A friend of mine—single for quite a while—went on a date recently. Afterward I asked how it went and whether there’d be a second date. Their answer puzzled me: “They really get me. They pick up any topic I toss out and always respond with interest. They made it clear they want to keep seeing me. I’m not feeling much spark, honestly—but since they’re so proactive, I’ll give it another shot.”
When I pressed—Do you actually like them?—they said: “Compared with the high I get from feeling seen and prioritized, my own attraction is faint. Not just this time—most of my past relationships started like this. Someone came on strong and I felt lucky and cherished, so I overlooked big gaps in how we handle long-term partnership, values, and life goals. As things progressed, the cracks only widened.”
That stuck with me. Some relationships don’t start because we fall for the person, but because we’re intoxicated by being firmly chosen. We mistake the rush—being moved, flattered, swept up—for love. Plenty of people drift into relationships this way: hooked on being picked, on feeling favored, gently nudged into intimacy without ever building real closeness—or asking themselves what, exactly, they want love to look like.
1) What happens when you’re addicted to being “the chosen one”?You talk about how they treat you, not who they are“He understands me.” “Only she sees that side of me.” “They never judge me.”
When you describe the relationship, the key phrases all orbit around their attitude toward you. Missing are your own admiration and curiosity about them: their temperament, character, judgment, how they show up when life is hard. Real love, by contrast: the story flows both ways. Yes, “they get me”—and you can name what you genuinely admire in them: how they make decisions, how they handle stress, what they stand for. Love is seeing the “me” in their eyes and the “them” in yours.
You both over-accommodate to preserve the “chosen” highThat early sense of being chosen can create a false feeling of perfect synch. Because someone signals they want a relationship, you inflate that into “they fully understand me” or “they’ll accept anything.” To keep the high going, both people quietly collude: steer away from anything that could spark disagreement, stay in the comfy zone where every exchange feels affirming—never touching the messier, more honest parts of real life. Real love, by contrast: doesn’t dodge friction. It moves from chasing constant emotional resonance to building emotional containment. You can say, “I’m not okay with this,” and still stay present enough to understand each other’s stance.
You idealize “the you in their eyes”—and get addicted to itGenuine appreciation matters in early dating. When someone showers you with attention and praise, it can actually improve how you see yourself—psychologists call this self-enhancement. But if the best part of the relationship is, “Someone this amazing wants me,” “Wow, I’m actually that attractive,” “In their eyes I’m better than everyone else,” then you’re not in love with them—and not even with the real you. You’re in love with a polished mirror. At its core, you’re using the other person as a tool to upgrade your self-image. Real love, by contrast: doesn’t trap you in a flattering reflection. It helps both people gradually see each other as you really are. You can enjoy the moments when you shine and face the flaws and snags the relationship reveals—together.
Intimacy ramps up fast—and burns out just as fastThat “chosen” feeling manufactures a premature sense of emotional safety. A common pattern: after a handful of dates you’re sure you’ve met your soulmate, so the relationship locks in quickly and becomes inseparable overnight. But with time, attention naturally ebbs and flows. When one person can’t keep pouring fuel on the “chosen” fire, the comedown—disappointment, insecurity—can smash the illusion of closeness in an instant. Real love, by contrast: resists the urge to sprint. It tolerates understanding and doubt, harmony and conflict, closeness and boundaries. Time and pressure tests reveal how you each react under stress and where your limits are—laying the foundation for deeper, steadier trust.
You chase favoritism from the wrong personEven when two people aren’t a fit—and your gut already has a list of concerns—you might cling to the joy of feeling preferred and ignore the issues that matter more. Worse, sometimes the person doing the choosing isn’t particularly healthy or kind; the intensity is strategic. That “special treatment” can mask controlling behavior, isolation, or other unstable patterns. Real love, by contrast: puts character and compatibility before chemistry. You weigh their integrity, values, and long-term alignment ahead of how intoxicating they make you feel in the short term.
2) Why do some people get hooked on feeling “chosen”?From a psychology lens, that rush of being picked and approved of lights up something called self-verification—our built-in drive to have other people reflect back the beliefs we hold about ourselves. When the world mirrors our self-view, life feels more predictable and within our control, and our self-concept gets reinforced. In relationships, this “you truly get me” feeling is a cornerstone of intimacy and can make bonds feel steadier over time . There are three common pathways to self-verification: Selective exposure: gravitating toward people and information that confirm our values. Memory and interpretation: recalling and explaining events in ways that fit our self-story. Eliciting feedback: using others’ reactions in the relationship to confirm who we think we are.
When these three stay in balance, we feel a stable sense of self from both inside and out. But if someone leans too hard on other people’s feedback—especially a partner’s—things tip over. People who over-rely on external validation often look like this: Struggle to make decisions without polling others first. Can’t articulate what they genuinely like; they adopt a partner’s hobbies as their own. Say what they think others want to hear; have a hard time saying no. Find long stretches of alone time intolerable and rush toward a relationship.
In close relationships, that imbalance shows up as this: the person isn’t truly seeking connection; they’re seeking a mirror. They need a partner’s gaze to confirm their worth, fishing for constant praise and agreement—essentially turning the relationship into a projection screen for their fragile self-esteem. Where does that come from? Often from early experiences of emotional neglect, a shortage of warm, consistent feedback from key caregivers, or years spent in environments where love felt conditional. In those settings, you learn to treat other people’s reactions as the only reliable source of worth. Attachment style plays a role, too. Folks with insecure attachment (anxious or avoidant) tend to lean more on outside signals to prove they matter, which also makes uncertainty and rejection feel especially threatening . The punchline: over-pursuing the feeling of being “chosen” usually isn’t about love at all—it’s a compensation for an unstable inner belief system. If, deep down, you’re convinced “I’m unlovable” or “I don’t have value,” you’ll keep chasing validation to plug that hole.
The cost of chasing “chosen”For the self:
To preserve the illusion of being the chosen one, people mute their real needs, avoid setting boundaries, and start wearing a mask that fits the partner’s expectations. Over time, they lose contact with their authentic self; their voice gets quieter; their dependence on relationship-based validation grows. For the relationship:
The partner never actually meets the whole person. Meanwhile, the validation-seeker lives with a constant dread: “If I show my real self, they’ll leave.” That anxiety fuels endless reassurance-seeking—“Do you love me?” “What do you even like about me?”—which erodes trust, satisfaction, and both partners’ sense of safety. Research even has a name for it: excessive reassurance seeking—it drains the seeker’s self-worth and leaves the other partner exhausted and demoralized .
Unless those core beliefs shift, no amount of compliments, promises, or proof will crystallize into a stable sense of worth. External soothing can calm the surface for a moment—but it won’t anchor the self.
3) The real work isn’t “how to be loved” — it’s rebuilding a grounded inner selfOur psychological self is built by being seenPsychoanalyst Donald Winnicott argued that when caregivers truly notice an infant’s needs and respond in time, the child can develop a true self. Being seen teaches us our needs are legitimate—that our real self is worth attention and care. That sense of psychological visibility is the bedrock of love. When two people consistently see each other’s inner world—and even glimpse the parts the other can’t yet articulate—the relationship becomes profoundly valuable: through it, we keep discovering who we are. But if the need to be seen has gone unmet for a long time, the true self’s voice is faint. In the present, that makes it crucial to practice seeing yourself first.
Practice self-verification on your own—taste the feeling of being self-sustainingOutside of relationships, rebuild your inner compass with small, concrete reps: Make decisions without polling anyone. Follow your own read. Do things judged only by your taste: watch an obscure movie alone, sign up for a dance class, paint a wall a weird color—just because you like it. Keep an evidence log of self-affirmations. Write down tiny moments like “I ordered what I actually wanted” or “I finished the book I love.”
You may notice a strange, hard-to-name sensation as you do these. That’s the message landing: my choices have value.
Tolerate the “withdrawal” from external approvalIf you’ve relied heavily on relationships to confirm your worth, breakups can feel less like classic heartbreak and more like withdrawal from validation—the pain of meeting the part of you that feels “not good enough when no one is choosing me.” Start small and work up to harder reps: Post an imperfect selfie or an unpopular take on Instagram/TikTok/wherever you hang out online—and don’t delete it if someone nitpicks. Offer an idea in a meeting that might get pushback; if it’s rejected, don’t attack yourself. State a preference that might disappoint your partner. E.g., “I don’t actually want to spend Saturday at your coworkers’ party.”
Stop treating yourself as an object in the relationship—bring your inner life forwardBeing passive won’t keep you safe; it just keeps you powerless. Share the joy of feeling loved and name what doesn’t work.
“I don’t like you telling me what I can or can’t wear,” or “I need you to do X.” Expose your soft spots.
“I’m a little scared.” “I feel jealous.” “Sometimes I lose my temper.” State boundaries and needs without self-censoring.
“When I work late, I’d like you to pick me up.” Don’t spiral into “Is that too much?” or “No one else asks for this—am I being difficult?”
Hold this truth about long-term loveWith anyone, there will be the thrill of deep resonance and the frustration of difference. That tension is part of the deal; it doesn’t mean the relationship is doomed. Durable relationships don’t require one person to prune themselves to match the other. They’re built by two whole, honest selves learning how to move closer and weave intimacy through difference.
Getting hooked on being chosen and approved of is like finding a mirror that reflects your “ideal self” and then parking yourself in front of it all day. A wise teacher once warned: that mirror shows only your most urgent longings. Stay lost in it, and you forget to live in the real world. Don’t.
|