You know those unexpected moments when you and your spouse slip into a “Do you remember…?” conversation? One minute you’re doing dishes, the next you’re both smiling about that old apartment with the squeaky door.

Those moments might seem small, but they’re quietly powerful. They’re a kind of emotional glue—the kind that helps hold you steady when life feels a little too full, a little too fast, or a little too heavy.

Researchers have been studying this for years, and what they’ve found is surprisingly comforting.

Two leading nostalgia researchers, Constantine Sedikides and Tim Wildschut, discovered that when couples revisit meaningful memories together, their connection gets a boost. Not in a grand, dramatic way—but more like a gentle nudge toward closeness, warmth, gratitude, and that familiar we’ve got each other feeling (Wildschut et al., 2006; Sedikides & Wildschut, 2018).

There’s even a name for that warm, glowy feeling that shows up when you look back on your early days together: romantic nostalgia. And it’s not about wishing you were young again or pretending life was easier than it was. Romantic nostalgia is about remembering who you were together—and realizing that version of “us” still lives here.

I felt that just recently.

Last week, I came across a box of my old journals. I opened them hoping to find a few specific details I’d been searching for. I didn’t find what I expected—but I couldn’t stop reading.

I had forgotten how hard that season was. How young we were. How stretched and uncertain life felt. We were living in my parents’ motorhome. Our goal was to save enough money for a down payment and build our first home; but, it seemed like nothing was going quite right.

I could feel the frustration in my own words. But woven right alongside it were small, steady entries about Kevin—how much I loved him, how grateful I was for him, even when everything felt wobbly.

When I shared some of those pages with him it took us both back, but we weren’t reliving the hard parts. We were remembering who we were together—even back then, when life felt cramped, uncertain, and complicated.

It still amazes me how the smallest shared memory can act like a bridge—carrying a little love from then into today.

Research backs this up. A study by Alea and Bluck (2007) found that sharing personal stories deepens intimacy—not because of the facts, but because of the feelings attached to them.

Telling these stories is a quiet way of saying, Here’s the real me. Here’s the real you. And look what we’ve built.

Real life isn’t all romance and soft lighting. It’s tight budgets, doctor appointments, and mystery leftovers in the fridge—and if I’m being honest, those are the good days.

When the harder seasons show up—when we’re tired, discouraged, or wondering how we got here—nostalgia can step in as emotional support.

Researcher Krystine Batcho (2013) found that remembering positive experiences helps people cope during difficult times. It steadies you. It reminds you:

We’ve made it through things before. We’re still us. We can do this.

Those shared memories aren’t escapism. They’re strength.

And maybe that’s the quiet gift of romantic nostalgia—it doesn’t ask you to go back in time. It simply reminds you that the love you built then is still here now, ready to be noticed, remembered, and gently carried forward—one small story at a time.

So here’s a simple place to start.

The next time one of those “Do you remember…?” moments shows up, don’t rush past it. Pause. Sit with it for a minute. Tell the story out loud. Add one detail you’ve never shared before. Or, if you’re on your own, jot down a few lines while it’s fresh.

You don’t need a perfect memory. One small story is enough to reconnect you to what you’ve already built—and to keep that emotional glue working quietly in the background of your everyday life.

Until next time,

Tami