It's funny what we remember from relationships.
Despite the countless words lobbed back and forth, the battle of the wits to be both mysterious and interesting, the premeditated talking points, and the verbal ping-pong matches, our post-breakup memory is nothing more highlight reel of best hits. Some mental bullet points to summarize your time together, for better or for worse.
We distill weeks, months, or years into a few words, pauses, and lines. And it's often the words that seemed insignificant in the moment that color your memory of the relationship.
You can take your clever conversation and shove it.
In honor of Valentine's Day, I've taken stock of the most memorable men in my life. A brief fling or a big love, there are a few men I'll always remember because of their great lines.
And this is how they'll always live in my memory. The men and their sticky lines.
Five S's of a Sticky Complement.
Selfish
I'll forget a line that only benefits me. I'll happily repay "you look pretty" or "you're really great" with pecks and flirty nudges. But trite one-liners inevitably become the property of the compliment catchall bin, filled with recycled unidentifiable material belonging to dozens of suitors before you.
Some of the most potent one-liners are both self serving and kind. A selfish compliment:
"You're insatiably curious and I need to be around that."
All of a sudden, you're not just awesome. You're doing someone a favor by being awesome. Behavioral studies show we're happier when we do things to benefit others over ourselves. When we hear a selfish compliment, our reward centers are activated. We feel good because we've done good.
I want to hear that I make you a better person. I want to feel like I've done an act of service (which in some relationships feels literally true). What's better than romance than romance with an altruistic high?
Seasonable
A few years ago, I was deep in the existential muck of making a huge professional jump. I had no idea what I was doing, but was dating someone who did. And so his compliments became flotation devices. They were deeply meaningful and strongly encoded because they were relevant at that time.
"If we weren't dating, I'd want you to be my co-founder."
The right compliment at the right time from the right person will stick. Our brains seek confirmation bias. We look for and attach to information that offers us validation, calms our anxiety, and affirms our path. Words that say, "You got this sh**."
If you want someone's undivided attention, ask yourself: What are they most hungry for right now? What's the best thing they can hear in that moment?
This is not to say you tell someone something just because they want to hear it. This is to say you can create a meaningful compliment by being temporally sensitive.
Scarcity
We all want to be special snowflakes. We also want to be wanted. Combined, this creates the law of romantic supply and demand.
In a world with unlimited choice and decision paralysis, it's easy to lose confidence in our romantic capital. What sets us apart? Why do we deserve to be wanted?
A compliment is wickedly powerful if it reminds someone why they're a scarce resource.
"When we met, you looked me in the eyes, you were present, you listened. I knew you were different - one of the good ones."
Behavioral economics tells us that we place a higher value on things that are scarce. And evolutionary theory's "negative frequency-dependent sexual selection" says we prefer mates with rare traits.
If you tell someone why replacing them would be at worst, impossible, and at best, a pain in the ass, you're scratching their evolutionary itch to feel like a rare bird.
Spontaneous
I woke up the other morning to an unexpected text. To contextualize the degree of randomness, it was from a serial entrepreneur I met at The Surf Lodge in Montauk... on a bachelorette weekend... two years ago.
"Was thinking of you and was oddly proud of what you're accomplishing - embrace the struggle."
The text was sent at a sober hour of the morning. There was no follow-up or offer for rendevouz part deux. Just fifteen sweet, spontaneous, unsolicited words that stuck.
We remember unexpected compliments because our brain favors novelty. When the hippocampus, the brain's "novelty detector," senses novel stimuli, it triggers the release of dopamine. This feedback mechanism allows us to more easily encode, store, and retain novel information.
So offer a compliment when someone least expects it. Their brain can't help but pay attention.
Submissive
Despite my front as an independent woman who supports herself and knows how to fix the garbage disposal, I relish the moments I can feel maternal. And I'd imagine feeling like a potent paternal provider would be similarly empowering.
I tend to remember compliments that stir up submission, vulnerability, and interdependence. At the risk of sounding Freudian, we're biologically hardwired to find maternal and paternal roles rewarding.
"You teach me things I don't know. You make me oatmeal in the morning. I feel safe around you."
Might sound silly, but this is what relationships are made of. Oatmeal and teaching each other stuff.
Tell someone how they take care of you. Even if strollers and eco-friendly diapers aren't on the near horizon, you're stroking an engrained psychological need to care and be cared for.
And so these are some of the big men and their sticky lines.
For Valentine's Day, give something that can't expire or wilt, get lost or returned, or be covered by the faulty dust of memory. Lock down your status in your partner's mental archives and tell them something they'll remember in fifty years. Give a gift they can open again and again - literally a complement for the ages.