Zoë Kravitz and Harry Styles got tattoos and wedding rings

Zoë Kravitz and Harry Styles are now forever linked to each other. They have matching tattoos, a wedding ring—and all of this before their relationship marks its first full year.

The internet, as usual, has split into two camps: some are in awe, while others roll their eyes and start counting down. Both opinions miss the point.

The thing is, in the early months of a relationship, which no one talks about, the world really does seem brighter. Flowers bloom more vividly, food tastes better, and your body, somewhere beneath the silly laughter and long phone conversations, begins to whisper something more serious.

This is the one who, I hope, will meet my emotional needs.

Of course, you’ll want to etch this onto your skin.

What people call the honeymoon phase is not just chemistry or dopamine. Beneath the laughter and sleepless nights, something deeper is happening.

You meet someone, and after a few weeks of living together in this bright, joy-filled world, your nervous system begins to do something almost legal. It makes a contract. An unwritten one. You will be the one I open up to. You will be the one who responds when I’m scared.

It’s not silly. It’s biology.

In my view, we are an addicted species. Our first need, before food or shelter, is an emotional connection with another person. This was true a hundred thousand years ago on the African savannas, and it’s true for Zoë and Harry in a tattoo studio in Soho.

The problem isn’t the desire for permanence. The problem is what I call «fiat relationships», - where people start expressing affection that they cannot yet back up with actions. Promises made faster than the relationship has earned them. I love you. I’m sorry. I promise. Forever. Beautiful words, but in the early months, they are often unsubstantiated.

Inflation teaches us that nothing has value, so consume it now. When you apply the same high temporal priority to love, you get a tattoo before the first real fight. You get a notion instead of presence. You get a feeling of connection without paying the price of vulnerability.

I’m not claiming this is happening here. I have no idea. I’m saying it’s the cultural environment we’re all in, and even very famous, very wealthy people are swimming in it too.

Here I must be honest with myself. Throughout my teenage and twenties, and even into my thirties, and at the beginning of my forties when I met my wife Tial, I lived exactly by this script. A serial monogamist. Falling in love quickly. Trying to be the perfect guy. Falling into shame when everything fell apart.

I wasn’t foolish. I was a child in love.

Because here’s what we don’t say out loud. It doesn’t matter how grown-up you are when it comes to love. You still remain a little child. Physiologically, you are the same as that infant who needed a good other to survive after birth. Nothing has changed.

So when you meet someone who seems to be «the one», - your body wants to solidify it. Seal the deal. Make it real. Make it permanent. A ring. A tattoo. A home. A child. Anything that says, «Please don’t leave, please see me, please give me meaning».

This isn’t neediness. It’s the oldest software in the human organism. If you want to understand the particular intensity of early love and where it crosses into something more obsessive, then limerence explains much of what gets confused with confidence in a soulmate.

Want to know what pattern your body uses in the early months of a relationship? You can get a free relationship assessment and at least see your own choreography on paper.

Here I want to be careful because I’m not going to judge anyone for falling deeply in love. Falling deeply in love is wonderful. Falling deeply in love is the essence.

But a tattoo is…