Romantic comedies often get written off as fluffy or unrealistic, but I’ve always found meaning in them as more than just silly comfort movies. Growing up, they reassured me that love was part of being human. Now, they help me understand that love and friendship are intentional and imperfect. These movies, as lighthearted as they seem, continue to influence how I connect with others and what I hope for in my own relationships as I enter my 20s.
On the dorm wall next to my bed hangs an 18” x 24” poster of Bridget Jones’s Diary, my all-time favorite romantic comedy, and I’ve watched a lot of romantic comedies. In fact, I even keep a running spreadsheet of every rom-com I’ve seen, complete with a respective 0-10 rating and little notes from each watch. As someone who lives and breathes the genre, I truly believe rom-coms are more insightful than people give them credit for, and we can all learn a thing or two from them.
Still, the genre is often misconstrued as cheesy, predictable, or disconnected from real life. And sure, there are some pretty bad rom-coms out there (cough… cough… Anyone But You). But for me, rom-coms have shaped how I understand love and taught me the importance of embracing imperfections. They became especially meaningful when I was 15 and was just starting to explore relationships. Back then, they gave me comfort and reassurance that what I was feeling was part of the universal human experience, and I wasn’t just going insane. Now, at almost 20, I can appreciate them in a new light.
- All Hail the Friends-to-Lovers Trope
I’d be doing a disservice to the genre if I talked about rom-coms without mentioning the 1989 classic often crowned the best rom-com of all time: When Harry Met Sally. I first watched this film on a plane back from a trip to NYC (fittingly) and rewatched it every fall since. This film is the ultimate depiction of a friends-to-lovers slow burn wherein Harry and Sally’s relationship develops after having known each other for over a decade.
What I love about this film is that they see and understand each other’s flaws first, only to then realize they’re what make the relationship work. This film taught me how much I value a relationship built on friendship as the foundation. Vulnerability and authenticity can actually thrive without the pressure of putting on an ideal version of yourself that the other person might find desirable. I’ve learned not to prolong relationships where I appear as anyone other than myself and nourish those where I do. When you can be messy, honest, and fully yourself, that’s when love has space to grow.
- “If You Look for It, You’ll Find That Love Actually Is All Around”
To the people who didn’t immediately know which film I’m referencing, this quote comes from Love Actually. This Christmas rom-com showcases love in all its manifestations: from small, everyday gestures to grand romantic leaps across the world. It’s the movie that made me love love. Every rewatch reminds me that love is intentional; it’s built through effort, actions, and words, not something you just fall into, ironically.
That’s why I cringe at the rise of “situationships,” which tend to normalize low-effort, low-commitment interactions measured by the amount of romantic validation received. I get why they exist; humans crave closeness and quick validation. But Love Actually showed me that love is most fulfilling when it’s practiced actively and we’re willing to share the fundamental parts of ourselves: our joy, our sadness, and our humor. That lesson extends beyond romance, too. Showing up for my friends and family consistently in small ways like sharing about my day and worries, listening to theirs, and appreciating our presence together helps me build stronger, more meaningful relationships.
- Confidence in Imperfection, Not Perfection.
Which brings me back to my most treasured comfort film: Bridget Jones’s Diary. Unbeknownst to me the first time I watched it, this film is actually a retelling of Pride and Prejudice. Bridget Jones is torn between Daniel, her arrogant boss, and Mark (last name Darcy, obviously). Daniel is drawn to her in a condescending manner; he’s amused by the absurdity of a figure like him being with someone he deems pathetic and naive. Mark, on the other hand, admires her quirks and embraces her imperfections.
Bridget’s clumsiness and impulsivity often land her in messy situations, but she’s as disorganized as she is self-assured. As someone recently diagnosed with ADHD, I find a lot of comfort in Bridget. I constantly wrestle with the fear of coming across incompetent or unintelligent, and I often overcompensate by trying to perform intelligence instead of letting myself learn and grow naturally. Bridget faces similar doubts. At Daniel’s publishing firm, she’s ridiculed and dismissed until she switches careers and thrives as a TV journalist, despite a few missteps; symbolic of her leap from being overlooked to showing her full self for others to love her just as she is. It’s reassuring to see that someone like Bridget—someone like me—can succeed professionally despite habits or ways of being that don’t always fit conventional expectations. Her story reassures me that the right person won’t see my quirks as flaws to be corrected, but as traits to be appreciated and loved.
Ask anyone who knows me: I’m not an outwardly affectionate person, which is why it might surprise people that I’m so drawn to rom-coms. I know they are heavily dramatized (sometimes ridiculously so), but I don’t rule my romantic encounters by whether they are “rom-com worthy,” otherwise rejected. Instead, this type of media has helped me develop a conception of real love I cherish deeply and is unique to me.
As I enter my 20s, I carry those lessons with me: to value friendship as the base of love, to be intentional in how I show up for others, and to embrace imperfection as part of what makes a connection real. This is what I believe is the real “love from the movies.” Rom-coms may be a little cheesy and unrealistic, but they’ve shaped how I give and receive love, and how I navigate one of the most intrinsic parts of what it means to be human.