A Sardine Can Changed the Way I See Love

The Beach Picnic That Wasn't

A few years ago, I was sitting on a rocky jetty at Leo Carrillo State Beach, staring at a can of sardines I never planned to eat. This wasn’t supposed to happen. My date and I had envisioned a dreamy California beach picnic: think fresh baguettes, artisan cheeses, maybe even a chilled bottle of rosé precariously balanced on our driftwood "table." Reality delivered wind that whipped sand into every bite of food, zero shade, and me fumbling like a contestant on Nailed It! trying to open the sardine can with a pocket knife.

My date—I'll call her Maya—had already lost a flip-flop to the Pacific and was trying not to laugh (or cry) as her DIY charcuterie board tipped over. And there I was, hunched over this stupid sardine tin, while Maya observed my noble, if fruitless, efforts as if I were performing an ancient mating ritual. If looks could kill, that tin of sardines would have been obliterated.

A moment of silence passed before she grinned and said, “If you can get that open, I’ll officially be impressed—and maybe share my blanket.” Somehow, cracking that tin became my mission, not just for the fish, but for redemption. Finally, with the grace of someone who’d never worked a practical day in his life, I popped it open.

I expected her to recoil. Instead, we ended up sharing the sardines straight from the can with our hands, laughing about how "gourmet" our snack had become. It wasn’t romantic in the way the movies present love—sweeping violins, soft-focus lighting—but it was romantic in a way that felt real. And that can of sardines, humble as it was, would end up teaching me something about relationships I never expected.

Romance Is a Lot Like a Tin of Sardines

Stay with me here. Relationships, especially at their best, don’t always come in elegant packaging. Instead, they’re often messy, unexpected, and sometimes downright unglamorous. Sardines, let’s face it, are no filet mignon. They’re salty, stinky, and unapologetically themselves. Yet, in the right context, they deliver so much more than you expect.

Think about it: Early romance can feel like preparing Instagram-ready avocado toast. You want every detail curated to perfection. But long-term relationships? They’re more sardine-like. Packed tight with a mix of quirks, imperfections, and compromises you’d never think would work—but somehow, they do.

What that day on the beach taught me is that sometimes the best connections happen when the metaphorical charcuterie board gets blown into the sand. Those aren’t the moments you plan for, but they’re the ones where you show up authentically, laugh at the ridiculousness, and share salty fish when all else fails.

Let the Sardines Show You the Way

Now, I’m not suggesting you base your love life on canned fish. (Although, hey, if sharing sardines feels like a meet-cute, who am I to judge?) Here’s what I’ve learned from that impromptu beach side meal of humility and humor—lessons that anyone can apply:

  1. Expect the Unexpected
    Real love isn’t curated; it’s improvised. From the awkward silences to the days when life goes sideways, the unexpected moments are often where the best memories are made. Learning to adapt while staying open-minded is the real secret sauce.

  2. Start with What You've Got
    That day, we didn’t have artisanal picnic spreads or matching linen blankets. We had one stubborn tin of sardines and just enough patience to laugh at ourselves. Relationships thrive when you stop waiting for perfect conditions and start building something meaningful with what’s available to you.

  3. Messiness Is Where the Magic Happens
    Sardine-flavored fingers and misplaced shoes weren’t part of our plan, but they brought a very human, absurd kind of joy to the day. In dating or long-term relationships, embracing imperfection isn’t just important—it’s essential.

  4. Let Go of the Highlight Reel
    Forget the Pinterest-perfect date. Lean into the beautifully mundane moments that might not look great on Instagram but feel incredible in real life.

Sardines: The Metaphor That Keeps on Giving

I’ll admit, over time, I began to use “sardines” as shorthand for any moment that wasn’t shiny and choreographed but ended up showing me what truly mattered. A long road trip where the A/C gave out in the Mojave Desert? Sardines. The Saturday my girlfriend and I spent assembling IKEA furniture only to discover we’d built the bookshelf upside down? Sardines. Every moment that tested my patience but deepened my connection? Sardines all the way.

There’s something kind of wild about how love works on you. It strips away your need for perfection, humbles you, and then builds you back up in ways you don’t expect. Sardines, as it turns out, taught me to stay open—to see the “romance” in eating oily fish on a windy afternoon and the potential for connection in the simplest acts of going through life together.

So What's Your "Sardine Moment?"

Here’s my advice: search your relationship pantry for the sardines. (Metaphorically speaking—though if you pull out an actual tin, I salute you.) Let yourself embrace the parts that aren’t polished or planned. They might not be what you wanted, but they might just be what you needed.

Because at the end of the day, connecting with someone isn’t about starring in your own personal rom-com. It’s about the quiet victories, hilarious detours, and shared moments of sheer ridiculousness. And maybe, just maybe, a can of sardines.