Welcome to KISS KISS. We are a London-based magazine exploring romance in all its complexity, not the fairy tale, but the messy, lived experience. KISS KISS traces the many ways intimacy shapes our lives, challenging how we think about romance, identity, and connection. Stylish, intelligent, and unafraid to look at love with open eyes. KISS KISS moves through four movements: The Rush, The Routine, The Reckoning, and The Repair. From first-date nerves and situationships to secure intimacy, toxic patterns, and heartbreak, we trace the ways love shapes our lives today. Inside, you will find personal stories, cultural observations, and reflections on identity and desire. We explore the thrill of attraction in Scent or a Scam? The Truth About “Pheromone Perfume” (p.12), the comfort of routine in Garlic Bread is Better Than Sex (p.32), the challenges of obsession in Are We Dating… or Just Replaying? (p.40), and the subtle art of reinvention in How Dementia Changes Love (p.60). Fashion, culture, emotion, and love intersect here, reflecting how a generation fluent in the modern digital world experiences romance. This magazine doesn’t romanticise love. It documents it unapologetically, honestly, and with style. Because even in a world of fleeting moments, love is still urgent, still compelling, and still worth noticing. Kiss Kiss invites you on this journey. We hope you enjoy this first issue as much as we do.
68 pages · tap a page to read its text
Scent Or Scam The truth behind pheromone perfumes
Living as an ace The reality of asexuality
Photographer Lekan Costa
Creative Director Kyuri Bae
KISS KISS Team Aimee Wheeler, Lia Lee, Olie Ma, Nandini Khurana
Models Juan Diego Silva, Christine Hazel Moore
Welcome to KISS KISS.
We are a London-based magazine exploring romance in all its complexity, not the fairy tale, but the messy, lived experience. KISS KISS traces the many ways intimacy shapes our lives, challenging how we think about romance, identity, and connection. Stylish, intelligent, and unafraid to look at love with open eyes.
KISS KISS moves through four movements: The Rush, The Routine, The Reckoning, and The Repair. From first-date nerves and situationships to secure intimacy, toxic patterns, and heartbreak, we trace the ways love shapes our lives today.
Inside, you will find personal stories, cultural observations, and reflections on identity and desire. We explore the thrill of attraction in Scent or a Scam? The Truth About "Pheromone Perfume" (p.12), the comfort of routine in Garlic Bread is Better Than Sex (p.30), the challenges of obsession in Are We Dating... or Just Replaying? (p.40), and the subtle art of reinvention in When Dementia Changes Love (p.58). Fashion, culture, emotion, and love intersect here, reflecting how a generation fluent in the modern digital world experiences romance.
KISS KISS doesn't romanticise love. It documents it – unapologetically, honestly, and with style. Because even in a world of fleeting moments, love is still urgent, still compelling, and still worth noticing.
KISS KISS invites you on this journey. We hope you enjoy this first issue as much as we do. Let us know what you think on our socials or email us!
10 KISS KISS Look Book: First Date
12 Scent or a Scam? The Truth About Pheromone
24 KISS KISS Look Book: In Love
30 The must-watch list for the Romance Obsessed 32 Garlic Bread is better than sex?
ENTS
THE RECKONING
38 KISS KISS Look Book: Rough Patch
40 Are we dating or just replaying?
44 What it's like to have your relationship permanently on show....
52 KISS KISS Look Book: Love, After
54 No two first times are the same
60 How Dementia Changes Love
64 Our pick of 'bad-ending' love stories
THE RU
KISS KISS Look Book:
Felix Lange, 23, a management and French student, has been in a relationship for a year and a half. Here, he reflects on the outfit he chose for his first date.
"This cafe was recommended by my sister. I found it online, and thought it looked like a nice place to go. I really liked it then, and I still do, for the same reason as before: the cardamom bun. I felt both nervous and excited for my first date. I knew I didn't want to just wear anything.
I wanted to put some real effort into how I looked. I chose a leather jacket, jeans and these boots. I didn't want to seem overly formal, but I did also want to look like I could dress myself. I decided this would be a good way to show that.
I think my leather jacket was my standout item because it's like the first thing you see but it also only works because of the jeans. They work very well together.
My boots were the comfiest pair I had and ideally, if the coffee date went well, and then we would go somewhere else afterwards. So, I wanted to make sure that I was dressed for the possibility of the date continuing.
When I saw her for the first time, my first thought was that she weas really cute. Then, my second thought was: how can someone so small be such a big football fan? I also remember her telling me about her cats as we walked along the canal. Cookie and Cream are such a good name for cats. I remember thinking that we would probably get along well.
If I could describe my outfit, I'd say chic. I must have made a good first impression... a year and a half later, we're still together."
Written and Photographed by Kyuri Bae
Model Felix Lange
"I must have made a good first impression...
a year and a half later, we're still together"
Scent or a Scam?
From viral Tik Tok testimonials to lab research, we investigate whether pheromone perfumes are the secret to desire or just a really expensive placebo
Written by Aimee Wheeler
Somewhere between TikTok testimonials and glossy perfume ads, the idea that attraction could be bottled has started to gain a lot of traction. Spray this, and someone will want you. Spray that, and you'll become irresistible. Pheromone perfumes sell exactly that fairytale fantasy. Fragrances marketed as containing "human pheromones" promise a shortcut to desire, but the reality is far more subtle.
TikTok, the never-ending pit of trends, misinformation, and impulse purchases, has made Liquid London, a £39 pheromone perfume, practically impossible to scroll past. With #pheromoneperfume racking up over 26.6 million mentions and 43.7 million views on the hashtag, it looks, on the surface, like a product that's taken the world by storm. But look closer, and the cracks start to show. Many of the creators flooding your feed with glowing reviews are labelled “eligible for commission”, meaning every sale they drive puts money in their pocket.
TikTok duo @gracekelly_mcguire, for instance, posted a string of Liquid London videos tagged as paid advertisements, while framing them as personal favourites. The 8,490 five-star reviews and 4.4-star rating may look like proof of mass appeal, but when the algorithm is flooded with financially motivated content, it's worth asking: are people genuinely obsessed, or just really well-targeted?
The marketing leans on scientific-sounding phrases like “works with your chemistry” and “sparks instant chemistry” to make these products feel irresistible. So what are pheromone perfumes, really? Brands like Liquid London, Pure Instinct, and Venom for Her are all fragrances infused with synthetic compounds designed to mimic human pheromones, the key word being “mimic." The aim is to increase attraction, boost confidence, and amplify your natural skin chemistry. But fragrance experts are sceptical. One perfumer on Basenotes put it bluntly: in perfumery, the pheromone concept is "nothing more than a marketing gimmick.” TikTok. The reality is that these products smell pleasant and may make the wearer feel good, but the science behind the bold claims simply isn't there. Even critics within the pheromone industry admit that the supposed effects of viral pheromone perfumes are "highly exaggerated," with creators incentivised to make them seem effective because they earn a commission on every sale.
First, let's talk about pheromones. In many animals, these chemical signals play a direct role in attraction, guiding mates toward each other. Humans have similar chemical cues, but there's no evidence of a pheromone that guarantees attraction. Yet, pheromone perfumes claim to bottle this effect.
Mats J. Olsson, a professor of Experimental Psychology at the Karolinska Institute in Sweden, studies human chemical communication and pheromones. On whether any compound can reliably trigger attraction in humans, he says: "No chemical has yet been proven to meet the strict criteria of a true human pheromone. None." Most pheromone perfumes, including the ones flooding your TikTok feed, are built around synthetic versions of compounds found in human sweat. Yes, sweat. Androstadienone and estratetraenol are both naturally occurring in the body, and brands bottle artificial versions of them, blending them with fragrance molecules like ISO E Super to create that signature “skinlike” scent. So they're not entirely made up, but they're not magic either. As Professor Olsson puts it, “Scientific credibility is very low" for claims that these perfumes reliably trigger sexual attraction. He also points out something that might surprise you: “It is interesting to note that we have body odour and also apocrine 'scent' glands on the skin
in 'strategic' places (around nipples and genitalia) which to me have given the impression that the body wants to smell."
Here's what the science actually says: humans do respond to chemical cues, subtle, almost imperceptible scents that can nudge our mood or shift how we perceive someone. Studies on androstadienone found that it could produce minor mood lifts in women and make them more attuned to emotional faces. Interesting, sure. But these effects were inconsistent, only appeared under specific lab conditions, and crucially, didn't reliably make anyone more attractive to anyone else. Real life is messier than a laboratory, and no molecule has yet been proven to make someone want you.
Maya Njie, founder of Maya Njie Fragrances, is a London- based perfumer with over a decade of experience creating bespoke scents for major brands and private clients. She is known for crafting fragrances that enhance natural skin chemistry rather than mask it, aiming to provoke personal memories and emotions through scent.
KISS KISS MAGAZINE
On pheromone perfumes, she is clear: "The primal instinct is to like someone's natural smell, that comes first, and scent to me is an addition to that experience. I don't think it should cover up; it should work in harmony with the wearer's skin and natural smell."
Njie notes that many products marketed as “pheromone” or attraction-enhancing tap into the desire to feel irresistible rather than any biological effect. "The desire to be irresistible to someone else. It's never been proven that humans actually use pheromones, so it's just a marketing term that sells desirability."
But fragrance runs deeper than marketing. How a scent interacts with skin chemistry, memory, and personal taste shapes how it's perceived, making fragrance an intensely personal experience. Familiar aromas evoke comfort or nostalgia, while unfamiliar ones can leave an entirely different impression depending on who's wearing them and what they carry.
This is where Njie's perspective gets truly compelling. “There is a direct link in our brains between our memory and our olfactory system, so they are always going to be linked on a deeply emotional level. Our own culture and lived experience also play a big role in what we like and dislike." A scent can instantly transport someone to a moment in their past – feelings of comfort, joy, or nostalgia that no lab-made molecule can manufacture. The cologne a partner wore on a first holiday. The rosy soap that brings back your grandmother's hug.
Professor Olsson agrees: “You love the odour because you have already fallen in love with the person.” Scent becomes meaningful through memory and connection, not as a manufactured shortcut to attraction. Ultimately, says Njie, perfume is about self-expression, choosing a fragrance that feels authentic, that complements your natural chemistry and creates a personal signature. It was never a chemical formula that made someone truly captivating.
Evidence that pheromone perfumes reliably trigger attraction in real-life settings is limited. Despite glowing reviews and viral trends, these products do not guarantee that anyone will fall for you. Suzy Nightingale, a multi- award-winning fragrance journalist, explains that the main effect is psychological: “It's all about confidence," she says. "When you spray on something that makes you feel powerful, or cosy, or just more you, you stand differently. You talk differently. You smile like you know something good. That energy? That's what people actually notice." Olsson agrees that the psychology is real even if the biology isn't, noting that wearing a scent one enjoys increases self-assurance, which itself can genuinely improve social interactions.
Perfume can shape the way the wearer behaves and is perceived. Like putting on a favourite outfit, a scent that makes someone feel at their best can subtly enhance how others notice them. Marketing claims may exaggerate biological effects, but the boost a fragrance provides can still be very meaningful.
Ultimately, pheromone perfumes work less as chemical shortcuts and more as tools for personal empowerment. When a scent works for the wearer, it can enhance mood, self-expression, and the way they carry themselves, all of which can create a real impression, especially on a date. The bottom line? No perfume can manufacture desire. The science doesn't support it, the experts don't believe it, and even the influencers promoting it are getting paid to say so. But that doesn't mean fragrance is pointless, far from it. The most attractive scent is simply the one that makes you feel like the best version of yourself. The one that carries a memory, suits your skin, and makes you walk into a room like you already know how the night ends. That kind of chemistry? Entirely real. The perfume is just a really good wingman.
KISS KISS MAGAZINE
So, What Actually Works?
Stop searching for a spell. No perfume will
"make" someone fall for you. Here's what does work:
Wear it for yourself.
Does it make you feel confident and alive?
That's the only question that matters.
Let your skin decide.
Spray it, walk away, come back in an hour. Warmth changes everything.
Build a memory around it.
Wear it on the nights worth remembering. Over time, the scent becomes the feeling.
Situationships explained...
What happens when a relationship has all the feeling, but none of the definition? We asked strangers what undefined relationships really look like beyond the label.
The word situationship didn't come from a dictionary. It came from group chats, dating apps, and half-joking explanations to friends when "it's complicated" stopped covering it. Popularised by journalist Carina Hsieh in a 2017 Cosmopolitan article, where it was defined as "a hookup with emotional benefits”, the term has since gained traction across platforms like TikTok, becoming shorthand for relationships that exist without clear definition.
Its rise reflects a wider shift in how relationships are formed. Where dating once followed a clearer progression of meeting, commitment, and definition, many now exist in a more fluid space, shaped by dating apps, constant communication, and the option to remain undefined. For some, the ambiguity isn't accidental, but part of the
dynamic. That grey area is where the situationship lives. Its meaning shifts depending on who you ask – and that ambiguity is where its tension lies. Rather than defining it outright, we went to Brick Lane in East London to understand what it actually feels like in practice, beyond what it's supposed to be.
For many, situationships are defined by imbalance. Haley, 29, describes the risk as something almost inevitable - the quiet shift that happens when one person begins to feel more than the other. “I think the risk is always if one person develops feelings and the other doesn't,” she says. "Often, one person wants more, and they're just hanging on, waiting for the other person to say yes." What feels like a relationship can exist without ever being acknowledged as one. “It feels like a real relationship, but it's not. And that's what makes it painful."
Mala, 25, speaks from a place of exhaustion rather than reflection. Having been in multiple situationships, she describes the experience as emotionally draining. “You're getting all the feelings of a relationship," she says, "and it's just not that.” The tension builds quietly through delayed replies, unclear intentions, and the sense of always waiting for something to shift. "If someone takes three or four days to reply, I'm not doing that anymore,” she says. “I shouldn't be chasing someone to communicate with me."
Together, their experiences reflect a familiar pattern:
something that begins open and undefined slowly becomes harder to navigate, not because of what it is, but because of what it isn't. The lack of definition doesn't remove expectation; it often intensifies it.
“It feels like a relationship, but it's not, and thats what makes it painful"
"If someone takes three or four days to reply, I'm not doing that anymore"
I set by standards, learned my mints and figured muns ford figured out what want
But that pattern isn't universal. For Michael, 19, a six- month situationship with his best friend felt entirely different - less defined, but no less meaningful. “We loved each other in the good and the bad,” he says, “whether we were together or with other people. We never had to explain anything to each other.” Rather than confusion, he describes clarity – a connection that exists without pres- sure or expectation. “It was a different level of connection that I didn't know how to define at the time,” he explains. "I only realised later that it was a situationship.” For him, the experience is formative rather than KISS KISS MAGAZINE frustrating. “During those six months, I really got to know myself," he says. "I set my standards, learned my limits, and figured out what I want in a future partner.” Now, years later, they remain friends. “Honestly, it's probably the most positive experience I've had with anyone,” he reflects. “But I also know I wouldn't want another situationship again." His experience complicates the idea that situationships are inherently negative, suggesting that for some, the lack of definition can remove pressure rather than create it.
KISS KISS MAGAZINE
For Dean, 32, the distinction is more straightforward and something he feels he's grown out of. “If you're anxious about when they're replying and what to say,” he says, “it's probably not love - it's lust.” For him, love is defined by calm rather than intensity. “When it's love, it should feel comfortable and natural. Sometimes it's fun to chase, but it ends in tears for everyone." It's a perspective shaped by experience rather than idealism. “I don't want the drama anymore,” he says. “If it's something casual, accept that. Don't take it further.”
The word situationship is rarely used for something that works. Instead, it is applied to connections that end before they ever begin. That is where the stigma comes from, not necessarily because the experience is always negative, but because it lacks resolution. Something unfinished, something unclear.
"You're getting all the feelings of a relationship - and it's just not that"
Across the experiences on Brick Lane, no single definition holds. For some, situationships are defined by imbalance and frustration; for others, they offer freedom, clarity, or even growth. What remains constant is not the experience itself, but the uncertainty surrounding it – a relationship shaped as much by what is left unsaid as what is felt. Its meaning shifts depending on who you ask. That grey area is where the situationship lives – and perhaps why it continues to persist. Not as a failure of modern dating, but as a reflection of it: fluid, undefined, and still being figured out.
They're a 10 but....
Attraction is fragile. One moment you're picturing a future together, and the next you're quietly reconsidering your relationship over something small and strangely specific. Welcome to the era of micro dealbreakers, because perfection is never more than one “but” away.
Here's our guide to the subtle realisations that make you pause mid-crush and ask yourself, are they really a 10?
They're a 10, but... they turn everything into a debate
Engaging with someone who is smart and opinionated can be stimulating, but when every opinion feels like a challenge and every emotion needs dissection, it can become exhausting. Sometimes you just want to be heard, not corrected. In a relationship, mak- ing someone feel safe is more crucial than winning an argument.
They're a 10, but... they avoid difficult conversations
They might prefer harmony and shy away from tension, changing the subject when things get heavy. While this can feel peaceful on the surface, it does not make issues disappear. It simply postpones them. Unspoken needs and unclear boundaries can lead to built up resentment. Growth requires honesty, and sometimes that honesty is uncomfortable.
KISS KISS MAGAZINE
Their life is a whirlwind of meetings, workouts, and social plans, and at first this ambition seems attractive. Independence is appealing, and a full life can be excit- ing. However, as time goes on, you might start to wonder where you fit into their packed schedule. It's not that you need to be their entire world. You just want to feel like a priority. When every hangout feels squeezed in between commitments, the connection can start to feel transactional rather than genuine.
They might reassure you that it's harmless and that their past relationship is behind them, and they may genuinely mean it. However, emotional ties have a way of lingering. If an ex's name comes up frequently or if there are regular check-ins, it can make your present feel less secure. It's not necessarily about jealousy. Sometimes it is simply about wanting clear boundaries and a fresh start.
I miss you so much
Aren't you with someone else?
They're a 10, but... they're slow to text back
We all know life gets hectic. Work runs late and notifications can easily get buried. But when someone is slow to respond, it can create uncertainty. A simple thought of you or a rough day but I'm okay can make a world of difference, especially in the early stages of a relationship. When responses take hours or even days, it's not about waiting by your phone. It's about feeling consid- ered. Consistency in communication helps keep that spark alive, and when the energy feels uneven, attraction can start to wane.
They're a 10, but... they still talk to their ex
And are you not going to knowledge the text I sent??? We were supposed to talk about it
In all honesty u told me that u have things to say and for that i asked for you to text me but after that text I don't have anything to say and u completely understand your side but i have nothing to say anymore
OUTINE
KISS KISS Look Book:
Zacharias Xanthoudakis, 19, a creative student and an emerging model, has been in a long-distance relationship with a partner who lives in Japan since last October.
"It's quite difficult to feel a sense of security when your partner is on the other side of the world. For me, security comes from trusting both myself and her. The thoughts we share only between us and the experiences we've had together reinforce the special bond we have.
That is what gives me hope and a sense of stability. Even when we are physically apart, certain rituals make me feel emotionally close to her. Cooking, listening to the music she introduced me to, going through the gifts we exchanged, and revisiting memories through photos all help me feel connected.
Consuming Japanese food or engaging with gothic or Japanese media also reminds me of her presence in my life.
For the outfit, I chose a leather jacket and a scarf, both of which we bought together while vintage shopping. I also wear a Nirvana T-shirt, as we went to a tribute concert together as one of our first outings, and a unique, one-of-a-kind jumper that I got with her at a Zine Festival in Nottingham. This colourful and unconventional jumper makes me feel emotionally connected to her. When we are together, my style naturally becomes darker and more gothic. She herself embodies that aesthetic, and I find myself matching that energy because I can see that it makes her smile. Not only that, my outfits tend to feel more open and expressive.
If I had to describe my outfit in one word, ‘mournful would be the best."
Model Zacharias Xanthoudakis
Written and Photographed by Kyuri Bae
"When we are together, my style naturally becomes darker and more gothic because I can see that it makes her smile
Aleysha, 21, won't commit unless the cards say yes. In a dating culture defined by uncertainty, oracle readings have become a method of decision-making for her...
Written by Lia Keeble Oterto
Sacha lays out three cards: Reconsider. No. Unlikely. The answer is immediate. "No."
There is no hesitation in the reading, no ambiguity in the outcome. The cards do not explain his behaviour, nor do they soften it. There is no condemnation of his character, just clarity, the kind Aleysha has been seeking for years. For the first time, the flame is named not as fate, but as distraction.
The room is already prepared. Candles flicker against drawn curtains, the deck placed deliberately at the centre of the bed. Ambient music plays softly in the background, instrumental and atmospheric, suggesting something significant is about to be revealed. A glass of wine sits within reach. The process unfolds with familiarity: the shuffling, the pauses, the exchange of glances. This is not a spontaneous act of belief but a ritual sustained over time. Weekly readings have created rhythm, a shared language refined through repetition and built over years of friendship. There is comfort in knowing how it begins, how it unfolds, how it ends. Whatever the cards say, the ritual remains the same.
Aleysha Chambers, 21, is a business and finance student at Regent's University, living in West London and working part-time alongside her degree. She has been officially single her entire life. She says this plainly, without irony or apology, as though it is simply a technical detail rather than a personal failure. The word single, however, does not account for the amount of love she has experienced.
Her first serious attachment began at fourteen, an on-and-off relationship that never quite aligned. “It was always intense,” she says. “We were never on the same page at the same time." Since then, there have been others: emotionally intense encounters that arrive suddenly, demand attention and disappear before anything stable can form.
Aleysha is business-minded, academically focused and acutely aware of her time. She does not believe in wasting it, especially not on men who do not align with her values. "I date to marry," she says. "If it's not going somewhere, I don't see the point.” This is where the cards come in.
She does not pursue romantic connections without their approval, nor will she reply to a message, agree to a date or emotionally invest unless the cards give her permission to proceed. “Men have let me down,” she says. "The cards never do." For Aleysha, they act as a filter, a way of eliminating the ones that do not meet her standards before time is wasted. For Aleysha, oracle cards are less about prediction and more about approval. Unlike tarot, they follow no fixed structure or universal meaning; each deck operates according to its own internal logic, offering phrases rather than prophecies. A reading begins with a question, followed by a small number of cards, usually three, pulled intuitively and interpreted collaboratively. Rather than determining the future, they reflect emotional readiness, alignment and timing.
KISS KISS MAGAZINE
RECONSIDER
In practice, the Angel Answers oracle deck, produced by spiritual publisher Hay House, functions as a pause in moments of romantic uncertainty, suggesting when to wait, when to act and when to disengage. For those who trust it, like Aleysha, it does not make decisions but legitimises the ones already forming.
Sacha Rivoire, 21, also studies at Regent's University and has been reading oracle cards for years. She does not describe herself as mystical. Her tone is measured, almost clinical and has always been the more rational of the two, the one able to step back from emotion and name what Aleysha cannot. She insists she does not tell people what to do, but instead only interprets energy.
"I date to marry, if it's not going somewhere, I don't see the point"
"People already know the answer," she says. "The cards just help them see it.” People come to her when their emotions are louder than their logic. Most of the questions are about love. Clients, she explains, rarely want answers. They want reassurance. The cards do not reveal anything new but instead reflect what the person already knows and is not ready to admit. In that sense, they are less predictive than permissive. With Aleysha, the patterns are rarely hidden, only difficult for her to see on her own.
She has been reading for Aleysha for years. Best friends for nearly a decade, they have moved through school, countries and relationships together. The readings began in their mid-teens, becoming routine as romantic complications intensified. Weekly at first, they now happen as often as they are needed, more frequent when emotions escalate and less when life feels steady. Whatever changes around them, this is what remains: the same bed, the same deck, the same process of turning confusion into something they can sit with together.
This week's reading does not concern a new love, but an old one, the recurring presence Aleysha has returned to since she was fourteen. He appears just often enough to remain unresolved, never fully present and never fully gone. Lately, she has felt him edging back into her life again. Before anything has happened, the feeling is already there. This is what brings her back to the cards.
The question is simple: what are his intentions? “Should I let him back into my life?" Aleysha asks, her voice hesitant, her gaze fixed on the deck. Sacha continues shuffling, unhurried. The answer, when it comes, leaves little room for interpretation. As the cards are shuffled, Aleysha twists her hair absentmindedly around her fingers, her gaze fixed on the deck. “Is he worth my time?" she asks nervously. It is not the first time the question has been asked, only the first time it has been answered so definitively.
The resurgence of oracle cards is not happening in isolation. Their popularity mirrors a broader Gen Z search for meaning in a dating culture defined by ambiguity, situationships, soft launches and emotional half-commitments that rarely come with explanation or closure. During the pandemic, tarot and oracle readings surged across TikTok, often framed with captions like “if this finds you, it's meant for you.” For many, the messages felt uncannily specific, a reflection of both algorithm and emotion.
In a time when romantic outcomes are rarely clear, the cards provide what many relationships do not: a sense that events unfold for a reason, even when they do not last. They do not remove uncertainty. They organise it. The appeal is not only in what the cards reveal, but in what they make possible: a structure for feeling, a ritual for waiting, a way of making the unknown briefly manageable.
Aleysha wants to be married by twenty-five. This is not a vague aspiration but a logistical plan. She has already chosen the venue, the ring, the dress and the guest list. The only missing element is the groom. "The man is not the most important part. What matters is alignment, values, intention, timing. The rest will arrive when it is meant to," says Aleysha.
The cards, in this context, are less romantic than they are strategic. They do not help her fantasise about love; they regulate access to it. She does not wait to be chosen. She consults a system that decides whether someone is worth accommodating into a life plan that is already complete. For Aleysha, marriage is inevitable. The mystery, apparently, is optional.
The reading unfolds with practised ease. The gestures are familiar, repeated over years of shared experience. Whether it is faith or simply a method of managing romance remains unclear. What is visible, however, is the function it serves. The cards are never pulled alone. They sit between friends, between doubt and hope, between impulse and restraint. Less a search for answers than a shared way of navigating love.
When the reading ends, the candles are blown out. The deck is put away. Life resumes. The question that lingered in her mind had been answered. The chapter was ready to be closed.
Aleysha did not text him that night. The cards did not approve.
“People already know the answer, the cards just help them see it”
SWE ANSWER ANSWER ANSW] ANSWE ANSWE ANSW ANSW
You're curled up on the sofa in your comfiest PJs, snacks within reach, screen glowing, but the endless scroll begins. What to watch? Fear not, fellow binge-watchers KISS KISS, has curated the perfect list for you to obsess over for the next month. From modern French fashion to secret sports romances, this list has something for every kind of hopeless romantic.
If you crave hot tension with charming athletes, look no further. Heated Rivalry is a romantic sports drama where on-ice animosity between hockey stars Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov melts into a secret, years-long romance. Spanning from 2008 to 2018, this series is addictive, packed with yearning, hidden affairs, and the constant risk of exposure. Premiering in November 2025, it took the internet by storm and has already been renewed for Season 2. Why watch? Well, the intense world of professional sports with the intimate thrill of a secret relationship its definitely fixating. (Streaming on Prime Video and Now TV).
For Glamorous, Guilty-Pleasure Escapism: Emily in Paris
If raunchy tension isn't your style, let's fly away to beautiful Paris. Emily in Paris follows a young American marketer who shakes up a French firm with her love life and bold ideas. It's a present-day, exciting escape full of fashion, attractive French men, heartbreak, and complicated “situationships.” Season 5 dropped on December 18, 2025, making it the perfect binge to catch up on. Why watch? It's the ultimate romantic fantasy, unapologetic fun that doesn't take itself too seriously. (Streaming on Netflix).
Want a break from modern settings? Travel to 1850s Australia with The Artful Dodger. It follows adult Jack Dawkins, a brilliant surgeon whose criminal past resurfaces when his old mentor reappears. The romance with the governor's daughter is full of tension, but the show's real hook is the blend of high-stakes surgery, betrayal, and adventure. Why watch? It's a thrilling, unique mix of medical drama, crime caper, and historical romance. With Season 3 set for February 2026, now is the time to catch up. (Streaming on Hulu/Disney+).
For relatable, raw, and real teen romance: Heart Breakhigh
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Think Paris is too cringey or cliche then dive into the elite world of Maxton Hal. This German drama pushes witty scholarship student Ruby against arrogant rich boy James in an exclusive private school. It's a classic enemies-to-lovers trope at its best, where hidden secrets and clashing worlds force a compelling romance. Season 2 arrived in November 2025, with Season 3 confirmed. Why watch? It delivers all the addictive, cosy drama of a great teen romance with a sleek, modern production. (Streaming on Prime Video).
For Historical Adventure and Romance: The Artful Dodger
Travelling back to the modern day If you're looking for something fresh, raw, and explosively vibrant, Heartbreak High is the drama to watch. This Australian reboot became a global Netflix sensation. It follows a diverse group of students at Hartley High after a secret “incest map” exposing all their hook- ups gets leaked, throwing their social lives into chaos. Beyond the messy friendships, their unique stories with queer discovery, and complicated young love with will-they-won't-they tension between characters like Amerie and Malakai. It's heartfelt and hilarious,and with Season 2 that premiered in April 2024, Season 3 in march of 2026. Binge it now and discover the drama. (Streaming on Netflix).
Garlic Bread is better than sex?
In 2026, it's time for the world to learn more about asexuality. Let's listen to the the stories of three aces in different situations.
written by Olie Ma
“It may sound hard to believe, but the question I fear most these days is 'What is your relationship status?"" says Eve, a 21-year- old fashion student. And Eve is not alone. For people on the asexual spectrum, the problem is not simply that these questions are awkward, it is that they often arrive with an assumption already built in. People never believe her when she tells them she has never felt sexual attraction, Eve explains. "They think I'm pretending," she says. “They think I'm trying to be different. Some of them just do not believe me. Someone even asked me if I'm sexually repressed.” For Eve, the pressure is not only the question itself, it is the disbelief and the push to explain herself on terms she did not choose.
“Feminist and queer studies have often operated with a universal sexual assumption that ignores the possibility of asexuality as a viable lived experience,” says asexuality scholar KJ Cerankowski, co editor of Asexualities Feminist and Queer Perspectives. He links every day disbelief to a wider structure of "social marginalisation and pathologisation” directed at people "based on the preference to not have sex".
The assumption that sex and romance are the centre of adult life shows up in what can, on the surface, feel like normal small talk: Are you seeing anyone? Do you want to date? When will you settle down? These questions can sound neutral, but they often point in the same direction. They suggest that intimacy must revolve around sex or romance, and that a life without those needs explaining.
Eve currently defines herself as quoisexual, a term some people on the asexual spectrum use when sexual attraction feels difficult to pin down or describe, and when the “why” of attraction remains unclear.
"They think I'm trying to be different. Some of them just do not believe me. Someone even asked me if I'm sexually repressed"
She is not sure if she will ever feel sexually attracted to others and is not in a hurry to give a fixed answer. But it is this uncertainty that leads her to frequently encounter doubts in her daily life. During a casual dinner conversation with schoolmates, when Eve said she had never felt sexual attraction towards anyone of any gender and did not know how to define her sexual orientation, the responses came almost immediately. Some joked and said, "wow thats so cool, its my first time meeting an asexual in real life." Others didn't believe her, even asking if she was sexually repressed.
"I felt my boundaries were crossed instantly. They think I'm pretending. They think I'm trying to be different. Some of them just don't believe me,” says Eve. “When someone asked if I was sexually repressed, I felt really offended. It was like they needed an explanation for me, or they wanted to fix it. It felt like my asexuality was being treated as a disorder... No one really respected what I was saying."
“I keep seeing the same pattern,” says KJ Cerankowski, “People treat sex as the normal centre of adulthood. So when someone says, 'I don't want sex', it gets read as a problem that needs explaining. That is what asexual studies tries to name,” he adds. “It is not just awkwardness. It is a culture deciding whose relationship counts.”
Cerankowski points out that this way of thinking also leaves little room for uncertainty. “We act as if sexual orientation has to be clear, stable, and definable,” he says. “But real experiences do not always work like that. Grey areas are real. Fluidity is real. When someone cannot give you a neat label, that does not mean they are immature. It usually means they are being honest."
If Eve is under pressure from the constant questioning of uncertainty, Sugi's troubles come from a different direction. She is a romantic asexual who has no sexual attraction, often called "alloromatic asexual". Sugi has a close and stable same sex relationship, but it does not involve sexual activity.
"That does not mean there is no intimacy,” she says. "We share our lives. We take care of each other. We have a deep emotional connection."
"It felt like my asexuality was being treated as a disorder" "No one really respected what I was saying'
LE ISSUE THE CIRCLE THE CIRCLI E ISSUE THE CIRCLE ISSUE TI CIRCLE ISSUE THE CLE ISSUE THE LE ISSUE THE C
“On a date, I can be really happy just talking,” Sugi says. “But if the other person suddenly tries to hold my hand or kiss me, I feel nauseous. I feel really uncomfortable... I can accept physical contact," she adds. “I even like linking arms when I walk with someone. But everything depends on it not having a special meaning."
Sugi understanding asexuality does not mean denying emotions. "It means accepting that the way you express emotions can be different," she says.
What really gets to Sugi, she explains, is the world's high exposure to sex, and the way people assume you should participate by default. “I often feel like I'm being pulled into narratives about sex without my consent,” she says, explaining how, during a casual chat with a friend, the conversation suddenly veered towards the details of that friends' sexual life.
“It was so abrupt,” says Sugi. “Can't the sexual people understand that there are people in the world who can't accept sex at all? Talking about sex in front of me is like eating a tin of herring in front of a person with a sensitive nose."
Sugi is puzzled by how easily people conflate love with sex, as if the authenticity of emotions must be verified through sex. "People can just fall in love because of hormones and sexual attraction," she says. “That is really hard for me to understand." She also notices how sexual imagery fills public space. "There are huge kissing ads everywhere," she says. "Sometimes it feels like a reminder that people like me are invisible. Our feelings are not considered."
"I think this is about boundaries and consent," says KJ Cerankowski. "When talking about sex is treated as a sign of openness, people forget something basic: not everyone wants to be included." Respecting asexual people does not mean stopping the discussion of sex, he adds. “It means recognising the right to opt out."
For me, as a greysexual, the grey area within the asexual spectrum also means constant explanation. Both romantic and sexual attraction are relatively weak in my experience, and what I find most uncomfortable is the confusion of those around me after coming out. Often people tell me: “You just haven't met the right person yet. You're still young; you'll understand when you grow up." These words, though seemingly caring, implicitly deny the validity of my feelings, as if they need time to be "verified" or "corrected".
“friendship gets treated like it is second place, or like it is only there until
'real love' shows up"
KISS KISS MAGAZINE
"I think a lot of people are making a judgement without realising it," says KJ Cerankowski. “They treat sexual attraction as the measure of whether a relationship is real, and they treat romance as the main proof that you are emotionally capable.”
He adds: “When you do that, you end up equating intimacy with sex or couplehood. So friendship gets treated like it is second place, or like it is only there until ‘real love' shows up. But that is not how closeness works for many people."
In this context, friendship has become the most certain form of intimacy for me. Compared to romantic relationships, it is more stable and less questioned. For people in their early twenties, three-year-long romantic relationships are not all that common, yet I have several close friendships that have lasted for five or six years. They do not rely on sex or romance to be maintained, but they still contain companionship, responsibility, and trust. However, such relationships are rarely taken seriously in mainstream narratives and are often seen as transitional or substitutes before true love comes along.
The ace community has a joke about garlic bread. As one Reddit user explains: “Since asexual people aren't really interested in 'the nasty', they make memes about the second or arguably the first best thing, garlic bread." It refuses the idea that everyone must want the same thing. It is also a small reminder that respect should be the default, even when desire is not.
THE REC
Vain
KO G
Penelope Guillard, 18, a French student studying biological sciences in London. She has been in a long-distance relationship for eight months, with her boyfriend, Romeo, living in France.
“The dress I chose is one of my favourite ones. He used to compliment me on it every single time I wore it. Then one day, he suddenly stopped. He never mentioned it again, and it was the last time he ever called me pretty. It's dark in colour and quite monochromatic, which I think reflects my mental state very well. While I was with him, I began by trying desperately to hold on. I wanted to show that love was worth fighting for. I would text even when I was extremely busy and sacrifice sleep and time just to make him feel loved. But after being called delusional for thinking there was a problem, I slowly began to shut down emotionally. My body started to feel weak. It was as if my physical state was mirroring the mental pain I was experiencing. I couldn't eat properly or focus on anything.
O At first, I started dressing worse. I had no motivation and felt like it wasn't worth pretending to be okay. Later on, I began putting more effort into my makeup and accessories, not necessarily because I felt better, but because it helped me feel somewhat ‘worth it'. It also created the illusion that everything in my life was fine, even when it wasn't. I desperately wanted my partner to notice that something was wrong and realise that he was hurting me. Unfortunately, he isn't a very perceptive person. If I had to describe my outfit from that period in one word, it would be 'rouge. As a French speaker, rouge simply means red, but to me it carries much deeper connotations. It represents love and passion, but also something darker, intertwined with desire, pain, and a sense of emotional deception."
Model Penelope Guillard
Written and Photographed by Kyuri Bae
OR JUST REPLAYING?
Ever felt like your new relationship is strangely familiar?
Attachment theory suggests we may be repeating the same patterns when it comes to love.
Written by Kyuri Bae
"Attachment theory is the best known explanation of love and relationships"
You meet someone new. The conversation flows easily, the excitement builds, and everything seems effortless at first. Yet as time passes, the emotional rhythm of the relationship can begin to shift. The early spark slowly gives way to uncertainty. Moments of closeness are followed by distance, and emotional clarity becomes difficult to find. Even when we meet different people, many of us recognise this pattern. The faces may change, but the emotional experience can feel strangely familiar. Modern dating culture often intensifies this dynamic. Dating apps, texting, and social media have changed the way relationships begin and develop. Connections can feel emotionally intimate before they are clearly defined, and feelings may deepen quickly while commitment remains uncertain. Within this space of ambiguity, even small signals begin to carry emotional weight. A delayed message invites interpretation, a short reply feels loaded with meaning, and even silence can feel like a response.
For Andrea Oskis, a London-based psychologist specialising in attachment theory, these reactions are not surprising. "Attachment theory is the best known and most significant explanation of love and relationships." She explains. “Your attachment style influences how you connect with others, how much closeness or distance you prefer, and whether intimacy feels safe or anxiety-provoking.” In other words, the emotional responses we experience in relationships are often shaped by patterns that developed long before modern dating culture existed. To understand why certain relationships feel strangely familiar, researchers often turn to one of the most influential frameworks in relationship psychology: attachment theory.
Attachment theory was first introduced by British psychologist John Bowlby, who proposed that our earliest experiences of care shape the way we approach relationships later in life. In simple terms, attachment theory suggests that the way we experience closeness as adults is influenced by the relationships we formed as children. Psychotherapist Jane Halsall explains that these patterns often develop very early in life. “From infancy, children seek closeness and safety from their caregivers,” she says.
"The responses they receive help shape their attachment style, usually before the age of five." When caregivers are consistently responsive and emotionally available, children tend to develop secure attachment. They learn that relationships can be trusted
AMO and that emotional needs will be met. However, when care is inconsistent, distant, or unpredictable, children may develop different strategies for emotional safety. Some individuals up feeling anxious about relationships, constantly seeking reassurance that they are valued. Others learn to rely on independence and emotional distance to protect themselves from disappointment.
Over time, these early experiences create what psychologists often describe as internal templates for relationships. “These early experiences shape beliefs about whether others are reliable,” Halsall explains. “They also influence whether someone feels safe expressing emotions and whether they believe they deserve care." Although these patterns form in childhood, they often continue to influence adult relationships in subtle ways. Few people consciously think about childhood when they start dating someone new. Yet the emotional expectations formed early in life can quietly shape how individuals respond to closeness, uncertainty, and vulnerability. In this way, relationships are rarely experienced on a completely blank slate. Instead, they are filtered through patterns that have been developing for years.
While attachment patterns originate early in life, modern dating culture has created an environment where these patterns can become particularly visible. Digital communication has transformed the pace and structure of relationships. Conversations now unfold through messages, notifications, and social media interactions. This constant connectivity can create the illusion of closeness. But it can also introduce new forms of uncertainty.
Messages can be read but unanswered, replies may arrive hours later, and tone or intention are often difficult to interpret through text. According to Doctor Andrea Oskis, who studies attachment and emotional development, these conditions can heighten emotional responses.
“Modern dating environments often limit opportunities for authentic communication,” she says. “When interactions are mediated through screens, people may feel pressure to present themselves in particular ways.” This can activate what Oskis describes as a performative side of relationships.”
In many cases, individuals are trying to avoid rejection or abandonment,” she says. “That is at the core of attachment anxiety." In other words, people are not simply communicating, they are also managing how they appear to others.
Jane Halsall also observes that modern dating culture can intensify attachment-related anxieties. Dating apps create the sense that there are always more potential partners available, while communication patterns such as ghosting or inconsistent replies can introduce emotional instability.
"For individuals with anxious attachment, uncertainty can feel particularly distressing,”, she says. “At the same time, the abundance of choice can make people hesitant to commit."
As a result, modern dating environments can sometimes amplify both anxious and avoidant tendencies. Some individuals respond to uncertainty by seeking greater reassurance and emotional closeness. Others respond by creating distance. Both reactions are shaped by the same underlying question: Is this relationship safe?
One of the most confusing aspects of modern relationships is how quickly emotional intensity can develop. People sometimes find themselves deeply affected by relationships that lasted only a short time. Even after a connection ends, the emotional impact may linger.
From the perspective of attachment theory, however, the duration of a relationship is not always the most important factor. Doctor Andrea Oskis explains that attachment systems respond primarily to emotional closeness, rather than time itself.
“Emotionally, it's often not just about the here and now,” she says. "Something relational from the past may be activated."
Moments of vulnerability, sharing personal stories, expressing fears, or feeling truly understood, can create powerful bonds even within a short period. In addition, certain relationship dynamics can intensify emotional attachment. Psychologists often refer to intermittent reinforcement, where moments of closeness are followed by periods of distance.
This unpredictability can heighten emotional investment rather than reduce it. Situationships often operate within this dynamic. Because these relationships lack clear definition or commitment, they can feel emotionally confusing. For individuals with anxious attachment, this ambiguity can trigger a strong need for reassurance. For others, particularly those who are more comfortable with emotional distance, loosely defined relationships may initially feel easier to navigate. Yet over time, even these arrangements can create tension as emotional intimacy develops.
"These early experiences shape beliefs about whether others are reliable"
Despite these complexities, both Oskis and Halsall emphasise that attachment patterns are not fixed. Relationships themselves can influence how attachment evolves. "Attachment styles can change when people experience supportive relationships," Oskis explains.
“That's why I like to think of attachment theory as a hopeful theory," Halsall agrees. “Developing awareness is often the first step," she says. "When people begin to recognise their emotional patterns, they gain more freedom in how they respond."
Ultimately, attachment theory offers a different way of understanding modern love. It suggests that the emotional patterns we experience in relationships are not random. They are shaped by our histories, our experiences, and the ways we have learned to seek connection.
And perhaps that is why, even in a world filled with new matches and new beginnings, relationships can sometimes feel strangely familiar. Because every new relationship carries not only the possibility of a future, but also the emotional stories we bring with us.
So the next time a relationship feels confusing, it may be worth asking a different question. Not just “What is this person doing?" but also "How do I usually respond to closeness and distance?"
Understanding our own attachment style is not about labelling ourselves. Instead, it can offer something quieter and more valuable: a little more clarity about our patterns, and perhaps a little more compassion for ourselves and the people we love.
Lighting Assist by Amy Kim
Hair & Make-up by Sian Morgan and Labonno Asif
Models by Ismael Gallego Iglesias and Andrea Neumann Creative Direction by Kyuri Bae
All Photography by Jimin Kwon
What it's like to have your relationship permanently on show....
In an era where relationships are increasingly lived on camera, romance is no longer private. For couple creators, intimacy can also become collaboration. Love becomes less about gentle words, quick cuddles and discrete romantic gestures and instead becomes a series of schedules, roles, edits, and decisions about what belongs online and what stays off-screen.
When a relationship overlaps with content-making, a question emerges: How does love change when two people are also building something together in public? Whitney Lyu has around 80k followers across REDnote, YouTube, and Instagram. 44
KISS KISS caught up with Whitney Lyu 25, and Brian Ma 31, a New York-based couple, who have been together for six years. Whitney, originally from Jiangsu, China moved to the US for university. Brian is a Chinese American born and raised in the US.
Over the past few years, their channels have documented not only everyday life as a dual-income couple with a dog, but also the small negotiations of a relationship shaped by shared heritage and different cultural instincts.
Here they log on for a chat with KISS KISS to explain how they make it work......
couple Whitney Lyu and Brian Ma about sharing their love on social media
Written by Olie Ma
What made you start this account as a couple? How did it begin?
W: Honestly, he didn't really pay attention at first. I'd just tell him if something was interesting, but he didn't manage the account or check comments. After we moved to New York, I started posting more. Back then it was mostly food, because New York has so many good restaurants. One time I posted one video about Brian Speak Chinese in a clumsy way with no editing, no subtitles, no music, nothing. It just blew up, until now it has 36.8k likes in REDNote. I was like, maybe people actually like this, so we kept going.
At what point did you start feeling like this channel could be something you keep doing long-term?
W: We try to make what people want to watch, but it still has to reflect real life. We can't really do something that's fully planned. Sometimes we see other couples and get inspired, then we make a simpler version, but we always add our own touch. It has to feel natural.
Where do ideas usually come from? Do you sit down and brainstorm?
W: It depends on what's in my album. If I have clips that feel worth posting, I'll edit and post them. If there's nothing, I won't force it. But I do feel pressure if we don't post for a few days. That's my own problem. We don't really have a strict schedule unless it's a collaboration.
Your content is really varied. Vlogs, Chinese-learning games, sit-down chats, also your cute dog Lilo. How do you decide what to post next?
W: If we're going out, travelling, doing something special, I'll record. If it's just work and walking the dog, I don't think it's worth filming. So it's not like I'm taking out my phone all day, every day. But trips and planned days, yes, I'll definitely record. What content do you each enjoy making most?
B: I like talking about serious cultural topics. And I like play Chinese-learning games.
W: He likes deep talking videos, but I would like to make less of those videos. Sometimes it doesn't feel "safe" online because people can get uncomfortable and argue. Personally, I love the content where we go back to China. People like watching an American-born Chinese experience China and see the differences. And it's all very natural, so I enjoy editing it.
Does filming change your daily life as a couple?
W: One hundred percent. When something is happening, you must grab the phone, open the camera, set it up in a good position. It's a waste of time, and it can stop you from enjoying the moment. Recording is always in the back of my mind, so it can feel stressful. But once I finish editing and post, I get this sense of accomplishment.
B: Sometimes it's fun. It's also a good memory for us. Like one day when we're old, we can watch it back.
When you share your relationship online, people can leave harsh comments or over-interpret tiny expressions. How do you deal with negative reactions?
W: Brian does not really get involved. He cannot even read most of it, it would take him several business days. If something is genuinely funny or positive, I will tell him. If it is negative, I usually will not. Sometimes in my head I want to clap back, but I do not actually fight strangers online. The hardest part is finding the balance between sharing yourself and not saying too much. If you share nothing, you become like a robot, just “I did this today, I did that today,” and it is hard to connect with people.
But if you share too much, it can be risky. I try to share feelings without oversharing. If I have time, I check comments. If I do not, I just leave it. It can affect my mood, of course. But it does not affect our relationship. Arguing with people you do not know is pointless and there are many people who genuinely like us. Sometimes we meet followers in real life and they tell us they love our content, so that is what we focus on.
Where do you draw the line? What feels okay to share, and what stays private?
B: I am open to sharing thoughts, feelings, opinions, ideas. But if it is personal information that could actually affect my daily life, I do not want to share that.
W: A simple example is location. If we are filming a word- guessing video and he says the exact neighborhood name, I will stop him, because then people know where we live. I will not put personal privacy online. But everyday life, us having fun, what we did that day, that is fine. If it brings people happiness, people enjoy watching.
Our focus is not “making people know us” as private individuals. We care more about whether the content is entertaining and whether people learn something like cultural differences here and there.
At home, what language do you use most? And does language affect how you argue, comfort each other, or make up?
W: In the very beginning it was hard. I had to use a translator to talk in English. Later he started learning Chinese, but we still use English more. He told me I sometimes assume he understands every Chinese word, but he actually understands maybe 30 percent. So English is easier for serious conversations.
Looking back from dating, long-distance, to marriage, what brought you closer?
W: During Covid we had one year of long-distance. We didn't see each other at all, and we didn't even talk that much. It was crazy. But we didn't have a big crisis. We just did our own thing, and when I came back, he came to meet me. It felt like mutual effort.
B: I can't really give relationship advice, but recognising each other's effort matters. When you feel the weight of it, that's what keeps people together. For me it was also making a decision and committing to it.
Ghostlighting, sweeping and everything in between, KISS KISS takes a look at the latest dating trends...
Gen Z is used to the brutality of swiping right or left in seconds. If someone doesn't catch your eye instantly, they're gone. Dating has become fast, visual, and almost instinctive. But with that speed has come a more cut- throat culture, one where connection can feel disposable and attention spans are shorter than ever. What once felt like an easy shortcut to meeting people now comes with hidden costs. Messages still hum with warmth, but not all of it is real. In 2026, screens don't just create connections, they can stage them. Carefully curated profiles, perfectly timed replies, and just enough vulnerability can make something feel genuine, even when it isn't. Affection can blur into pressure. “Nice” can quietly shift into expecta- tion. What feels like someone leaning in can actually be them taking something from you, whether that's time, emotional energy, or even money. And because everything moves so quickly, red flags don't always register in time. They get lost in the rush of constant notifications and the excitement of something new. Behind the aesthetics and algorithms, intentions don't always match the energy being given. The habit of making snap decisions, replying instantly, and chasing momentum can mask warning signs under a sense of urgency. You're not always given the space to pause and ask, is this actually real? Because when dating becomes about speed over substance, emotional safety doesn't always keep up.
Fake affection often comes disguised as patience, unfold- ing over weeks before requests appear, gift cards first, then apps, sometimes crypto. Detective Superintendent Oliver Little from the City of London Police calls romance fraud "a deeply personal betrayal that can leave lasting emo- tional scars." The year 2025 saw losses hit £106 million due to scams on dating platforms. Nearly 10,000 cases were logged by the City of London Police alongside their fraud division. Over that period, every reported victim lost an average of £11,000.
Ghostlighting is a combination of gaslighting and ghost- ing. Gaslighting refers to manipulating someone into questioning their own memory or perception of events, while ghosting is when someone abruptly cuts off com- munication without explanation. This emerging trend in- volves a person disappearing, then returning with excuses that minimise or distort their absence. These explanations often include claims of confusion, missed messages, or ex- ternal circumstances, subtly shifting the narrative. Accord- ing to Kyler Shumway, Psy.D., a licensed therapist speaking to Men's Health, ghostlighting occurs when someone cuts off contact and later returns with dismissive explanations, leaving the other person doubting what really happened. New York-based dating expert Anna Morgenstern told Yahoo! UK that this behaviour is not just inconsiderate but manipulative, as it avoids accountability and can shift blame onto the other person. In conversations on the streets of London, the impact is immediate. “It messes with your head more than just being ghosted," Tanya, 22, says. “At least with ghosting, you know it's over. With this, questioning yourself." "It's not the silence," I observed, "it's the return that makes you doubt what you experienced in the first place." Tanya says.
Catfishing refers to the act of creating a false identity online to deceive others, often in romantic contexts. This can involve using fake photos, fabricated personal details, or entirely invented personas. Not every face behind a screen tells the truth. False personas appear frequently across online platforms. While national statistics from Britain remain limited, personal reports and media coverage suggest that more than one in four people using dating apps have encountered someone presenting misleading information. Sean Fry told The Sun he thought he had “met the love of my life" after meeting Rebecca Gray, who later conned him by faking terminal cancer. Claiming she had only months to live, she persuaded him to give her money, with Sean saying "I did really care for her and just wanted to do what I could." He later discovered she was lying and deceiving another man too, admitting “it became very clear that everything was a lie," and adding that the emotional impact was "the absolute least of it."
Harshita, 21, a student who just completed her degree says that she met someone on a dating app who initially appeared genuine but consistently avoided video calls. Over time, inconsistencies in his messages became apparent, prompting her to step back. “It stung a bit," she said, "but it showed me how important it is to trust your gut.” Communication online carries weight. Still, identities can be shaped and controlled, making it hard- er to distinguish authenticity from fabrication.
KISS KISS MAGAZINE
Sweeping
Each spring, a quiet shift takes place across dating plat- forms. Not everyone stays. Some fade away without words. In response, users begin clearing out, dropping expired chats, cutting ties that quietly died, reshaping space. This act, known as sweeping, isn't just clean up. It becomes a way to reset, making room by releasing what no longer moves forward. Patterns differ widely. While some behaviors damage connection, others guide choices with clearer purpose. The process opens doors not by force, but through deliberate release. A slight majority of individuals pursuing relationships across the United Kingdom have reorganised their personal connections lately, data from happn indicates: Over 50% cut ties with contacts who never responded 43% ended dead-end relationships or situationships 39% refreshed their dating profiles with new photos or prompts. Clearing out past connections makes space for deeper ones, Claire Renier from happn told Indiatimes, pointing to a preference for truth over comfort. Those letting go tend to grow surer of themselves, along with gaining clearer emotional awareness.
6 sense ad
Dating in 2026 isn't hopeless, but it does demand more awareness than ever. Trends like ghostlighting and catfishing show how easily trust can be manipulated, while the scale of romance scams proves the risks are real. At the same time, behaviours like sweeping suggest a shift, with people becoming more intentional about who they invest their time and energy in. The reality is, online dating isn't slowing down, so learning how to navigate it matters. Recognising patterns, spotting in- consistencies, and trusting your instincts can make the differ- ence between a genuine connection and a damaging experience. It's less about overthinking every interaction and more about knowing when something doesn't feel right. Understanding these trends isn't about becoming cynical, it's about staying in control. The more aware you are, the easier it is to protect your time, your energy, and your sense of self while still leaving space for something real. As Claire Renier explained in comments to UNILAD, a UK based digital media company known for viral news and lifestyle content, “Even in a world of ghosting and scams, there's room for real connection. Sweeping is about opening doors for the right people, not closing them on love altogether."
Warning signs you should look out for Staying alert matters when using dating apps, since some people might mis- lead others for personal gain:
- Quick spikes in emotion, particularly on digital platforms, may signal outside influence shaping reactions, FCA study 2026
- Requests for money early in contact typically point to romantic fraud, City of London Police 2025
- Missing a video call or avoiding in-person conversations could signal some- one is being untruthful
- Shifting tales could signal dishonesty, like ghosting or fake profiles, as noted by City of London Police 2025
- Being kicked out of secure messaging apps can isolate people, making over- sight easier
KISS KISS MAGAZINE
THE R
REPAIR
Kiss Kiss Look Book:
Bambi Ercan, 18, is now single after a short situationship that lasted around seven weeks with someone she met at college. She explores emotional clarity, self-trust, and reclaiming her sense of style after the relationship ended.
"Our relationship was somewhere between good friends and something more, and that was what made the ending particularly upsetting. We both knew it had to end, but we were also very good friends. We tried to stay friends, yet there was always that lingering flirty vibe there. That's when I decided to cut it off and moved on, especially as he kept trying to wiggle his way back into my life. After cutting things off, the strongest emotion I felt was relief, hahaha. Honestly, I felt so happy because he caused me a lot of problems like overthinking and made everything more complicated than it ever needed to be. Looking back, I realise that my style was overshadowed a lot when with him. I started to think I was ‘weird for wearing unusual hats or strange clothing that I personally felt was cool and unique. Subconsciously, I began to question myself.
He never directly made me feel self-conscious, as I actually kept a lot of my fashion expression away from him. I think it was more of a psychological thing at the time, and I would never limit myself like that now. The outfit I wore was a black bra top, baggy white shirt, Calvin Klein underwear layered with men's boxer shorts, and blue baggy jeans. This outfit was expressive and unique to me and it represents letting go of a situation and a person. A mix of comfort, confidence, and freedom. Before, I dressed basic and played it safe; now I can finally express myself and wear whatever I want, for myself, unapologetically. After the break-up, I truly feel that I improved a lot in my style and began expressing myself in a completely different light, which was extremely freeing. If I had to describe my outfit in one word, it would be: BITCHIN'.
Written and Photographed by Kyuri Bae
Model Bambi Ercan
"If I had to describe my outfit in one word, it would be: BITCHIN'"
TEEN
First sexual experiences are confusing, exciting, awkward, and unforgettable. They shape us in ways we rarely notice, and the stories we carry reveal the mess, the thrill, and the humanity of our first steps into Written by Aimee Wheeler
"We laughed as we heard Kung Fu Fighting playing in the background. That became our song"
How often do you think about your first time? That moment that, at the time, felt enormous, confusing, or even a little scary. Most of us try to forget it or at least gloss over how innocently naive we once were, no matter our age or experience. Yet those first encounters shape us in ways we rarely notice, leaving behind stories that are funny, awkward, tender, and unforgettable. Here, KISS KISS readers share their own experiences, offering a glimpse into the mix of nerves, curiosity, and discovery that comes with taking that first step.
Cadon, 19, from Devon
How did your first time happen?
My first time was with my first boyfriend, John. It was our second date. He was spending the day with me at my house for the first time, and we were home alone, sitting on my bed, playing Minecraft together, listening to one of my Barbra Streisand playlists. He was being silly, so I pushed him, and we started play-fighting. Suddenly, he was on top of me, and he kissed me. That was my first kiss. We kissed again, then suddenly we were having sex. It wasn't his first time, so he knew what he was doing. It lasted about half an hour as we explored each other's bodies. I was quite self-conscious and nervous about him exploring me.
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We eventually stopped and ended up lying there together under my duvet, his head on my chest, listening to music. We laughed as we heard the theme tune of Kung Fu Fighting, the original dodgy version playing in the background. That became our song, and it still makes me cringe when I hear it, as it is an unusual song to have tied to that sort of memory.
Any regrets?
I wish I'd been more confident in myself. He was dating me, kissing me, he found me hot, and that was powerful. I enjoyed the experience, and it was fun, but I do think of it negatively because we ended up breaking up a couple of weeks later, as we just weren't good together in a relationship. I'm sad that all my firsts happened on the same day: first kiss, first time, first time I officially had a boyfriend.
How do you view it now?
I view it positively and negatively, to be honest. When I think of it, I think of how I felt when he broke up with me, and that feeling wasn't nice. But It wasnt horrible, and we both connected in such a nice way, so it isn't a horrible memory. Having that experience gave me confidence when I decided to have sex again, and for that I am thankful.
How did your first time happen?
I was 15, in year 11, with my boyfriend of around one month. He'd had sex before and knew I was a virgin. It was a very common conversation topic in that first month; sex would often be brought up, always followed by "we'll do it when you're ready." But it was brought up so often that I did feel pressured. Eventually, when it happened I was thinking just to get it over and done with. We were round mine and watching a film, cuddling, and we started kissing, and then it ended in us having sex. I told him I was ready, and he made me feel safe and comfortable, but I felt as though it was definitely some sort of pressure that made me do it so soon.
Any regrets?
The next day at school, by lunchtime, I felt like half the school knew. He'd told all his friends, and naturally, I'd told mine. I don't regret it at all because I felt comfortable the whole time, and to me, that was the most important thing. But finding out it was being bragged about to a bunch of boys, that's when I sometimes wonder if it was with the right person.
How do you view it now?
Somewhere in between. Positive because I personally felt ready. Negative because the reaction afterwards made me feel quite insecure. For me, sex is such a personal, intimate moment, and having it shared with a lot of people wasn't what I wanted. It hasn't affected my relationship with sex, but doing it so young made it easy for other people to see me negatively, so my experience with boys at school changed, and I wasn't happy about it. Luckily, now I am in a relationship with someone who respects our intimacy and my body, and he wouldn't brag about it. Comparing my first to my current boyfriend has helped me appreciate how I am being treated and how I'd like to be treated.
How did your first time happen?
I lost my virginity in my bed at home. We were just two 15-year-old boys in the dark, figuring it all out for the first time. We didn't have any idea what we were doing. Keeping the lights off, I think, created a space where we could explore each other without feeling so perceived. It's strange how not seeing each other can remove so much pressure, even when engaging in arguably one of the most intimate human acts.
Any regrets?
I don't really remember what happened, but I remember how I felt, and that's the most important thing. I felt safe. The experience was as good as it could have possibly been. We were clueless, and I remember being sick with nerves but also giddy. It was overwhelmingly exciting, and I wouldn't have changed a thing.
How do you view it now?
There's definitely nothing negative to reflect on. We were both virgins, both exploring for the first time with no pressure of competing against each other's previous experience. We were attentive. We did it when we felt ready. I'm grateful that my first time was with someone I trusted and loved.
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I am grateful that I got to experience a (generally) healthy two-year relationship at a young age, which is rare for many gay men in our community. I'm 21 now, and I hear lots about falling into the trap of gay hook-up apps when they were underage, having sex for the first time with typically much older men who exploited their innocence for perverted pleasure. It's a common issue in my community, and I am grateful that it didn't happen to me.
Beth, 21, from Brighton
How did your first time happen?
I lost it when I was 17 to my boyfriend. It was nice, I felt comfortable with him, and it was with someone I was really in love with at the time, so I don't regret it at all. It was a very big deal for me as I hadn't been with anyone during secondary school like my other mates. I was very insecure and worried, but he made me feel calm and safe. I'd had lots of bullying in the past in that way; I was looked down on by others in secondary school, which made me so insecure, so I really waited until I found the right person. We were in my house, and no one was home. He was staying over, and it just happened. I kept as much clothing on as possible, and it hurt a lot! But it was nice.
Any regrets?
The only thing I regret is being scared of it for so long. I'm glad I did it when I did, but I wish I weren't so afraid and that people hadn't made me feel so insecure. I was still figuring out my sexuality, but the people in school were so horrible to me about my body that it really impacted me. The pressure to do it was definitely a reason I went through with it, as a lot of my friends did it in secondary school, so I was considered late or frigid in their eyes.
“I remember being sick with nerves but also giddy"
Although I don't regret it, I wish my views around it had been different.
How do you view it now?
Positively. The people around me at the time made me feel so happy and loved. My best friends made me a cake with the word "virgin" crossed out, and it was funny, but so thoughtful. In that moment, I felt seen and accepted and "I see my virginity understood, not judged for not having done it earlier, but something I can decide who to lose. we'ecided to give it back to myself as a christmas prese understood that it was a big deal to me. Without the people around and my boyfriend at the time, I think I'd still be a virgin. But now, with that experience, I've be- come a lot more confident and used to having sex.
Imogen 20 from deeds
How did your first time happen?
My first time was when I was 18. At the time, I was upset because I hadn't done it yet, and I felt so far behind everyone else (obviously, I was wrong).
I went out with friends on New Year's Eve, back in my hometown. There, I met a girl named Bella. We exchanged Instagrams, and after midnight, I found her for a kiss. She invited me back to hers, and of course, I said yes. Her house was a mess, and she gave me half a glass of gin and lemonade before we went upstairs. I put on Jeff Buckley, and we had sex. I remember having absolutely no idea what I was doing. It wasn't perfect, but I didn't care. I think we even had a round two, so I guess it wasn't that bad. Later, my mother gave me a lift home from the station and knew I hadn't been at the Airbnb. Thankfully, she ignored the hickey on my neck, and my giddy mood slowly returned with just a hint of embarrassment.
Any regrets?
Honestly, not really, it was chill. A bit awkward, a bit embarrassing, but altogether an easy one-night stand that I basically never had to think about again. Just the way I wanted it. I don't have any regrets that have stayed with me, my thoughts and experiences with other people, so for me, that is good.
Alfie, 22 from London
How did your first time happen?
I lost my virginity when I was 17 to a man whose name I do not know and never knew. I met him at an Airbnb on the road next to where a friend of mine lived. We started talking on Grindr. He didn't know I was 17 or that it was my first time. As soon as I got there, I wished I'd stayed at home, but felt too awkward to back out.
Any regrets?
I wish I'd waited for something special to happen rather than rushing into things. It wasn't the right time for me. I was depressed, sexually frustrated, living with my parents, and having intense feelings about my gender and identity. I wish I knew his name. I barely remember his face.
How do you view it now?
I never consider this to be my first time when looking back on life. I try not to think about it at all, to be honest. He was a kind man, and didn't force me into anything, but I still feel I shouldn't have gone there. It stands as a learning opportunity for me as a naïve teenager, but that is all. I've been too scared to have spontaneous relations with men ever since. I see my virginity as something I can decide when I lose. I've decided to give it back to myself as a Christmas present and re-virginise myself.
When debilitating memory loss disrupted the rhythm of Lia Keeble Otero's Spanish family, it forced them to rethink what love looks like...
Written by Lia Keeble Otero
In Spain, a Sunday lunch stretches long past dessert in the ritual of sobremesa, where people stay at the table long after the meal is over. Afternoons move between siesta and the beach, between food, noise and company. There are card games on the terrace, arguments over rules, and always someone in the kitchen. From the outside, it looks effortless, but this kind of life runs on structure.
In large, extended families like mine, there is always someone who remembers birthdays, keeps track of preferences, grudges, and traditions. The quiet organiser of everything. In mine, that person is my grandmother, Alicia De Agueda "Yaya”, now 81. She was the matriarch in the most operational sense of the word: dinners happened because she made them happen. Holidays functioned because she held them together. Our family ran for years on autopilot, and she was the system behind it. So when she began to forget, it wasn't just dates that slipped away but the system she had built. Her symptoms began after a stroke in 2022, and the diagnosis was confirmed two years later: dementia. At the time, it felt sudden, a moment that split everything into before, and after.
I imagined the worst version of it, awaiting the moment she would look at me and not know my name. The slow erasure of her personality. What I did not anticipate was that alongside the loss, something else would take shape, a different kind of love, expressed less through routine and through attention. Soon enough, phone calls became deliberate, visits became protective, and patience became essential. My grandfather, Bosco Otero “Abuelo”, now 84, who she divorced more than three decades ago, now calls frequently to ask how she is. My mother and her siblings coordinate medication, appointments, companionship. Decisions that once passed through my grandmother now move around her, not to exclude her, but to support her.
Nothing about the illness is easy. But it has forced all of us to participate in our family more consciously than before. At first, the changes were small enough to ignore. Yaya would begin a sentence and abandon it halfway through, or walk into a room and pause, unsure why she was there, or repeat the same story within one conversation.
Eva Vinader, a cognitive stimulation specialist who has worked with families navigating dementia for over a decade, explained that memory is not singular. “There is semantic memory - what we learn and store as information and episodic memory, which is tied to lived experience and emotion," she says. "In vascular dementia, recent memory weakens first. The brain struggles to store new information, but older memories, especially emotional ones, often remain intact far longer. That's why someone may forget what they ate yesterday but remember, in vivid detail, the street they grew up on," she adds. "It's not about attention or care, it's about how the brain is processing and storing information.”
When my grandmother asks me, again, when I moved to London, despite having lived there for three years, it reflects a difficulty in retaining new information rather than a lack of attention or care. She now attends sessions twice a week at MemoriK with the director Eva Vinader. MemoriK is a cognitive stimulation centre where patients with dementia and Alzheimer's work on exercises designed to support short-term memory, working on memory skills from spelling to guided recollection. Like many living through the beginning stages of dementia, Yaya recognises when something escapes her recollection and feels the frustration when misplacing her keys. She notices when a thought dissolves halfway through a sentence. “It's like waking up and not quite knowing why you're awake," Yaya says, laughing.
Humour has always been her instinct. If she cannot re- member something, she often makes the joke before any- one else can react. Before the diagnosis, she woke up early every day to prepare a careful breakfast before taking her morning walk. She had long lunches, siestas, enjoye cards and conversation. Her routine gave her agency, and now it was faltering. For someone who built her life on independence, the loss is unsettling. "I can't go on my walks alone anymore, I get lost.” The routines she once maintained now require coordination. Someone checks whether she has eaten and taken her medication. Someone walks with her or calls in the evening if she feels disoriented. "When one person changes, the rest of the family changes with them,” says Vinader.
The most unexpected transformation has been her relationship with my grandfather. For most of my life, their dynamic existed within careful boundaries, respectful, distant, resolved. Their divorce felt like a fixed point in our family history. Holidays were negotiated. Presence was measured. And yet, since the diagnosis, he has stepped back into proximity. He asks how she slept and insists she does not walk alone. When she visits Murcia, where he lives, he walks with her along the beach, pushing through the pain of a knee surgery he underwent three years ago, when we were not sure he would walk properly again.
Dementia has not brought them back together in the way people expect. It has not erased the distance of their divorce. Instead, it has changed the way they show up for one another. This is not a romantic reconciliation or the erasure of their divorce. It is something steadier. It was his response that made the situation feel real. The changes in my grandmother had been gradual, easy at times to minimise or explain away. But with him, it felt immediate, like something had shifted that could not be ignored. In our family, stepping in to support her was never a question. But his involvement felt different. It carried a sense of urgency, of something like now or never. Watching him show up for her made something clearer to me. Not through anything that was said directly, but through what he chose to do, the calls, the walks, the quiet consistency. It made me realise that love does not necessarily disappear. Sometimes it changes form, becoming visible in what people do rather than what they say.
"I can't go on my walks alone anymore, I get lost"
Vinader is not surprised. "In general, dementia does bring families closer,” she says. “When someone becomes visibly vulnerable, it often generates a need to protect.” Not every family responds this way. History, distance, personality, all of it matters. But in ours, something softened. To understand how illness reshapes relationships, psychologist Ana Delso, who specialises in relationships and family dynamics, explains that what is happening within families is a form of adaptation. “Illness forces families into awareness,” she said. “What once ran automatically now requires intention, and intention changes dynamics.”
For younger generations especially, serious illness destabilises our assumptions about permanence. We are trained to archive love, photos, messages, shared timelines, as proof of continuity. We fear disappearance more than transformation. But illness resists documentation. It demands presence. "What often determines how families experience illness is not only the diagnosis itself, but the response they choose,” she says. "Some resist it, some deny it, others reorganise around it. Cross each bridge when you reach it. Live in the version of your loved one that is in front of you."
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"When one person changes, the rest of the family changes with them"
Speaking to both Vinader and Delso changed the way I understood what was happening in my family. What I had first experienced as disruption began to look more like something else, quieter, more deliberate. It wasn't that the illness had brought us closer in the way people often describe. It was that it had changed how we showed up for one another.
"Care may even be the most durable form of love," Delso says. My grandmother still laughs when she forgets something obvious. Once, when she couldn't remember whether she had already eaten breakfast, she shrugged and said, “Well, if I eat twice, at least I won't be hungry"
We laugh, and so does she.
Why can't lovers be together forever?
Our pick of 'bad-ending' love stories
If true love exists, why can't people in love make it to the end?
KISS KISS rounds up the best films and TV series with the saddest endings
If someone walks into your life and, by some ridiculous coincidence, they love the same books, the same kind of films, even the same niche little hobbies, so much so they feel like another version of you, would you fall for them? That's exactly what happens to Mugi Yamane and Kinu Hachiya. Late one night at a subway station, missing the last train throws two young strangers together. As they talk, they're almost stunned by how closely their habits, tastes, and values line up. Affection grows quietly, and becoming a couple feels like the most natural thing in the world. Then graduation arrives, and reality with it. A relationship held up mainly by ideals can turn out to be far more fragile than it ever seemed.
Lovers who keep missing each other might just not have the "inyeon” to be together
Can perfectly matched soulmates really stay together forever?
Nora, a Korean woman who moved to the US as a child, lives between two worlds. With her childhood friend Hae Sung, she shares the same early memories and the same mother tongue. In her new life, though, she learns to love in a different language, at a different pace. Her first love is cut short by migration in the 1990s. Twelve years later, they reconnect on Facebook, only to let go again as the couple is pulled in different directions by the lives they have chosen. Another 12 years pass before they finally meet in the same city, all grown up. The film returns repeatedly to the idea of “inyeon”: this is not a cheesy version of “meant to be” instead it's closer to a distinctly East Asian sense of karmic ties. It is an explanation for why two lives cross at one moment, and why, in the end, they may still only brush past each other.
The moment we chose to say goodbye, we loved each other most
Adam is a screenwriter living in a high-rise in London. The building is almost empty, and so is his life. One night, his neighbour Harry shows up at his door, drunk, and cracks open what looks like Adam's quiet routine. They don't really connect that first time, but fate has a way of looping back. Again and again, it pushes them into each other's path. And almost without meaning to, they slip into something intimate. And then the world starts to tilt. More and more things happen that simply don't make sense, as if from the very beginning, something about all of this was fundamentally wrong. The film is built on a chain of twists, each one locking neatly into the next. By the end, you'll understand – suddenly, painfully – and you might find yourself crying before you even realise it.
The most painful kind of separation in the world
In Portrait of a Lady on Fire, love arrives with a countdown already ticking. On an isolated island in the 18th century, the painter Marianne is commissioned to create a wedding portrait of Héloïse. Héloïse refuses to sit. She knows the day the portrait is finished is the day her freedom ends. Marianne is made to pose as her walking companion, spending ordinary days beside her while quietly studying Héloïse – her profile, the way she holds her hands, the set of her mouth – so she can paint the portrait later from memory. At this moment, looking stops being observation and becomes recognition. They begin to watch each other, understand each other, and hold each other close on the windswept island, as if warmth could be made from nothing but a shared gaze. They know the world will not bless them. The engagement will not be undone. The island is not a refuge. And yet this love is still worth beginning.
What if the person you love is only your hallucination?
A Touch of Green is adapted from the short story of may not be love fading but being torn apart by life the same name in Pai Hsien yung's Taipei People. Set
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A Touch of Green in the turbulent years from the aftermath of World War II through the Chinese Civil War and the period surrounding the retreat to Taiwan, it follows the love between Zhu Qing, a university student, and Guo Zhen, an air force officer, under the shadow of war. But in that era, love is never just a private matter. Flights, orders, transfers, departures, an invisible hand turns "see you tomorrow” into an unimaginable luxury. As you watch, you may not even be sure why you're crying: for the brief, blazing intensity of love, or for the heavier weight of systems, history, and wartime trauma. One of the series "When men's war ends, women's war begins.” It captures the show's core idea that the aftermath is often shouldered by those who are left behind.
"There is an abundance of love in this world - if you haven't found it yet, it's coming.”
"The more you love yourself, the more you'll attract the kind of love you deserve."
"Allow yourself to be sad. It might feel like the end of the world, and in that moment it is - but you'll be okay on the other side."
"Don't rush into things - get to know someone properly before giving them everything."
"It's okay to let go - holding on to the past stops you from finding something better."
PACO
Profuta
"Take your time. You've got your whole life to find the right person."
"Always stay true to yourself - honesty and morals matter more than anything else."
"When it's real love, it feels calm and natural not anxious or consuming."
"Don't chase love - just know that anything can happen."
KISS-KISS-2026