Years ago, on a first date, I told a woman I didn't want to see her again
We were having a great evening. Real conversation, real laughter, the restaurant was great. An hour in I asked her if she felt what I was feeling. She smiled and said yes. And I told her I was sorry, but I'd learned that this exact feeling, those butterflies, had led to crushing heartbreak every single time. For me and for everyone else involved.
So I wasn't going to pursue it.
That was hard to say. Harder to hear, I imagine.
We spend so much of our lives chasing that spark. That euphoric, electric feeling with someone you've just met. We call it chemistry. We call it fate. We talk about it like it's proof that something is right. But for a lot of us, that feeling isn't chemistry. It's familiarity. And the thing we're recognising is a wound, not a match.
Trauma bonding feels like love because it activates the same places in us that were activated when we were young and needed someone who wasn't quite safe, or quite available, or quite consistent. The intensity is real. The feeling is real. But what it's pointing to isn't always what we think.
I'm not proud of every version of myself I've been with a woman. I got into relationships because of that feeling, stayed in them for the wrong reasons, and caused pain on both sides. The pattern wasn't bad luck. It was me choosing familiar chaos over healthy stability, over and over, and calling it passion.
Choosing growth sometimes looks like saying no to the spark and yes to something quieter, something that doesn't light up the wound inside you but actually meets you. My wife didn't feel like a film. She felt like peace. That took some getting used to. I had to learn that the absence of chaos wasn't the absence of love.
You might be in something right now that feels electric. Or you might be wondering why calm doesn't feel like enough.
Both of those are worth sitting honestly with. You deserve to know the difference between what excites you and what's actually good for you.
They're not always the same thing.
