you and I love you.

But when her birthday came and went with just a half-hearted "We'll go out tomorrow, okay?" she couldn't push it down anymore.

It wasn't about the gifts. It was that he never planned anything. Never anticipated her. Never took the initiative to celebrate her not the way she celebrated him.

The worst part? He still helped her with the laundry that day. Still folded the clothes neatly, making sure her kurtas were ironed right.

And she hated that she was mad at a man who was so good to her in every way except the one she craved most.

That night, while he slept beside her, peaceful as ever, Nandita lay awake. Her heart was full, but not with love, with loneliness. A quiet kind that came from being right next to someone and still feeling unnoticed.

The next morning, she packed a small bag, left him a note that simply said "I need some time," and went to her mother's house.

Arjun didn't call her immediately. He wasn't the kind of man who chased. He gave space, maybe too much of it.

But on the third day, he showed up.

He didn't bring flowers, just a paper bag with her favorite punjabi samosas from the place near their flat.

Arjun didn't say much at first. Just sat with her on the steps of her mother's porch, looking tired, like he hadn't been sleeping well.

"I didn't think you'd leave," he finally said.

"I didn't think you'd forget," she replied.

"I didn't forget your birthday," he said. "I just didn't think you wanted a party. I thought we could just go out and eat the next day"

She looked at him, trying not to cry. "It's not about a party, Arjun. It's about effort. You don't have to know what to do. You just have to try. You do so much for me and I see that. You are love. But I need to feel it too. In my language."

He looked down at his hands, "I just thought being there every day with you would be enough."

"It's enough for you," she said gently. "But I need more. I need to be seen in the way I see you."

He was quiet for a long time. Then he nodded.

"I'm not good at the romantic stuff," he admitted. "But I can learn. For you, I'll learn."

The next few weeks weren't magic and violins. But they were different.

A small note in her lunchbox.

A playlist he made for her - awkward, full of old songs, but sweet.

One evening, he made dinner. Burnt the dal. But lit a candle in the middle of the table.

And she knew. He was trying.

He still didn't say "I love you" often. But he started saying, "You looked nice today," or "I missed you," or just pulling her into a hug when she didn't expect it.

And Nandita started to see that love didn't have to look like the movies. It could look like a man doing the dishes without being asked. Or remembering how she likes her tea. Or writing down "Happy birthday" on a napkin and stuffing it in her bag so she'd find it at work.

They were learning. Together.

And slowly, beautifully, it started to feel like they were falling in love... all over again.

What Nandita And Arjun Teach Us About Speaking Different Love Languages

Grasping your partner's love language can be the quiet miracle your relationship needs - particularly when it doesn't match your own. The five love languages, coined by author and pastor Dr Gary Chapman, outlines five distinct ways people express and receive love: words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, receiving gifts, and physical touch. While it sounds simple, navigating these differences in a marriage or long-term relationship can be anything but.

Take Nandita and Arjun, for instance, a fictional couple whose story highlights the subtle yet profound disconnection that can arise when love is spoken in two different 'languages'. Their struggles reflect the very real challenge many couples face - how do you feel seen and loved when your partner's way of expressing love doesn't look or sound like yours?

Understanding Love, Two Ways

Nandita is a romantic at heart - she thrives on surprises, gestures, celebrations. Her love languages lean strongly towards receiving gifts and perhaps words of affirmation. For her, love is in the sparkle - a note on the fridge, an unexpected bouquet, a whispered appreciation. She doesn't want extravagance, just recognition. Thought. Emotion.

Arjun, on the other hand, is steady, thoughtful, and deeply respectful, but his emotional fluency lies in quality time and acts of service. He'll make her tea the way she likes it, fold her clothes without being asked, and sit beside her in silence, offering his full presence. In his mind, this is love - daily, dependable, and honest.

The catch? He never says I love you. Never buys flowers and makes no effort on her birthday.

And therein lies the rub.

When Love Feels Lost In Translation

On paper, Arjun is a loving partner. He listens. He shows up. He's kind. But for Nandita, his lack of visible or verbal affection feels like an emotional drought. Her gestures for him - the gifts, the effort, the care are met with quiet gratitude, but rarely reciprocated in the way she longs for.

This mismatch of love languages doesn't mean they don't love each other. Far from it. But it does highlight what happens when that love goes unrecognised by the person it's meant for. It's the classic paradox: you can give your partner 100% of your love, but if it's in the wrong language, they might only feel 10% of it.

Adapting, Without Losing Yourself

What Arjun and Nandita eventually learn is the heart of Chapman's philosophy - you don't have to be fluent in your partner's love language from the start, you just have to be willing to learn.

For Arjun, this means stepping out of his comfort zone. Small gestures. Occasional notes. A thoughtful moment of romance, even if it feels awkward at first. Not because he's changing who he is but because he understands who she is.

A Two-Way Translation

Understanding how both partners give and receive love is key. It's not about sacrificing your own needs, but finding the middle ground. For Nandita and Arjun, that means compromise, openness, and yes, sometimes, coaching each other through unfamiliar territory.

Just like in any learning process, feedback is essential. When Nandita left home, it wasn't to punish Arjun - it was to breathe. And when Arjun came back, it wasn't with a dramatic gesture, but with quiet acknowledgement and the willingness to meet her halfway.

Through consistent effort and small steps, they began to translate love into a language that both could understand.

The Takeaway? Love Is A Willingness To Learn

If your relationship feels stuck in miscommunication, take a cue from Nandita and Arjun. Learn your partner's love language. Teach them yours. It's not about turning into someone you're not, it's about choosing to speak in a way they can hear you clearly.

Because sometimes love isn't just about what you say, it's about saying it in a way that lands.

And whether it's a folded towel or a birthday cake, a handwritten note or a cup of tea - love, when spoken fluently, has a way of being unmistakably heard.