Limerence: When Love Becomes a Haunting

Have you ever felt like a single message could make or break your entire day?Like your heartbeat depends on a notification? Like a glance, a silence, or an Instagram story could pull your emotions into orbit?

That feeling — raw, obsessive, tender, and tormenting — is something most of us have felt. Yet very few of us have the language to describe it. We just call it a crush, a soulmate feeling, or even destiny.

But often, what we’re feeling isn’t love. It’s something else entirely.

It’s called limerence.

Limerence is an emotional obsession — a psychological state where you’re consumed by the thought of another person, usually without the stability or clarity of a mutual relationship. It’s like being drunk on what could be and devastated by what isn’t.

In limerence, everything feels cosmic. You read between the lines of their texts. You search for signs. You replay every small interaction. You interpret coincidences as fate. And in that, you begin to believe: this has to mean something.

But behind that magic is often a slow burn of pain.Because the truth is — you’re not in love with the person. You’re in love with the feeling of being chosen by them.

Limerence thrives on uncertainty. You don't fully know them — but your mind fills in the blanks with idealized versions. You're not in a relationship — but the emotional intensity feels bigger than any real one you've had. It’s fantasy masquerading as fate.

Why do so many of us fall into it?

For many, it’s because of emotional wounds — especially those from childhood. If you had to earn love growing up, if affection felt scarce or inconsistent, limerence often feels familiar. It mimics that early hunger. The same craving to be seen, to be picked, to feel significant in someone’s world.

Limerence also tends to show up when we feel empty in other areas. Maybe you’re unfulfilled at work, spiritually disconnected, or just emotionally starved. And suddenly, this person — often unavailable or inconsistent — becomes your entire emotional center. They reflect back something you’ve longed to feel: desired, noticed, worthy.

But the irony? That very feeling of “this is meant to be” can become the cage. Because you begin to wait. You wait for messages. You wait for signs. You wait for their validation to feel alive again. You wait for them to love you the way you already love the idea of them.

And that’s when it stops being romantic and starts becoming self-abandonment.

Here’s what I’ve learned: limerence is not your fault. It’s not weakness. It’s not desperation. It’s a symptom of unmet needs. It’s an echo from the past asking to be heard in the present.

So how do we heal from it?

First, by naming it. Naming breaks the spell. Saying, “This isn’t love, it’s limerence,” shifts you out of fantasy and into awareness.

Second, by grieving the fantasy. Because that’s what it is — a fantasy. You’re not just letting go of a person, you’re letting go of the version of yourself who believed this was the only way to feel loved.

Third, by turning inward. The truth is, all the intensity, all the longing — it’s energy. And it’s sacred. But it’s being misdirected outward, when it’s actually asking to be reclaimed. Start journaling. Create something. Meditate. Talk to your inner child. Feed that energy back into your own spirit.

And finally — by choosing yourself, again and again. Not in the dramatic, Instagram-quote way. But quietly. Consistently. In your choices, in your boundaries, in the people you decide are safe enough to love.

Because the opposite of limerence isn’t indifference.It’s clarity.It’s choosing a love that doesn’t make you question your worth.

So, to the version of you that’s still waiting for someone’s text to make you feel lovable…Take a breath.You don’t need to be chosen by someone who confuses you.

You need to be chosen by someone who sees you — and that someone starts with you.

Want to reflect deeper?

Here are a few gentle journaling prompts you can try tonight:

• What do I believe this person gives me that I can’t give myself?

• What am I really craving when I think of them?

• How would it feel to turn that craving into creativity, solitude, or self-care?