Let’s Keep Dancing in the Kitchen – ryan

The sizzle of bacon on a Sunday morning. The whir of the coffee maker. And there, in our worn-out kitchen with its dated linoleum floor, my husband extends his hand while flipping pancakes with the other. Without a word, I step into his embrace, and we sway.

This isn’t a scene from a romantic movie. There are Cheerios scattered under the table from yesterday’s breakfast. The dishes from last night are still piled in the sink. Our youngest is calling from upstairs about a missing sock, and our teenager is sleeping in, as teenagers do. But in this moment, between the chaos of morning routines and weekend plans, we dance.

It started as a joke, really. Three years ago, when life felt particularly heavy—with work stress, parenting challenges, and the weight of caring for aging parents—I was stirring pasta sauce one evening when my husband walked in, humming our wedding song. Without thinking, I started humming too. He wrapped his arms around my waist, and right there, between the stove and the refrigerator, we found our sanctuary.

Since then, kitchen dancing has become our thing. It’s not choreographed or graceful. Sometimes it’s just a quick twirl while reaching for coffee mugs. Other times, it’s a full three-minute slow dance while waiting for the microwave to beep. Our kids roll their eyes now—Mom and Dad are at it again—but I catch them smiling when they think we’re not looking.

In a world that tells us love should be grand gestures and Instagram-worthy moments, we’ve discovered it in the ordinary spaces of our days. Between loading the dishwasher and meal prep. Between “Did you pay the electric bill?” and “It’s your turn to walk the dog.” Between the mundane and the routine, we find magic in movement.

These small moments have become our love language. When words feel inadequate or when exhaustion sets in after long days, we can still say everything we need to through a simple sway in our kitchen. It’s “I see you” in a gentle spin. It’s “we’ve got this” in a shared step. It’s “I still choose you” in a quiet embrace.

Our kitchen has witnessed countless conversations over the years—budget discussions, parenting decisions, career choices, family crises. But it’s also witnessed these wordless moments of connection that somehow say more than our conversations ever could.

Some days, the dance is playful—an exaggerated tango while making school lunches that leaves us both laughing. Other days, it’s a quiet hold when one of us has received difficult news or is carrying a heavy heart. The kitchen floor has caught our tears as much as it has our laughter.

I’ve realized that love doesn’t always need words. Sometimes it’s in the familiar touch of weathered hands, in knowing exactly how to fit into each other’s arms after decades together, in finding rhythms in the ordinary moments of our days.

To the outside world, our kitchen is nothing special. The cabinets need updating, and the countertops are far from Pinterest-worthy. But within these walls, we’ve built something beautiful. We’ve created a space where love doesn’t need to be perfect or polished. It just needs to be present.

So we’ll keep dancing in our kitchen—between the spills and the trials, between the ordinary and the extraordinary moments that make up a life together. Because sometimes the greatest love stories aren’t written in grand gestures or milestone moments. Sometimes they’re choreographed in kitchen dances, one ordinary moment at a time. And maybe that’s the most beautiful kind of love story of all.