The Romanticised and Demonised Version of Your Situationship – Why Perceptions Swing Between Extremes and How to Stop It
By Bella May Reed
On a late-night call with a friend, we go over the same snippets of drama again and again, analyse every past relationship we’ve ever been in, and thoroughly intellectualise all of our feelings from the past week.
She starts talking about a new guy (I know, I know, we wouldn’t pass the Bechdel test, but give me grace—this article is bigger than talking about boys, I promise). She describes someone she met on Hinge: exactly her type, good job, great chemistry. She was all about him yesterday—they even have a date next week. But suddenly, she says, “I just don’t know about him. I just don’t think my future husband would use emojis, and I feel like if he was actually nice and if I really liked him, I wouldn’t feel this way.”
Whoa.
What a turnaround. This is the avoidant switch, a defence mechanism—a learned behaviour rooted in childhood, past experiences, and trauma. When emotions got too big or conversations felt overwhelming, you removed yourself.
Romantic relationships are unpredictable. They often feel temporary, which can stir up fears of inadequacy, abandonment, or rejection. Even if no one is yelling and it’s just a simple “How was work today?” text, the overwhelm kicks in. Suddenly, being alone feels easier. Being lonely is better than being scared. It’s comfortable, familiar. And now that you’ve thought about it—why were you even on Hinge in the first place? Suddenly, everything about this person feels off—but in reality, they are the exact same person you liked yesterday. You haven’t even been on the first date yet.
There’s no quick fix, but there are things you can do to help. When you think, “There’s something wrong with this guy,” don’t engage with the thought. Acknowledge it, sit with the feeling, but DO NOT RUMINATE. Lean into the discomfort. Notice where it’s coming from, but don’t try to force it away. I know, it sounds uncomfortable—and it is. But the more you do it, the less intense it feels.
If you’re thinking, “I wouldn’t feel this way if he was my future husband,” let me tell you right now: you do not become magically healed when you find ‘The One.’ And, actually, there is no ‘The One.’
I know the spiritual girlies are going to hate me for this, but the soulmate myth keeps people trapped in a perpetual cycle of chasing something better. In reality, there are just people we get along with, are attracted to, and who have the capacity to grow with us. So, if you go from “I really like him” to “I have never been less interested in my life” overnight, I hate to say it, but you should probably still go on that date.
Now, let’s talk about my anxious girlies who, bless their hearts, experience these swings too—but for different reasons. When you seek love and validation, it’s easy to get attached. In Euphoria, Cassie fell ‘ in love with every guy she ever dated, whether he was smart or dumb or sweet or cruel.” (Yes, I know that line by heart.) You get attached because you take everything you want and project it onto this person. You live in your head. You put them on a pedestal. By date three, you’re already lulling yourself to sleep thinking about how much your parents will love him—or how kind he’ll be to your future daughter. And then… the red flags roll in, and in the back of your mind you realise, he’s not that great. That version of him you created in your mind? That’s not him. Maybe he starts saying things that don’t align with your values. Maybe he’s inconsistent (this HURTS—like, this is your perfect guy, why is he taking 10 hours to reply to a text???). But instead of leaving when you stop feeling fulfilled or when you realise that he’s not a good guy, you escape into your imagination. He’s nice there. You feel too attached to leave, but you also feel deeply let down by unmet expectations and you resent him for not being what you needed him to be.
Now you're swinging between “he’s perfect” and “he’s the worst person I’ve ever met” . It's exhausting.
You’re obsessed.
You hate him.
You’re considering getting back on antidepressants.
It’s a mess.
First thing you need to do is stop living in your head. I know, I know—it’s safe there. He’s nice there. But it’s not real. When you start fantasising about him as the father of your children, STOP. You do not know this man. You do not love him—it’s just limerence, babe. I hate to call you out, but people only feel this way when their self-esteem is low and they’re looking for external validation, or they never learned to self-soothe as a child. You need to really know that your self-worth isn’t determined by someone who barely knows you. And if they leave? (Which they might), it’s not because you weren’t good enough. It’s because they don’t have the capacity for a relationship right now—and that’s okay. All you can do is be genuinely yourself—no morphing into someone you think they’d like more. Because news flash, if they only like the curated version of you, they don’t actually like you. And you know that. And if you can’t be seen or loved for who you really are—You’ll feel even worse. If you take away all the overthinking, fantasizing, and anxious spirals—do you actually like them? Do you feel happy when you’re around them? If not? You need to be willing to walk away. And if you do like them? Take a breath. Get out of your head. And go on the damn date.
