Nana Banana
On Valentine’s Day, or indeed any day where grand romantic gestures dominate popular culture, there’s an enduring temptation to believe that somewhere out there exists "The One"—a singular soulmate, a perfect match, the person you were unequivocally meant to be with. This romantic ideal, steeped in centuries of human longing and storytelling, suggests a destiny woven into the fabric of the universe, guiding two individuals towards an inevitable union that promises completeness and effortless bliss.
Across history, humanity has consistently been captivated by the notion that love isn’t merely a random occurrence but a pre-ordained connection. In ancient Greece, the philosopher Plato articulated a poignant myth in his dialogue Symposium. He imagined that humans were once magnificent, whole beings, possessing four arms, four legs, and two faces. Their immense power and radiance, however, provoked the wrath of Zeus, who, in a punitive act, split them into two halves. Ever since, these sundered halves have roamed the earth, each desperately searching for its missing other. This powerful myth provides the modern soulmate concept with its profound poetic pedigree, offering the comforting promise that somewhere, someone will finally make us feel utterly complete and whole again.
The longing for a singular, destined love evolved through different cultural lenses. In the Middle Ages, the emergence of troubadours and the epic Arthurian tales reshaped this yearning into the concept of "courtly love." This was often a fierce, frequently forbidden devotion, exemplified by the legendary passion of Lancelot for Guinevere. In these narratives, a knight proved his worth through acts of self-sacrifice and unwavering service for a beloved he might never openly declare or physically possess, elevating love to a spiritual and aspirational plane. By the Renaissance, literary giants such as William Shakespeare introduced the idea of "star-crossed lovers" – couples bound together by an overwhelming, almost cosmic connection, yet tragically pulled apart by external forces like warring families, cruel fortune, or inescapable fate. It was as if the universe itself both penned their intense love story and simultaneously conspired to deny them a happy, conventional ending. In more recent times, the narratives of Hollywood blockbusters and popular romance novels have further solidified these fairy tale visions of love, perpetuating the myth of an effortless, perfect partnership.
But as the modern world increasingly seeks empirical answers, what does the latest science, psychology, and even mathematics say about soulmates? Is there truly a particular, special someone pre-destined for each of us, or is the reality of enduring love far more complex and perhaps, more within our own making?
How We Fall for ‘The One’
Viren Swami, a Professor of Social Psychology at Anglia Ruskin University (ARU) in Cambridge, has meticulously traced the origins of our contemporary European understanding of romantic love. He argues that its roots lie firmly in medieval Europe, specifically in the sweeping popularity of stories like those of Camelot, Lancelot, Guinevere, and the chivalry of the Knights of the Round Table. "These stories first pushed the idea that you should choose one other individual as your companion and that companion is for life," Professor Swami explains. Before this influential period, in much of Europe, the concept of love was far more fluid and less prescriptive. Individuals could express affection for multiple people, and love itself was often distinct from notions of exclusive partnership or sexual fidelity.
Over centuries, as societies underwent profound transformations, particularly with the advent of industrialisation, people were uprooted from their traditional agricultural communities. This dramatic societal shift severed familiar attachments and communal support systems, leading to a widespread sense of individual "alienation." In this new, dislocated reality, Swami posits, individuals began to seek a singular, all-encompassing bond to fill the void. "They start looking for one other individual to save them, to save them from the wretchedness of their lives," he notes, highlighting the profound psychological and emotional need that the soulmate ideal came to address.
Paradoxically, today’s ubiquitous dating apps, while seemingly offering a direct path to "The One," often transform this search into what Swami critically terms "relation-shopping." The sheer volume of profiles and the swipe-based mechanics can turn the profound quest for a soulmate into an almost transactional, and often "soulless," experience. "You’re shopping for a partner… going through possibly dozens of people on the dating app until you get to a point where you go… I need to stop," he observes, pointing to the emotional fatigue and disillusionment that can accompany an endless digital pursuit of perfection.
The One (But Not the Soulmate)
Jason Carroll, Professor of Marriage and Family Studies at Brigham Young University in Provo, Utah, acknowledges the powerful human longing for a unique connection. "We are attachment-based creatures," he states, recognising the inherent human desire for a deep, enduring bond. However, in his lectures, he urges students to critically re-evaluate the idea of a "soulmate" without relinquishing their desire for "The One." This might sound like a semantic contradiction, but for Carroll, it marks a crucial distinction between passive destiny and active, intentional effort.
For Carroll, a "soulmate" is simply found—a pre-made, perfectly aligned entity awaiting discovery. In contrast, a "one and only" is something profoundly created. It is "something two people carve out together over years of adapting, apologising, and occasionally gritting their teeth," he elaborates. This perspective shifts the focus from a predetermined match to a dynamic, evolving partnership built through shared experiences, mutual commitment, and deliberate effort.
The Soulmate Trap
Carroll’s compelling argument is rooted in decades of robust research, which he synthesised in his impactful report, "The Soulmate Trap." A core tenet of this work distinguishes between two fundamental relationship mindsets: "destiny beliefs" and "growth beliefs." Destiny beliefs operate on the premise that if a relationship is "meant to be," it should feel inherently effortless, devoid of significant conflict or struggle. Any friction is interpreted as a sign that the partnership is not, in fact, "The One." Conversely, "growth beliefs" centre on the proactive role partners play in nurturing and improving their relationship, understanding that challenges are inevitable and offer opportunities for development.
Seminal studies conducted in the late 1990s and early 2000s, led by Professor C. Raymond Knee at the University of Houston, provided significant empirical support for this distinction. Researchers consistently found that individuals who strongly held destiny beliefs were far more prone to doubting their commitment and questioning the viability of their relationship after experiencing conflict. In stark contrast, those with more growth-minded perspectives tended to remain more committed and resilient, even on days marked by arguments or disagreements. They viewed challenges not as deal-breakers, but as hurdles to be overcome together.
Carroll argues that those with growth-based views still aspire to a special, unique connection, but they approach it with a realistic expectation of "rough patches." Instead of abandoning ship at the first sign of trouble, "They ask… what can they do to make their relationship better, have improvement and have growth?" he explains. The soulmate belief, in this context, becomes a trap—not because romance itself is inherently flawed, but because it fosters an unrealistic expectation that love should never be hard, never require effort or compromise.
The most "soulful" and profound aspect of a long-term relationship, Carroll suggests, isn’t a cinematic, electrifying charge, but rather the privilege of having "front-row seats not only for each other’s strengths, but… [their] challenges and weaknesses." This intimate, vulnerable sharing creates a truly "sacred space," he contends, because "We only know those things because they’ve let us be there." When love is framed as an immutable fate, people become less willing to engage in the unglamorous, often difficult work that truly sustains and deepens a bond. The soulmate trap, therefore, makes it significantly harder for relationships to navigate their inevitable first serious snag. "The first time there’s any type of struggle, the immediate thought is, ‘well, I thought you were my soulmate. But maybe you’re not, because soulmates aren’t supposed to deal with things’," Carroll illustrates. He concludes with a pragmatic truth: "But if relationships are going to go long term, it’s never just going to be a downhill run."
Spark or Trauma?
Beyond psychological beliefs, our internal emotional responses can also lead us astray in the search for "The One." Vicki Pavitt, a London-based love coach, frequently works with clients who believed they had found their soulmate, only to discover that the intense "fairy tale" chemistry was accompanied by emotional manipulation, inconsistent behaviour, and a pervasive sense of anxiety. "When there is a lot of chemistry and the spark, I think that can sometimes be about opening old unhealthy patterns, like old wounds," she cautions.
Pavitt explains that a partner who exhibits inconsistent behaviour—alternating between intense affection and cold detachment, or "hot and cold"—can inadvertently create a powerful, addictive dynamic. This intermittent reinforcement can make an individual feel an overwhelming desire to "win" the partner’s consistent affection, leading to the mistaken belief of an irresistible connection. "A person who is inconsistent or plays a bit hot and cold can make you feel ‘I can’t wait to see them again’, but what’s really happening is they’re giving you so much anxiety and that it has you wanting more," she clarifies.
What feels like destiny or an undeniable pull, Pavitt suggests, may actually be a deeper, more primal response from our nervous system, unconsciously recognising something that hurt us in the past and attempting to "fix" or resolve that old wound. This psychological pattern is often referred to by therapists as a "trauma bond." Such a bond can deceptively mimic profound love, magnetically drawing individuals into unhealthy dynamics not because they are a perfect match, but precisely because the dynamics are familiar, however painful.
A significant study by Canadian psychologists Donald Dutton and Susan Painter, published in 1993 during their time at the University of British Columbia, lent weight to this concept. They followed 75 women after they had left abusive partners, meticulously measuring the strength of their continued attachment to their exes and correlating it with the nature of their previous relationships. Their findings were striking: the strongest emotional bonds were not observed in women who had experienced consistent abuse, but rather in those whose partners had alternated between periods of charm and intense cruelty. Dutton and Painter argued that this "trauma bond" helps explain why individuals can feel powerfully magnetised back to relationships that are objectively detrimental to their well-being—because the volatile mix of danger and affection, though harmful, feels familiar rather than healthy.
It is this critical distinction that Pavitt endeavours to illuminate in her coaching practice. "It’s about discerning whether the chemistry you feel is showing me this person’s compatible with me or if it is a familiar sense of anxiety," she states. For Pavitt, the very language of soulmates can be problematic. "In my language, I never talk about soulmates," she says. "I don’t personally believe that there is one person for everybody… but I do believe that we become ‘The One’ for someone." This reframing places agency and effort at the heart of forming a deeply meaningful connection.
Real Chemistry, Shifting Bonds
If ruling out the existence of a singular, predestined soulmate sounds overly unromantic, the complex biology of attraction offers further evidence pointing in the same direction. Our physiological make-up and even medical interventions can subtly, yet significantly, reshape how we perceive and feel about potential partners.
One intriguing area of research concerns hormonal contraceptives. Studies suggest that birth control pills, which typically flatten the natural ebb and flow of a woman’s fertility cycle, can dampen the subtle shifts in attraction that normally occur across the menstrual cycle. This can potentially alter initial mate choice, influencing who a woman is drawn to when she first meets a partner while on hormonal contraception, compared to if she were not.
A large-scale study involving 365 heterosexual couples provided compelling insights into these effects. It found that women’s sexual satisfaction was notably higher when their current contraceptive status matched what it was when they initially chose their partner. This subtle yet measurable effect hints that changes in pill use, such as starting or stopping hormonal contraception, can subtly, but perceptibly, change how a partner is experienced and the level of attraction felt towards them. While these effects are generally small, they collectively help explain some couples’ puzzling and seemingly inexplicable shifts in chemistry over time, making it harder to argue for a single, biologically pre-ordained match.
The One, But Not the Only
While psychology and biology offer one lens through which to examine "The One," mathematics provides another, equally compelling perspective. Dr. Greg Leo, an economist at Vanderbilt University in Nashville, Tennessee, has developed a sophisticated compatibility algorithm that suggests a fascinating conclusion: you might not just have "A One," but rather a multitude of "Ones."
In his "Matching Soulmates" paper, published in the Journal of Public Economic Theory, Leo creates computer simulations featuring thousands of digitally generated daters who rank each other based on preference. His algorithm then identifies "first-order soulmates"—pairs who mutually choose each other in a stable matching scenario. These pairs are then removed from the pool, and the algorithm runs again with the remaining daters, identifying "second-order soulmates," and so on.
Leo’s simulations revealed that it was extremely rare for any individual to find their mutual first pick. However, a significant number of people did find stable matches with individuals who were their second or third picks, or even further down their initial preference list. In this algorithmic scenario, a couple is considered "happy" or "stable" if each person is near the top of the other’s preference list, and neither can find an alternative partner whom both they and that alternative partner would mutually prefer more. This elegant number-crunching exercise delivers a powerful message: there are many viable, deeply compatible partners for each of us, not just one singular, fated "The One."
Sweat the Small Stuff
So, if the science points away from a singular, pre-destined soulmate, how then can a couple actively co-create their own version of "The One"? Jacqui Gabb, Professor of Sociology and Intimacy at The Open University, explored this very question in her seminal "Enduring Love" project, published in the journal Sociology in 2015.
The project was extensive, surveying approximately 5,000 individuals and then following 50 diverse couples in forensic, sometimes intrusive detail. This involved combining statistical data with personal diaries, in-depth interviews, and "emotion maps" charting daily interactions within the home. When Professor Gabb asked participants what made them feel truly appreciated and loved, the responses were surprisingly mundane, yet profoundly meaningful. It wasn’t elaborate sunset proposals or surprise trips to Paris that topped the list.
Instead, what emerged as most powerful were "surprise gifts, thoughtful gestures and the kindness of a cup of tea in bed." Other examples included warming the car on a cold morning, picking wildflowers and placing them in a vase, or sharing a private, knowing smile across a crowded room at a party. Quantitatively, what Gabb termed these "everyday attentive acts" proved to be far more impactful and cherished than grand, infrequent romantic gestures. In her survey, a significant 22% of mothers and 20% of childless women identified such small, consistent gestures as one of the top two things that made them feel most valued—outranking even big nights out or expensive presents.
The overarching finding was that relationship satisfaction, according to the data, was not primarily about wealth or conventional romance. Instead, it revolved around "intimate couple knowledge" and the consistent, thoughtful expression of that knowledge in daily life. Gabb cited an entry from a young couple’s diary provided for the project. Sumaira described her partner coming home, the dinner she had cooked, the hug in the hallway, and the two of them eating together at the table. "It’s perfect," she wrote in her research diary. "Just us and food. What more could I want?" The entry continued with a spontaneous dance in the living room, a walk in long grass where she briefly felt scared of the dark, and a photo her partner loved so much he made it his phone background.
This reads not like a fairy tale of destined perfection, but a rich, authentic everyday narrative: no glass slippers, but wellington boots and shared anxieties. Yet, Gabb astutely points out that woven through the apparent sweetness were very real challenges: money worries, family obligations, and a history of depression—all issues the couple were learning to navigate and manage together. "The soulmate feeling here doesn’t float above life; it is made, inch by inch, by life, in the way the pair meet those pressures," she concludes. The magic isn’t in escaping reality, but in building connection within it.
The Valentine’s Truth
Ultimately, the rigorous findings of science, psychology, and even mathematics do not diminish romance; rather, they offer a more grounded and resilient path for it to bloom, flourishing robustly through both good times and bad. As Professor Carroll wisely articulates, "I’m pretty comfortable with the aspiration to be in a unique special relationship as long as we remember it needs to be created." The desire for a profound connection is natural and healthy, but the expectation of effortless destiny can be its undoing.
Vicki Pavitt echoes this sentiment, suggesting that "it’s fine, helpful, even to have faith that your person is out there, so long as you know there are many people that you could form a really great connection with and stop expecting anyone to be perfect." The pressure of finding a single, flawless individual can be debilitating and prevent us from appreciating the real, imperfect beauty of human connection.
As for the enduring ideal of soulmates, the science points to a powerful paradox. The individuals who ultimately cultivate relationships that feel uniquely "meant to be"—relationships imbued with a profound sense of destiny and deep connection—are often precisely the ones who ceased passively waiting for fate to deliver perfection. Instead, they consciously turned towards the flawed, complex, and very real person in front of them, and with intention and effort, effectively said: "Shall we make something extraordinary of this?" It is in this active co-creation, rather than passive discovery, that the truest and most enduring form of soulmate love is found.
Roy Suryo
Ramos Leo
Nakalama John