Love in the Time of Analog: Why I’m Disconnecting This Valentine’s Day

Finding warmth in the depths of a Maine winter. Tonight, the only glow comes from the hearth, not the screen.

February in New England is uncompromising. We are in the depths of winter now—the snow is piled high along the road, the days are still short, and the wind off the coast finds every draft in the house.

In years past, I might have spent the weeks leading up to Valentine’s Day scrolling for the perfect gift or planning a "content-worthy" evening. But as many of you know, 2026 has been my "Year of Charting Forward," and a huge part of that has been my experiment with the Analog Life. I’ve traded the constant dopamine hit of the smartphone for a quieter, more deliberate way of existing.

And what I’ve found is that stripping away the digital noise doesn't just clear my head; it changes how I love.

Romance in the digital age often feels performative. We document the date night before we’ve even tasted the appetizer. We curate the relationship for an audience rather than living in it with our partner. When you remove the screen, you are left with something starker, but infinitely warmer: genuine presence.

This Valentine’s Day, Mark and I are leaning into the quiet. There will be no Instagram stories of our dinner. There will be no checking notifications during the lull in conversation.

Instead, we are embracing the rustic simplicity that makes life in Maine so special, even in the dead of winter. We’re trading the blue light of screens for the orange glow of the woodstove. We’re swapping text messages for handwritten notes—there is something tactile and intentional about ink on paper that a DM can never replicate.

If you are feeling the pressure of the holiday this week, I invite you to join me in this little rebellion. You don’t need a grand gesture. You just need to be there, fully.

Put the phone in a drawer. Put a record on. Cook a meal slowly. Embrace the silence of a snow-covered February night.

The most romantic thing you can give someone isn’t a link to a wishlist item; it is your undivided attention.

Stay warm, and happy Valentine’s Day.


🕯️ The Country Road "Unplugged" Itinerary

A guide to reclaiming the evening.

The Rules

1. The Phone Basket: Upon entry, all devices go into a basket by the door. No retrieval until morning.

2. The Soundtrack: Vinyl records or local radio only. No streaming algorithms.

3. The Lighting: If you have a dimmer, use it. If you have a woodstove, light it. If not, candlelight is non-negotiable.

The Menu: "Winter Farmhouse Comfort"

Simple ingredients, cooked slowly.

To Drink: A Maple Old Fashioned (Bourbon, splash of local maple syrup, bitters, orange peel) or a heavy Red Blend.

The Main: Cast-Iron Ribeye Steaks. Seared hard with butter, garlic, and fresh thyme.

The Side: Roasted Root Vegetables. Carrots, parsnips, and potatoes tossed in olive oil and rosemary, roasted until the edges are crisp.

The Finish: Dark chocolate and conversation.

The Activity: "The Analog Check-In"

Instead of watching a movie, play a game of Cribbage or ask three questions you haven't asked in a while:

1. What is one thing you want to build or create this year?

2. What is your favorite memory of us from five years ago?

3. Where do we want to wake up ten years from now?

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When the Rainbow Hits the White: A Love Letter to Winter Rendezvous