Love Isn't a Mind Game: It's a Safety Game

A while back, a friend called me at 11:47 PM and opened with: “Tell me if I’m being dramatic.” You already know what that means. It means they’ve been carrying something heavy for weeks and finally cracked open.

She was dating someone she really liked. Chemistry? Great. Conversation? Easy. The “what are we?” vibe? Confusing enough to make her overthink every text.

“He says he cares about me,” she said, “but I never feel calm.”

That line stayed with me because I think it describes so many modern relationships. We think love is supposed to feel intense all the time — butterflies, uncertainty, highs and lows, checking our phone like it owes us rent. But if we’re honest, a lot of what we call “spark” is actually anxiety wearing a cute outfit.

So here’s the close-friend version of relationship advice, not therapist-perfect, just real-life useful:

Love is not a performance.

You don’t have to earn basic kindness by being extra pretty, extra chill, extra available, or extra patient. You don’t have to decode mixed signals like you’re studying for an exam. If someone likes you, you should not feel like a detective in your own relationship.

I know the internet loves saying “if they wanted to, they would.” I think that’s mostly true, but life is messy. People get busy, people get scared, people communicate badly. What matters isn’t perfection — it’s pattern.

Do they repair when things go wrong? Do they follow through? Do they make room for your feelings without making you feel “too much”?

That’s the stuff that builds trust. Not grand gestures. Not occasional romantic speeches. Pattern.

One of the healthiest shifts I ever made in dating was this: I stopped asking “Do they like me?” and started asking “Do I feel safe being myself around them?”

Safe doesn’t mean boring. Safe means: - I can bring up hard things without being punished. - I can have a bad day without being treated like a burden. - I can say no without fear. - I can say “this hurt me” and not get mocked, ghosted, or guilt-tripped.

You’d be shocked how many relationships look “cute” from the outside but fail this test privately.

Another thing no one tells you enough: inconsistency is exhausting in a way that looks like “overthinking.” You’re not crazy because you feel confused. You feel confused because the signals are confusing.

If someone is warm on Monday, distant on Tuesday, intimate on Wednesday, unavailable on Thursday, and suddenly sweet again on Friday, your nervous system is going to feel like it just ran a marathon. That’s not romance. That’s emotional whiplash.

And yes, sometimes inconsistency has innocent reasons. But if it keeps happening and you keep shrinking yourself to accommodate it, your self-esteem quietly leaks out.

I also want to say this gently: being chosen isn’t the same as being cherished.

Someone can choose you for convenience, timing, loneliness, ego, habit, attraction, or fear of being alone. Being cherished looks different. It looks like care in the details. It looks like respect when no one’s watching. It looks like being considered, not managed.

If you’re wondering whether to stay in something confusing, try this tiny check-in:

After spending time with them, do I feel: - more grounded or more anxious? - more like myself or more performative? - more clear or more confused?

Your body usually knows before your brain admits it.

Now, if you’re in a rough patch with someone good, don’t panic at every conflict. Healthy love still has arguments, misunderstandings, awkward moments, and bad timing. The goal isn’t “no conflict.” The goal is “can we handle conflict without hurting each other’s dignity?”

There’s a huge difference between “we fight and repair” and “we fight and I feel smaller every time.”

Also: please stop calling your needs “needy.”

Wanting consistency, reassurance, effort, and emotional availability is not clingy. It’s human. You’re not asking for too much. You might just be asking the wrong person.

And if this lands hard because you know you’ve been holding onto almost-love, I’m not here to shame you. We all do this. We stay because of potential, history, chemistry, hope, fear, and those tiny moments that make us think, “Maybe this can still become what I need.”

Hope is beautiful. But hope without evidence turns into self-abandonment.

Love should stretch you, yes. But it should not erase you.

So if you need permission today, here it is from a friend who wants your peace more than your fantasy:

Choose the relationship where you don’t have to audition for basic care. Choose the person whose actions make your life softer, not more chaotic. Choose the love that feels like home, not a puzzle.

And if you haven’t found that yet, you are not behind. You are not broken. You are not hard to love.

You’re learning discernment, and that is a love story too.

Real love won’t require you to abandon yourself to keep it.

It will meet you there — as you are — and make you feel safe enough to grow.