Romance; what is it? Is romance defined in the cheesy Harlequin romance novels that my mother has read religiously for years? I don't believe so. I have had a few relationships in my time. There are a few things that define romance as I see it. I was dating one guy who remembered a conversation we had once about our favorite childhood movies; that Christmas, he bought me Charlotte's Web on VHS. That meant more to me than a piece of jewelery. To me, it said "What you say is important and I am listening". Another gift from another was a brilliant orange rose with a note attached that read "For my beautiful orange rose in a world full of red ones". To me, that said "You are unique and inspire me to convey that". Still another man remembered that a few years before, I had mentioned that I liked halibut. When we first started seeing one another, he invited me over for dinner, surprising me with, you guessed it, halibut. Especially cute was that fact that he rarely cooked; it turned out pretty darn tasty.

I have never been wooed by poetry and pet names. Poetry, at least to me, is so overdone; I would rather have a man awkwardly state his feelings for me than try to woo me with flowery words. For some reason, the awkward attempt means more, especially if I can see it in their eyes. Pet names like Babe, Honey, Sugar etc. make my teeth hurt. Instead, I prefer it when a man uses my name. First of all, everyone likes hearing their own name. Secondly, it tells me they know who they are talking to; any smart man knows this. So, although I don't mind the occasional term of endearment, I would much rather they use my name. A big favorite of mine? "I love you, Sam". Easily said, and to me, it means more than "I love you, babe". Besides, Babe is a pig and not an adult woman.

Unfortunately, some men do not clue into these things. They instead turn to the tried and true; a dozen roses, fancy dinner, jewelery. Not that these things aren't nice, but they lack originality. Plus, they cost a fortune and the poor men run themselves into the ground trying to "romance" women. This doesn't cut it for me. Money doesn't impress me, treating me like I am special does.

Learn more about this author, Samantha Farrow.
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