Falling in Love with the In‑Between - The Dating Game Version
An exploration of life’s doorways and the liminal landscapes between them — where low‑stakes love stories become maps, “fluff” becomes a refuge, and archetypal lovers step forward to guide us across.
On the Threshold - Edmund Blair Leighton (1900)
Not all thresholds are alike. Some hurl us forward without warning, leaving us with the whiplash of being ripped from what we knew. Others hold us in a suspended pause — heart pounding, fingers gripping the frame — not yet ready to step into what waits beyond. Some lure us off‑course into strange new worlds, Alice‑style. Others beckon us through love, making the crossing softer, more healing.
In a culture hooked on the high‑stakes theatrics of the “All Mighty Algorithm,” we’re taught that change must be dramatic, adrenaline‑fueled, and fast. The threshold becomes nothing more than a launch pad — no lingering, no exploring, just a sprint to the other side. Arrival is the only metric of success.
But in our rush toward the future, we skip the entire continent that is the crossing itself. The psyche, however, has its own ways of slowing us down. If you find yourself spinning your wheels on your “game plan,” it may be an invitation to return to the threshold and see what it’s trying to show you.
Technically, a threshold is the strip of wood, metal, or stone at the base of a doorway — the thing you cross when you enter or leave. In life, it’s the cusp between before and after: waking and sleeping, work clothes and pajamas, the moment you open your front door and step outside.
But what about the in‑between — the space between what was and what’s yet to be? That’s where liminal comes in. Liminal is still a threshold, but it speaks to the psychological terrain of transition — the “betwixt and between” where the familiar has fallen away and the unknown hasn’t yet taken shape.
I see the liminal as a landscape we traverse from the known toward the as‑yet‑unseen. Here, we’re awash in both the discomforts — anxiety, uncertainty, loneliness, disorientation — and the gifts: hope, curiosity, heightened creativity, deep reflection, and the kind of self‑awareness that only comes from standing on shifting ground.
And while we may meet challenges and tricksters along the way, we may also encounter those rare companions who guide us — and sometimes even transform us — as we cross.
Romeo and Juliet - Frank Bernard Dicksee (1884)
Fluff (&) Romance at the threshold
Liminal times — in our personal or collective lives — arrive already heavy with uncertainty. The ground shifts underfoot, the unknown keeps us on high alert, and the constant scanning for what’s next can be exhausting. It’s why starting a new job leaves you bone‑tired: your mind is processing double the load, both intellectual and emotional.
In these in‑between spaces, we instinctively reach for what soothes. We rewatch old shows, reread beloved books, and eat comfort food. We want what nourishes without demanding much from us.
This is where fluff comes in. Often dismissed as a guilty pleasure, fluff is lighthearted, feel‑good media — low on conflict, high on comfort. It’s branded as “less than,” wasteful, and mindless. But in truth, it’s a balm.
High‑stakes drama can feel like being yanked through a doorway before your shoes are on. Literary fiction may offer insight into the human condition, but not the soft landing you need in high‑stress seasons. Romance — especially its fluffier side — provides a gentle constraint: enough plot to keep you company, soft edges so you can breathe, and a happy ending to anchor hope.
Of course, comfort is personal. For some, it’s true crime. For others, it is a tightly woven suspense novel. Still others find solace in nonfiction or self‑help. No judgment — I’m a lifelong nonfiction devotee myself.
Romance, though often devalued as formulaic or problematic, can also be a weighted blanket: safe, warm, and unhurried. Its focus on women’s emotions, desires, and pleasure creates a refuge in turbulent times.
There’s more to say about how romance fluff is viewed in our culture, but for now, I want to explore how certain character “types” in these stories can serve as threshold guides. There’s depth to be found here — if we approach with curiosity and notice how these stories make us feel.
That curiosity is the key to fluff’s healing power. So consider this your invitation: notice which characters call to you. You may discover a way to navigate your own liminal seasons as if you were romancing them — not just being dragged, unwilling, across the threshold.
Love Among the Ruins - Edward Burne-Jones (1873)
The Dating Game - Threshold Lovers Version
Welcome to the Dating Game - Threshold version!
Ready to meet the contestants who are ready to woo your heart and guide you across the threshold?
Once you’ve picked your Threshold Lover, post in the comments which one lit up your heart.
And if you want a couple of book recommendations, I’ve added a couple for each Threshold Lover archetype to whet your appetite.
Love and the Maiden - John Roddam Spencer Stanhope (1877)
The Bridge Builder
They are the lover who lives with one foot in each world: yours and theirs — and somehow they make this space in-between feel grounded, present, and even sensual. The Bridge Builder is an experienced liminal traveler, having crossed a thousand thresholds: between cultures, between realms, between who they were and who they are now. They inhabit both sides effortlessly in their physicality and movement. They’re bilingual in the language of both worlds - yours and theirs.
When you meet them, you feel it instantly — that they know the terrain you’re about to step into, because they’ve walked it themselves. They don’t just point out the way; they walk beside you, adjusting their stride until you get used to this foreign terrain. They make you feel safe because you instinctively know they’ve got your back.
You fall for them because with them, the threshold isn’t a gap to be leapt over in a rush, it’s a shared journey with time to linger and watch both horizons - of what was and what is yet to be.
Recs from my shelf:
Swordheart — T. Kingfisher’s swordsman, literally from another world, learning to navigate the heroine’s reality while inviting her into his.
Kiss of the Basilisk — Lindsay Straube’s lush, forbidden romance where a human woman and a basilisk trainer navigate the dangerous space between duty and desire, building a bridge between two worlds that were never meant to meet.
The Light of the World - William Holman Hunt (1851-1852)
The Lantern Holder
They are the steady glow in the dark — making the night feel less like a void and more like a cocoon of protection. Their patience is magnetic; their focus, unwavering. They don’t fill the silence with chatter, but with embodied presence, teaching you to be present in your physical world and hear your own heartbeat until you’re ready to move.
They are the kind of lover who will patiently hold the light for you, even if you take the long way around. And when you finally step forward, they’re already there, smiling like they knew you would and ready to take you to your next stage on the journey.
You fall because they make you feel braver without saying a word — and the way they look at you makes you want to step forward to see what happens next.
Recs from my shelf:
A Soul to Keep — Opal Reyne’s gruff, monstrous Duskwalker who holds vigil for the heroine, offering safety and patience in a dangerous world.
Do Me a Favor — Cathy Yardley’s tender, second‑chance romance where a widowed cookbook writer and her big‑hearted handyman neighbor quietly light each other’s way, proving that patience, steady care, and small acts of kindness can guide someone out of the dark.
The Ionian Dance - Edward John Poynter (1895)
The Doorway Dancer
They are the spark in the liminal lounge — able to turn the in‑between into more of a celebration than a trek. For them, threshold isn’t a waiting room; it’s a dance floor. They pull you into motion before you can overthink, spinning you until you’re laughing too hard to remember you were afraid, and can let go of the old parts of you that are dead weight.
They thrive on serendipity and spontaneity, turning even the most uncertain moments into something worth savoring. By the time you realize you’ve crossed over, you’re already in their arms, breathless and grinning.
You fall for them, because they make transition feel like joy, making you forget the ‘what ifs’ and the fearful ‘buts’ — and by the time you notice you’ve crossed over, you’re already on the other side, utterly transformed.
Recs from my shelf:
Lessons in Heartbreak by Karla Sorensen transforms a stuck moment into a playful, tender reconnection, proving that even hesitant steps forward can lead to a life worth living.
The Pucking Proposal — Lauren Landish’s flirty, fake‑dating romp where quick banter, outrageous situations, and unexpected chemistry turn a temporary arrangement into a whirlwind worth savoring.
Psyche Opening the Door into Cupid’s Garden - John William Waterhouse (1903)
The Guardian of the Gate
They are the lover who holds your hands protectively between you and the next chapter — not to stop you, but to make sure you’re ready. Their presence may challenge and test your patience and how you think things should be. However, this behavior presents a challenge to your old mindset, yet it is wrapped in care. They see your potential before you do, and they won’t let you shrink from it.
With them, the threshold becomes a proving ground, and every step forward feels earned - and they’re there for all it - cheering you on. They don’t take ownership of your victories and are willing to step aside if that’s your choice.
You fall for them, because the friction between you is electric — and it’s this chemical reaction that transforms you both.
Recs from my shelf:
Guarded by the Phantom — Layla Fae’s monster protector who stands sentinel at the edge of the heroine’s next chapter, holding the line until she’s ready to confront both the threats ahead and the truths within.
Bride — Ali Hazelwood’s modern spin on a protective, high‑tension romance, where the hero’s unwavering challenge sparks the heroine’s rise into her own strength.
La Belle Dame Sans Merci - Arthur Hughes (1863)
The Fellow Wanderer
They are the ones who are also between worlds — and surprisingly, they choose to walk beside you. They’re not here to lead or follow; they’re here to share the road because they’re just as lost as you, and yet, they offer solace when they see you down. With them, uncertainty becomes a shared adventure, and every detour feels like a secret only the two of you know.
They understand the ache of not quite belonging, of the shame of not feeling enough, and because of that, they make that ache feel less lonely. For the first time, what you always thought made you flawed is now seen, accepted, and shared. Together, you’re not just crossing a threshold — you’re building a map together, one kiss and one day at a time.
You fall because crossing the threshold with them makes the journey less lonely, because you’re not only building a map together, you’re learning how to belong.
Recs from my shelf:
Book Lovers — Emily Henry’s witty, heartfelt romance where two career‑driven opposites find themselves in the same small town, navigating personal crossroads and discovering a shared path forward.
The Wedding Game — Meghan Quinn’s reality‑show rivals‑to‑lovers, whose on‑screen competition becomes a shared journey, as two opposites navigate unfamiliar territory side‑by‑side and slowly discover that “home” might be something they build together.
The Accolade - Edmund Leighton (1901)
The Key‑Bearer
They are the one who holds the thing you need to move forward — and know precisely what it means to give it to you. Their gift is never casual; it’s a meaningful vow wrapped in guidance, acts of service, and even calling you on your old fears and resistance. When they place their key in your hand, they’re not just unlocking a door of easy solutions — they’re unlocking the potentials within you that are ready to be birthed.
They understand that timing is everything, and they’ll wait until you’re ready to receive it. Although at times, they’ll push and prod you to get unstuck from your old ways. Because the moment you do, your world will shift as your heart opens up.
You fall because the intimacy of trust is intoxicating — and the thrill of the possibilities awaiting after the lock clicks is even more so.
Recs from my shelf:
The Mr. Right Checklist — Melissa Foster’s grumpy‑meets‑sunshine romance where a guarded professor becomes the unexpected key to the heroine’s dreams, offering the support, belief, and partnership that unlocks her next chapter.
Happily Letter After — Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward’s heartfelt tale where a single, serendipitous letter becomes the key that opens the door to love, healing, and a future neither character dared imagine.
Twilight Fantasy - Edward Robert Hughes (1911)
The Shape‑Shifter
They are the lover who embraces changes — and makes you believe you can, too. They’re mercurial, alluring, impossible to pin down, yet somehow always exactly who you need in the moment. With them, transformation isn’t scary; it’s seductive.
They show you that reinvention can be an act of intimacy, a shared evolution. But more than falling for them when they shift, you fall harder when they create the space for you to move. They are not just here for this new version of you; they’re able to draw it out - and that is the most seductive thing about them.
You fall for them because for them reinvention is foreplay — and you can’t resist finding out what you might become in their arms.
Recs from my shelf:
Lights Out — Navessa Allen’s dark, magnetic romance where a masked man and a trauma‑hardened nurse strip away each other’s defenses, blurring fantasy and reality until both are transformed into something braver, wilder, and entirely freer.
The Highland Fling — Meghan Quinn’s windswept romance where a fish‑out‑of‑water heroine and a guarded local slowly reshape each other’s lives, proving that sometimes the biggest adventure is embracing the power of the new - together.
The Storm - Pierre Auguste Cot (1880)
The Anchor in the Storm
They are the steady point when everything else is in motion — the one you can hold on to without fear of dragging them under. Their calm and presence is a kind of gravity, keeping you grounded, safe, and without ever shaming you as being weak or vulnerable. If nothing else, they see the strength and resilience that you have forgotten you possessed. With them, the chaos that the threshold can bring becomes background noise.
They don’t just weather the storm with you; they make you believe you can survive it. No matter the weather, inner or outer, they’re there for you - holding your hand.
You fall because they give you the safety to fall apart — and the promise they’ll still be there when you’re ready to move.
Recs from my shelf:
This Is Love — Melissa Foster’s sizzling bodyguard romance where a gruff protector becomes the heroine’s safe harbor, grounding her through the glare of fame, the threat of danger, and the risk of falling in love.
Million Dollar Marriage — Katy Evans’s opposites‑attract romance where a gruff bar owner becomes the heroine’s first true safe place, grounding her through the whirlwind of a reality‑show marriage and into something real.
The Missal - John William Waterhouse (1902)
Your Turn
If you’re standing in a threshold right now — big or small — here’s your invitation:
Pick a low‑stakes romance with one of these lovers.
Let it keep you company while you linger in the in‑between.
When you close the book, notice what — if anything — has shifted.
Have you crossed paths with your own Bridge Builder, Lantern Holder, or Doorway Dancer in the pages of a book? I’d love to hear about them — share your favorite encounter in the comments so we can swoon together.
Coming soon: Romancing the Threshold — the podcast.
Step through one doorway at a time with me — from myths to modern romance, from my own well‑loved book recs to the stories you send in. Together, we’ll learn to romance the liminal, instead of fearing it. Until then, I’ll be at the liminal lounge, saving you a seat.
May the Power of Fluff be with you.
Vanessa Couto