100 things I love about you, for a note, a jar or a book

A hundred small, specific things to love about someone, in ten sets of ten, for a note, a jar or a book.

100 things · November 2, 2026

A reasons book lying open on a café table between two coffees, the couple illustrated at a café on the left page and one thing they love on the right

There's a small difference between reasons and things. A reason explains; a thing just points: the way you hum when you cook, your cold feet, the face you make at parking tickets. A list of things I love about you works because it's small and specific, and because nobody else could have written it.

Here are 100 things I love about you, in ten sets of ten: the way you look, your little habits, how you love me, who you are, the funny side, home, the hard days, things to love about him, things to love about her, and what's still ahead. Borrow them as they are, or use them to jog your memory and write your own.

Put them in a card, fold them into a jar, or give them a page each. A What I love about you book holds fifty of them, one per page, with the two of you illustrated on the cover.

Make it a book: Reasons I Love You holds fifty reasons, one per page, written from your memories and illustrated to look like your people. Start yours

The way you look

Your smile first thing in the morning, before you've remembered to be grumpy.
The crinkles by your eyes when you really laugh.
The way you look at me across a crowded room, like we're sharing a secret.
Your hands, and how they always find mine.
The way you look in my old sweatshirt.
Your bed hair, which you think is a disaster and I think is perfect.
How your whole face changes when you talk about something you love.
The freckle you didn't know you had until I pointed it out.
The way you still dress up for date night, even when it's at home.
How you look when you're concentrating, tongue slightly out.

Your little habits

The way you hum when you cook.
How you always check the door is locked twice.
Your habit of leaving one last bite of everything.
The way you narrate what the dog is thinking.
How you read the last page of a book first.
Your color-coded calendar, and the one color that's just for us.
The way you make tea for everyone in the room without asking.
How you talk to the plants like they're people.
Your system for loading the dishwasher, which is the only correct one.
The way you tap the roof of the car before every long drive.

How you love me

How you warm my side of the bed before I get in.
The way you text me when you land, every single time.
How you remember my coffee order better than I do.
The way you stick up for me, even when I'm not in the room.
How you ask about my day, then actually listen.
The way you tuck the blanket around my feet on the sofa.
How you never let me walk home alone.
The way you say my name.
How you hold my hand through every scary movie.
The way you make me feel like the most interesting person at the party.

Who you are

Your kindness to people who can't do anything for you.
How you're always the first to help someone carry something.
Your stubbornness, when it's on my side.
The way you stand up for what's right, even when your voice shakes.
How generous you are with your time.
Your curiosity, which turns every walk into a string of questions.
How you can talk to anyone, from toddlers to grandmas.
The way you never brag, even when you've earned it.
How you've stayed exactly yourself through everything.
Your big, soft heart, which you hide under a lot of jokes.

The funny side

Your terrible puns, and how proud you are of every one.
The face you make at parking tickets.
How you do every accent badly and with total confidence.
Your running commentary on reality TV.
The way you laugh at your own jokes before the punchline.
How you dance when you think no one's watching.
Your dramatic reaction to a slightly cold shower.
The nicknames you invent for strangers on the train.
How you can make me laugh in the middle of an argument.
Your impression of me, which is rude and completely accurate.

At home

Lazy Sunday mornings with you and the crossword.
The way the house sounds when you're in it.
How you always know where the scissors are.
Your cooking, especially the dish you make when I'm sad.
The way you leave the porch light on for me.
How you can make a cold room cozy in about four minutes.
Our running list of shows we've promised to watch together.
The way you sing along to the radio while you do the dishes.
How every corner of our home has a story with you in it.
Coming home to you, whatever kind of day it's been.

On the hard days

How you don't try to fix it. You just sit with me.
The way you bring water and tissues without being asked.
How you know when to make me laugh, and when not to.
The way you take over the boring jobs when I'm overwhelmed.
How you've never once said "I told you so."
The way you hold my hand in hospital waiting rooms.
How you remind me who I am when I forget.
The way you apologize properly, with no "but."
How you stayed calm when nothing else was.
That I haven't had to face a hard day alone since I met you.

Things I love about him

How he gets up first to scrape the ice off my car.
His terrible taste in movies, and his total commitment to it.
The soft voice he saves for babies, dogs and his mom.
His laugh, which you can hear from the next room.
How he fixes things, and how he admits it when he can't.
The way he still opens the car door for me.
How he gets excited about the game like it's the first one ever.
His hugs, which last exactly as long as I need.
The way he remembers my friends' birthdays.
How quietly proud of me he is in front of everyone.

Things I love about her

How she reads in the bath until the water goes cold.
The way she knows what everyone needs before they do.
Her laugh when something is really, properly funny.
How fierce she is about the people she loves.
The way she writes lists for everything, including lists.
How she always smells like her favorite shampoo.
The way she makes a friend in every line she stands in.
Her handwriting on the notes she leaves me.
How she tells me the truth, kindly.
The way she makes every place feel like home.

What's still ahead

That I get to grow old with your bad jokes.
All the trips we haven't taken yet.
How you already talk about "when we're eighty."
The home we'll keep making better.
Every morning coffee still to come.
The way you'll still hold my hand when we're slow walkers.
All the inside jokes we haven't made yet.
That you'll be there for the big moments and the boring ones.
How sure I am about you, even when I'm unsure about everything else.
That I get to keep loving you, every day, on purpose.

How to write your own list

Start with one ordinary day. Walk through it from the alarm to lights out and write down every small thing you'd miss if they were gone: the way they make the coffee, the sound of their keys in the door. That's your first twenty.

Then go back through your years together: the first date, the first home, the hardest month. Keep each line short and specific. "Your laugh" is lovely; "the way you laugh at your own jokes before the punchline" is them.

Fifty is a good place to stop: enough to surprise them, not so many that the list starts repeating itself.

If you'd like your list to last longer than a note on the fridge, Reasons I Love You puts fifty of your things on fifty pages, written from your memories, with the two of you illustrated on the cover. The digital book is $12 and the hardcover is $49. Here's more on making a What I love about you book.

For more to borrow, see 100 reasons I love you, 52 reasons why I love you for a deck of cards, and deep reasons why I love you.

Questions people ask

What are some things I love about you?+

Small, specific things: the way they hum when they cook, how they warm your side of the bed, their terrible puns. The best ones point at a habit or a moment only you would notice.

How do you write a list of things you love about someone?+

Walk through an ordinary day with them and write down everything you'd miss, then go back through your years together. Keep each line short and specific, and swap any general line for a real detail.

How many things should be on the list?+

Ten fits on a card, fifty fills a book with one per page, and a hundred is a real labor of love. Fifty is often the sweet spot.

What can I do with a list of things I love about you?+

Fold them into a jar, write one on each page of a notebook, or give them a page each in a book. Reasons I Love You holds fifty, with the two of you illustrated on the cover.

Keep reading

100 things I love about you, for a note, a jar or a book

A hundred small, specific things to love about someone, in ten sets of ten, for a note, a jar or a book.

100 things · November 2, 2026

Put them in a card, fold them into a jar, or give them a page each. A What I love about you book holds fifty of them, one per page, with the two of you illustrated on the cover.

Make it a book: Reasons I Love You holds fifty reasons, one per page, written from your memories and illustrated to look like your people. Start yours

The way you look

Your smile first thing in the morning, before you've remembered to be grumpy.
The crinkles by your eyes when you really laugh.
The way you look at me across a crowded room, like we're sharing a secret.
Your hands, and how they always find mine.
The way you look in my old sweatshirt.
Your bed hair, which you think is a disaster and I think is perfect.
How your whole face changes when you talk about something you love.
The freckle you didn't know you had until I pointed it out.
The way you still dress up for date night, even when it's at home.
How you look when you're concentrating, tongue slightly out.

Your little habits

The way you hum when you cook.
How you always check the door is locked twice.
Your habit of leaving one last bite of everything.
The way you narrate what the dog is thinking.
How you read the last page of a book first.
Your color-coded calendar, and the one color that's just for us.
The way you make tea for everyone in the room without asking.
How you talk to the plants like they're people.
Your system for loading the dishwasher, which is the only correct one.
The way you tap the roof of the car before every long drive.

How you love me

How you warm my side of the bed before I get in.
The way you text me when you land, every single time.
How you remember my coffee order better than I do.
The way you stick up for me, even when I'm not in the room.
How you ask about my day, then actually listen.
The way you tuck the blanket around my feet on the sofa.
How you never let me walk home alone.
The way you say my name.
How you hold my hand through every scary movie.
The way you make me feel like the most interesting person at the party.

Who you are

Your kindness to people who can't do anything for you.
How you're always the first to help someone carry something.
Your stubbornness, when it's on my side.
The way you stand up for what's right, even when your voice shakes.
How generous you are with your time.
Your curiosity, which turns every walk into a string of questions.
How you can talk to anyone, from toddlers to grandmas.
The way you never brag, even when you've earned it.
How you've stayed exactly yourself through everything.
Your big, soft heart, which you hide under a lot of jokes.

The funny side

Your terrible puns, and how proud you are of every one.
The face you make at parking tickets.
How you do every accent badly and with total confidence.
Your running commentary on reality TV.
The way you laugh at your own jokes before the punchline.
How you dance when you think no one's watching.
Your dramatic reaction to a slightly cold shower.
The nicknames you invent for strangers on the train.
How you can make me laugh in the middle of an argument.
Your impression of me, which is rude and completely accurate.

At home

Lazy Sunday mornings with you and the crossword.
The way the house sounds when you're in it.
How you always know where the scissors are.
Your cooking, especially the dish you make when I'm sad.
The way you leave the porch light on for me.
How you can make a cold room cozy in about four minutes.
Our running list of shows we've promised to watch together.
The way you sing along to the radio while you do the dishes.
How every corner of our home has a story with you in it.
Coming home to you, whatever kind of day it's been.

On the hard days

How you don't try to fix it. You just sit with me.
The way you bring water and tissues without being asked.
How you know when to make me laugh, and when not to.
The way you take over the boring jobs when I'm overwhelmed.
How you've never once said "I told you so."
The way you hold my hand in hospital waiting rooms.
How you remind me who I am when I forget.
The way you apologize properly, with no "but."
How you stayed calm when nothing else was.
That I haven't had to face a hard day alone since I met you.

Things I love about him

How he gets up first to scrape the ice off my car.
His terrible taste in movies, and his total commitment to it.
The soft voice he saves for babies, dogs and his mom.
His laugh, which you can hear from the next room.
How he fixes things, and how he admits it when he can't.
The way he still opens the car door for me.
How he gets excited about the game like it's the first one ever.
His hugs, which last exactly as long as I need.
The way he remembers my friends' birthdays.
How quietly proud of me he is in front of everyone.

Things I love about her

How she reads in the bath until the water goes cold.
The way she knows what everyone needs before they do.
Her laugh when something is really, properly funny.
How fierce she is about the people she loves.
The way she writes lists for everything, including lists.
How she always smells like her favorite shampoo.
The way she makes a friend in every line she stands in.
Her handwriting on the notes she leaves me.
How she tells me the truth, kindly.
The way she makes every place feel like home.

What's still ahead

That I get to grow old with your bad jokes.
All the trips we haven't taken yet.
How you already talk about "when we're eighty."
The home we'll keep making better.
Every morning coffee still to come.
The way you'll still hold my hand when we're slow walkers.
All the inside jokes we haven't made yet.
That you'll be there for the big moments and the boring ones.
How sure I am about you, even when I'm unsure about everything else.
That I get to keep loving you, every day, on purpose.

How to write your own list

Fifty is a good place to stop: enough to surprise them, not so many that the list starts repeating itself.

For more to borrow, see 100 reasons I love you, 52 reasons why I love you for a deck of cards, and deep reasons why I love you.

Questions people ask

What are some things I love about you?+

Small, specific things: the way they hum when they cook, how they warm your side of the bed, their terrible puns. The best ones point at a habit or a moment only you would notice.

How do you write a list of things you love about someone?+

Walk through an ordinary day with them and write down everything you'd miss, then go back through your years together. Keep each line short and specific, and swap any general line for a real detail.

How many things should be on the list?+

Ten fits on a card, fifty fills a book with one per page, and a hundred is a real labor of love. Fifty is often the sweet spot.

What can I do with a list of things I love about you?+

Fold them into a jar, write one on each page of a notebook, or give them a page each in a book. Reasons I Love You holds fifty, with the two of you illustrated on the cover.