We’ve all done it: constructed a false reality of someone we’re romantically attracted to. In some ways, it’s a rite of passage. To love is to imagine. Because if you don’t, how can you know what you really want, or desire?
Fantasy works until your brain tries to warp it into a false reality that is ultimately punted into space by actual happenings. Then, when the fantasy doesn’t show, disappointment hardens our hearts. Reality doesn’t do this to scare or disappoint; but to remind us that fantasy only takes us part of the way. Fantasy is the backbone to expectation, which forms the basis for every interaction and relationship we carry. In turn, expectations form our standards. And our standards? Well, those lead to boundaries as we decide what we will and will not tolerate in love.
Unfortunately, the road to defining those boundaries involves shattered fantasies filled with antagonists we hoped would choose us. But they didn’t, or couldn’t, so we find ourselves desperate to reconcile the disappointed dreams before us.
So how, exactly, do we do that?
The first step is to seek new experiences grounded in reality. This isn’t always easy – or immediate – as delays love to deter dreams, but it is helpful. As you start to weed through new experiences, you discover the things that matter most for connection. Reality begins to color your experiences. You start to see things for what they are and what they could be by virtue of how various experiences make you feel.
This has always been a sticky point in my own love life. Romantic opportunities never really manifested, so when new interests would come into my life, I would either (1) ignore them entirely or (2) chase them. Both instances inspired a flurry of fantasy which fell face first into a bone-dry well of emotional unavailability. I kept experiencing the same things over and over again with little variation. Recently, that changed. A catalyst leaped into my life and delivered an entirely new perspective on what I wanted and did not want. The attributes and warmth he brought completely changed my perspective. Like a light in the dark, this person’s presence was an illumination of a path forward. Of what could be without fantasy. People can possess it all: brains, humor, emotional sensitivity, and independence. Suddenly, my world shifted.
The same could very well be said for traditional dating: you must kiss a few frogs to uncover your prince. But maybe – just occasionally – the prince lands before you sooner than you think and shows you what you can have, sans fantasy. But it all involves sorting and opportunities.
When examining past romantic interests, it helps to compare and contrast what these new opportunities are showing you withwhat past loves showed you. Ask yourself:
- What did effort look like with a past person, versus now? How did that shape the fantasy I constructed of them?
- What have these new experiences taught me about my own worth and needs?
- What was the fantasy of the old love interest really telling me? How was it showing me what I wanted and/or needed?
- How are these new experiences and opportunities showing me what I need? What did I need romantically with a past interest versus now?
Another way is to find small, grounding patterns to coax you back to reality.
Half of the time, I find myself in a fantasy without realizing I’m doing it. Perhaps its imagining yourself out on a date, or dreaming of what someone might say/confess, but you launch into this narrative that starts to overwrite reality. Find a way to bring a physical stop to the mental pattern.
For example:
Feel the vision begin and pause. Touch your arm or wrist. Breathe deeply, and ask yourself: Why am I slipping into this fantasy now? What is this trying to tell me? Often, the answer is that this person is not giving you what you need, so your brain is rewriting the script, so they fit what you want them to be. Landing at that realization should feel like a mental ice-bucket challenge. Step back and reassess.
Look at someone’s actions and listen to what your body is telling you.
A person’s actions are their truth. If someone is hesitating, that is a sign of their intention. Granted, it’s not always negative or emotional availability, but that hesitancy? It reveals something that brings them pause. It could be a fear, or worry, or a vulnerability they have. But it reveals something about their inner world. Don’t ignore that. Let whatever the hesitation is guide you.
At the same time, listen to exactly what your body is telling you. How do you feel around a certain love interest? Do they feel the same way as they do in your imaginings? Do you feel the same physical excitement, or warmth, or belonging you imagined?
In a recent experience, I found myself sitting in my car after meeting with my person of interest. I had JUST witnessed something interesting that, when combined with a recent romantic opportunity, caused me to question everything. I was sitting in my car, head against the steering wheel, with a sinking feeling in my stomach and a discordant unease in my chest. My body seemed to say: are we done with this yet?
And, finally, I was. I had to be.
This post was one of the harder ones I’ve had to write because it was a double dose of reality and personal processing. As a writer and dreamer, fantasizing is my way of processing. I write stories to untangle the thorny threads of life. But in untangling those threads, it becomes glaringly obvious how those threads became tangled in the first place. In this case, that starts with the very thing I adore most: fantasy.
But fantasy? It is only part of the picture.
Action is reality. And for all the stage fantasy sets, it is ultimately the actors and their performances that leave the most lasting impression. Why should love be any different?

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