Dear Paloma,
I’ve been dating someone for about six months, and I can’t figure out what’s wrong with me.
When we’re together, everything feels incredible. We laugh, the chemistry is intense, and I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. But then he’ll disappear for a day or two without any explanation. Sometimes he cancels our plans at the last minute, only to text me later like nothing happened.
Every time he pulls away, I tell myself I’m done. Yet the moment he reaches out, I’m right back where I started.
Recently, I met someone else.
He’s kind, emotionally available, communicates openly, and actually follows through on what he says. My friends keep telling me he’s exactly what I’ve been looking for, but I don’t feel that same rush. Instead, it almost feels… boring.
Now I’m questioning everything.
Am I settling? Or am I chasing the wrong feeling?
—Con el Corazón Hecho Bolas
Dear Con el Corazón Hecho Bolas,
First, thank you for writing in and sharing wanting to share your experience with others. I want you to know you’re not alone. In fact, this is one of the most common questions I hear—not only in my therapy office, but from people trying to make sense of their relationships.
The first thing I’d like you to consider is this:
Not every butterfly is a sign of love. Sometimes it’s a sign of anxiety.
We often describe the “spark” as racing thoughts, excitement, and butterflies in our stomach. But our bodies don’t always distinguish between excitement and uncertainty.
When someone is inconsistent—texting one day and disappearing the next—our nervous system can go into overdrive. We replay conversations, check our phones more often than we’d like to admit, wonder what we did wrong, and wait for the next moment of connection.
That emotional roller coaster can feel intoxicating.
But here’s the difficult truth:
Sometimes what we call chemistry is actually our nervous system responding to unpredictability.
For many LGBTQ+ individuals, relationships haven’t always felt safe or consistent. Whether it was growing up hiding who you were, fearing rejection, experiencing conditional acceptance, or navigating relationships where you felt you had to earn love, those experiences can shape how your nervous system responds to intimacy.
Over time, we can begin to mistake what feels familiar for what feels healthy. Then someone emotionally available comes along. They communicate. They show up. They don’t leave you guessing. Instead of your heart racing, your body begins to relax. Ironically, that sense of peace can feel unfamiliar. Some people even interpret it as a lack of chemistry. But maybe what’s missing isn’t passion. Maybe what’s missing is chaos.
Before you decide whether someone is right for you, ask yourself a different question:
How do I feel when I’m with them?
Do I feel like I have to earn their attention? Do I spend more time wondering what they’re think than simply enjoying the relationship? Can I be myself, or am I constantly trying to keep them interested?
The answers to those questions will tell you far more than butterflies ever could. This doesn’t mean the emotionally available person is automatically your person, and it doesn’t mean every relationship that feels exciting is unhealthy. It simply means that if peace feels unfamiliar, it may be worth exploring why.
Sometimes our hearts chase what feels familiar, while our healing asks us to choose what feels safe. The goal isn’t to avoid chemistry. The goal is to find someone who offers both chemistry and consistency. Because real love shouldn’t leave you wondering where you stand. It should make you feel seen, respected, and free to be yourself.
Sometimes the greatest sign that you’re healing isn’t finding someone who gives you butterflies. It’s finding someone who gives you peace.
Con cariño, Paloma