Why One Day of Romance a Year Is a Terrible Plan

 And What Surprise Months Do Instead

Every February, couples get the same assignment: Make romance happen. Today. Get it right.

Valentine's Day comes with a lot of pressure for something that's supposed to feel fun and romantic. Reservations sell out. Social media fills up with highlight reels. ...Make sure to get those flowers at the grocery store!

All of this, and yet the day can all too often feel flat, awkward, stressful, and simultaneously underwhelming and overwhelming. It can leave a strange emotional residue—like you somehow failed at something, even while trying your best.

What I see again and again (both personally and professionally) is that the culprit isn't a lack of care. One day a year is a fragile container for something as complex as connection.

So what if we stopped concentrating all that energy into February 14th—and spread it out across the entire year instead?

Why We Created Surprise Months

In my work with couples—and in our own relationship—Scott and I kept bumping into the same thing: surprise matters, novelty matters, and feeling thought about matters.

And… even knowing this, Scott and I were not great at bringing it to life.

We'd talk about doing more intentional and connecting things together…things that fell somewhere in the vicinity of "surprises." We'd genuinely mean it. Then life would happen—work, routines, logistics, fatigue—and all of our good intentions somehow didn't materialize.

What we needed wasn't more motivation. We needed structure.

That's how Surprise Months were born: a simple framework to make sure connection didn't rely on mood, memory, or spontaneity alone (and that it also didn't get saved up for one day a year!).

Romance made repeatable!

How Surprise Months Work

The structure is intentionally simple:

—You alternate months.

—One partner plans something during their month.

—Then switch roles the next month.

That's it.

The "surprise" can be anything:

• a planned date

• a walk at sunrise

• a card with a nice message left on the steering wheel of the car

• a shared experience at home

Some surprises cost money. Some don't. Some take planning. Some are more spontaneous.

The only real rule is consistency in taking turns.

That way, one person isn't always carrying the relational load—and connection and surprises become something you expect (think: look forward to in a good way), not something you hope will magically happen.

A Very Real (and Imperfect) Beginning

When Scott and I decided to start Surprise Months, we were… not good at it. At all. Like, four months of bad at it.

The first month, I forgot entirely—until the last day. (Which is extra impressive considering this was my idea.) I ended up frantically Googling "things a couple can do at home for a surprise - funny" and pulling something together on the fly.

What did I land on? The idea to find an old silent movie on YouTube. Then to pick a completely unrelated theme—for me: a bird-watching trip to South Africa—and we “gave voice” to the characters in the silent movie, using this theme. As the couple on screen got married and struggled to build a house, Scott and I narrated our " bird-watching trip," commenting on the birds, the travel mishaps, and the scenery.

None of it matched.

We laughed a lot.

We still talk about it.

The next month, Scott forgot, too. And yes—we even had reminders in our phones.

What we learned early on is this: when something isn't a habit yet, it needs grace, not judgment. The first few months aren't about doing it perfectly—they're about helping each other remember you're trying. We realized we needed to help each other, and to treat the rough on-ramp as part of the process, rather than proof we were failing.

Why This Works (A Little Neuroscience, Plain Language)

Surprise Months work because they meet two core—and seemingly opposite—needs of our nervous system: our deep need for safety and our hunger for novelty.

Left to its own devices, the brain tends to drift toward threat-monitoring rather than connection. We’re wired with a built-in negativity bias—a survival feature that once kept us safe. However, in modern relationships it means we’re often quicker to notice what’s missing or stressful, than we are to notice what’s (quietly) going well. A planned surprise interrupts that pattern. It gives the brain something positive to orient toward, tapping into the dopamine system—not the frantic, chasing-more kind, but the gentler “something good is coming” kind.

And yet, novelty without structure can feel destabilizing. Having a balance is what makes Surprise Months work: the rhythm is predictable—you know a dedicated moment of connection is coming—while the when and the what remain a mystery. This combination creates a safe adventure: enough structure for your nervous system to relax into trust, and enough surprise to keep the connection feeling vibrant and alive.

Over time, these moments start to matter more than we expect. They become anchors, creating shared memories that stand out against the blur of routine. While logistics and problem-solving are essential parts of partnership, we don’t bond deeply over improved efficiency. We bond over moments that feel alive, different, and uniquely ours.

Common Objections (and Why They Don't Have to Stop You)

"I'm bad at planning." Perfect. You only have to do it every other month.

"We don't have the money." Some of our most meaningful surprises have cost nothing. Attention is the currency here.

"This feels forced." So does brushing your teeth. Still works.

"What if my surprise is lame?" Effort and intentionality land far more deeply than cleverness.

"We already spend time together." Time together isn't the same as intentional time for each other, with a surprise added in.

"What if we miss a month?" Then you notice, repair, and keep going. This isn't about perfection—it's about returning. Maybe do two surprises the following month.

Not every moment of connection is quiet—or well-coordinated.

Getting Started

Decide who takes which months. Start simple. Set reminders if that helps—and extend grace if you still let the idea slip your mind.

If you're unsure what to plan, let curiosity guide you. Ask yourself: What would help my partner feel seen, lightened, or cared for right now?  What would help my partner know that I had them in mind? What is something we haven’t done, but that might feel fun or new for us?  

Surprise Months don't need to be big. They need to be real.

The Real Valentine's Gift

The problem with Valentine's Day isn't the chocolate or the flowers. It's the idea that romance should be concentrated into a single moment and then evaluated like a performance.

The real gift isn't one perfect night. It's twelve months of showing up. Again. And again. And again.

Romance doesn't need to be louder. It needs to be more reliable.

And that? Turns out to be far more meaningful than getting it "right" on February 14th.

---

If you'd like posts like this delivered monthly, you can join my newsletter here.

Scott and I teach Surprise Months and other Imago practices in our Getting the Love You Want couples workshops. Our next one is March 6–8, 2026 in Colorado. You can find more info here.