One of the hardest conversations I have with clients in my wee therapy room is this one:
"I know they're inconsistent."
"I know they're emotionally unavailable."
"I know they're terrible at communicating."
… “But I've never felt chemistry like this before."
Oof. We’ve all been there, eh?
Here's the thing: chemistry is real. I'm not one of those people who thinks attraction doesn't matter or that you can logic your way into desire. You can't. Sexual attraction, emotional compatibility, shared values, and timing all matter.
But chemistry isn't always telling us what we think it is.
Sometimes what we're calling chemistry is actually anxiety.
Let's talk about why.
When someone is unpredictable, our brains pay attention. We go around the same kinds of thought patterns.
Will they text?
Will they not text?
Do they like me?
Did I say something wrong?
When's the next date?
Why did they leave me on read?
Your nervous system hates uncertainty. It's constantly trying to solve it. And the harder it has to work, the more space that person can start taking up in your mind.
You find yourself replaying conversations in the shower. Analyzing emojis. Reading into punctuation. Wondering whether taking four hours to respond instead of two means they're losing interest.
And listen, palls, it starts to feel all-consuming. It gets you going in a way that you can’t even explain, ya know?
Many people interpret that feeling as passion. As something so hot and sexy and intense that they want more. But being consumed by someone isn't the same thing as feeling connected to them.
I think part of the confusion comes from the stories we've inherited about love.
We're told love should be obsessive. That you should lose your appetite. Forget how to function. Feel completely overwhelmed by another person's existence.
If someone makes us feel calm, we worry the spark is missing. We find is boring.
If someone makes us question our sanity, we call our friends and say, "I've never felt this way before."
Well...yes, that is true in some respect.
Anxiety often feels different from secure attachment.
For people who grew up in environments where love felt inconsistent or unpredictable, this can become even more complicated. Your nervous system learns that closeness and uncertainty belong together. As an adult, someone who keeps you guessing can feel strangely familiar. We recognize the unhealthy behavior as something we know and something we want.
Familiar doesn't always mean healthy.
It just means your brain has seen this pattern before. That's one of the reasons emotionally available people sometimes get described as "boring" or “blah” or “uninteresting.”
Not because they actually are. Because they aren't activating the same alarm system. You know where you stand with them. They text back. They make plans. They follow through. They tell you how they feel. There's nothing to decode.
For someone who's used to chasing love, that can feel...oddly quiet and a ‘lil bit freaky.
I've heard people say, "They're almost too nice."
Whenever I hear that, I get really curious. Are they too nice? Or just emotionally consistent?
There's another piece to this that I think deserves more attention. Healthy relationships aren't free from excitement. They just create excitement differently.
Instead of wondering whether someone is going to disappear, you're wondering what trip you'll take together next year.
Instead of trying to earn affection, you're discovering new parts of each other.
Instead of chasing reassurance from someone who won’t give it to you, you're building trust.
That's a much steadier kind of excitement. It doesn't spike quite as dramatically. But it lasts a whole lot longer.
Now, before anyone starts worrying that I'm saying all chemistry is rooted in attachment trauma, let me stop you right there.
Sometimes chemistry is just chemistry.
Sometimes you meet someone and you're wildly attracted to them. Amazing.
The goal isn't to distrust every intense feeling you have.
The goal is to ask one extra question: What exactly is creating this intensity?
Is it genuine connection? Shared values? Sexual attraction?
Curiosity? Or is it uncertainty?
One of my favorite exercises is incredibly simple. The next time you describe someone as "exciting," ask yourself why. Is it because you feel seen? Or because you never know where you stand? Those are two very different experiences.
I've also found it helpful to ask clients how they feel after spending time with someone. Not during. After. Do you leave feeling energized, grounded, and more like yourself? Or do you leave feeling confused, anxious, and desperate for the next sliver of reassurance?
Your nervous system often tells a more honest story than the butterflies do, my lovelies. Real chemistry doesn't require emotional whiplash and constantly being on edge.
The healthiest relationships I've seen aren't the ones where people spend years trying to figure each other out. They're the ones where two people feel safe enough to keep discovering each other.
Maybe that's the chemistry worth chasing.
