Why Don’t We Trust the Peace of Love?
Quiet love stories make us uneasy. Serene celebrity couples like Amal and George Clooney, the Obamas, and Gosling-Mendes make us uncomfortable. Is it their love, or our internal chaos, that provokes that response?
Rumours about George and Amal Clooney, and Barack and Michelle Obama getting divorced have been making the rounds, but trusted sources have said there’s no truth to them. The Clooneys are still together, and the Obamas recently shared a sweet birthday photo, with Barack posting a message for Michelle. Why do couples become targets of gossip simply because they choose not to make everything public? The Clooneys don’t post #DateNight selfies. The Obamas rarely manifest PDA. George and Amal even recently sat across from Gayle King on CBS Mornings and made a curious claim — “We’ve never argued,” George said, while Amal nodded gently. The world didn’t sigh with admiration. It frowned in disbelief.
It isn’t just them. Eva Mendes and Ryan Gosling, Daniel Craig and Rachel Weisz, all public figures, are also relatively silent about their love. They don’t post about fights or display affection for the internet’s approval. Ryan Gosling thanked Eva Mendes in his Oscars speech, but she wasn’t even there.
So, why do the ‘happily ever after’ of these celebs induce public disbelief? Why does a peaceful marriage feel less believable than a dramatic one?
Spectacle as a barometer
Sohini Rohra, a relationship and fertility psychologist, explains that the Clooneys’ calm “disturbs us” not because we dislike peace, but because “we’ve been conditioned to doubt it.”
Social media rewards big feelings. Emotional stories, overshares, heartbreaks, selfies in tears are what get attention. A quiet couple doesn’t. Their privacy unsettles us and it feels like a gap we want to fill.
“It’s a psychological phenomenon called projection,” explains Dr Namrata Mahajan, counselling psychologist and special educator. “When people are insecure or unhappy in their own relationships, they project these suspicions onto others.”
If we’re surrounded by mess, betrayals, breakups, and healing arcs, then peace feels unfamiliar and projection becomes a coping mechanism.
When privacy becomes suspicious
“Seeing so much bluster on the Internet every day changes what we define as ‘normal’ in relationships,” Dr. Mahajan says. “Breakups, cheating, feel more real than calm, steady love.”
Social media ‘norms’ make us ask, ‘If a couple isn’t fighting or posting, are they even together?’
A counterpoint
Shivani Misri Sadhoo, psychologist and marriage counsellor, has a perspective based on her experience that seems to justify the general suspicion. “I’ve seen one truth repeat itself: Fights are not a sign of failure,” she says. “They often mean the opposite. When partners argue, it shows they care enough to engage, disagree, and work things out. A couple that claims they never fight? That’s not always a sign of peace. Sometimes, it simply means there’s nothing worth fighting for anymore.”
So, when Amal and George Clooney say they never argue, are we right not to hear ‘respect,’ and give room for mistrust, because it sounds almost too perfect?
It’s about us
Sohini calls this out. “We fill in the blanks of their silence with our unresolved anxieties,” she says. “If we’ve only known love that burns or bruises, then steadiness can feel like a lie.”
There’s another emotion hiding in plain sight – Envy – adds Sohini. When someone’s relationship looks too untouched by chaos, too refined, it doesn’t just make us curious. It makes us resentful. “That bitterness often disguises itself as criticism or suspicion,” she notes. “We’ve equated ‘real’ with ‘relatable,’” she continues. “So we tend to trust couples who share their mess more than those who embody peace.”
“We’re not broken because we mistrust peace,” Sohini asserts, however. “We’re just unpractised at witnessing it.”
And that’s an idea that needs consideration. Do we struggle with the concept of calm because we haven’t learned to yield to it? “When we question perfect couples, it's not about them,” Dr. Mahajan reminds us. “It’s about us.”
