Do I Like Him, or Do I Like Being Liked?

on external validation, romantic attention, and the uncomfortable relationship between my ego and my heart.

Dear Diary,

    I've been thinking about a question lately, and quite frankly, I don't think I like what the answer might say about me.

Do I actually like the men I entertain, or do I just like knowing that they like me?

    It's an uncomfortable question to ask myself, mostly because I'd like to believe that I'm a lot more emotionally mature than that. I like to think that when I'm interested in someone, it's because I genuinely enjoy their company, find them attractive, or see the potential for something more. Not because I need another person to reassure me that I'm desirable.

    But the more I reflect on my dating experiences, the more I've started to realize that attraction and validation aren't always as separate as I'd like them to be.

    And sometimes, I'm not entirely sure which one I'm chasing.

the appeal of being wanted ♡

    There's something undeniably satisfying about knowing someone wants you.

    The compliments, the flirting, the little notifications that pop up on your phone. The knowledge that someone is actively thinking about you, finding you attractive, and making an effort to get your attention.

    I mean, who wouldn't enjoy that?

    But I think there's a difference between enjoying romantic attention and depending on it to feel good about yourself.

    And I'm starting to wonder how often I've crossed that line without realizing it.

    I've noticed that sometimes, the attention itself becomes more exciting than the person giving it to me. I like the anticipation of a message, the playful flirting, and the reassurance that somebody finds me interesting enough to pursue.

    But when I actually stop and ask myself what I like about him, specifically, the answer isn't always as obvious.

    Do I like his personality? His sense of humor? The way he thinks? The conversations we have?

    Or do I just like how he makes me feel about myself?

    Because those are two very different things.

    One is attraction to another person. The other is attraction to the version of yourself that exists through their eyes.

    And I think I've occasionally confused the two.

rejection, or a bruised ego?

    Here's where things get a little embarrassing.

    I've realized that I can feel disappointed when someone loses interest in me, even when I wasn't particularly interested in them to begin with.

    Which makes absolutely no sense.

    If I didn't want a relationship with him, why should it matter if he doesn't want one with me?

    Logically, it shouldn't.

    But emotionally? Apparently, my ego didn't get the memo.

    There's a strange discomfort that comes with realizing someone no longer sees you the way they once did. Not necessarily because you wanted them, but because you've lost the reassurance that they wanted you.

    And I think that's an important distinction.

    Sometimes, I wonder whether I've mistaken a bruised ego for a broken heart.

    Psychologically, rejection can feel like a threat to our sense of self-worth. It isn't always about losing a meaningful connection. Sometimes, it's about what we interpret that rejection to mean about ourselves.

    Am I not attractive enough? Was I not interesting enough? Did I do something wrong?

    Suddenly, someone else's changing feelings become evidence in a case I seem determined to build against myself.

    And the ridiculous part is that I might not have even wanted the guy.

    I just didn't particularly enjoy the feeling of no longer being wanted by him.

    It's not a flattering realization, but I think there's value in admitting it.

the boy who gives me everything I thought I wanted ♡

    I think the reason I've been questioning all of this lately is because of someone I've recently gotten closer to.

    For the sake of anonymity, we'll call him Arthur.

    Arthur and I started seeing each other with the mutual understanding that I wasn't looking for a relationship. It was supposed to be casual, uncomplicated, and fun. And initially, that's exactly what it was.

    Physically, he's cute. He's just not necessarily my usual type. I wasn't immediately infatuated with him, nor did I feel the kind of overwhelming attraction that I've experienced with other guys.

    But lately, something has started to change.

    We've gotten closer. He FaceTimes me almost every night. He responds to my texts almost immediately. He watches and responds to the TikToks I send him, no matter how stupid they are. And I genuinely believe that if I asked him to come see me in the middle of the night, he'd find a way to make it happen.

    It's the kind of attention I've spent months wishing I could get from someone else.

    And the irony isn't lost on me.

    Because not too long ago, I was practically begging for the bare minimum from someone I genuinely wanted.

    I've written about Lawyer Guy before. And while I'm not particularly interested in revisiting every detail of that situation, I do think it's important to acknowledge how much it has influenced the way I'm experiencing this one.

    With LG, I never had to question whether I was attracted to him. I knew I liked him. I liked his personality, his intelligence, his sense of humor, and the way I felt when we were together.

    What I did question, constantly, was whether he liked me nearly as much.

    I spent so much time overanalyzing response times, making excuses for inconsistent communication, and convincing myself that I was perfectly fine with receiving significantly less attention than I actually wanted.

    And when things ultimately fell apart, I was left with a lot of feelings that I didn't quite know what to do with.

    Now, here's someone who gives me the attention I wanted without being asked.

    I don't have to wonder whether Arthur wants to talk to me. I don't have to question whether I'm bothering him by texting first. I don't have to spend hours trying to figure out what a change in his tone means.

    If I want to talk to him, I can.

    And there's something incredibly comforting about that.

    But there's also something about it that makes me question myself.

    Because lately, I've found myself looking forward to our conversations. I enjoy talking to him. I like hearing about his day, telling him about mine, and knowing that, at some point in the evening, my phone will probably light up with his name.

    And I can't tell whether that's the beginning of a crush or simply the relief of finally receiving the attention I've been craving.

the psychology of emotional compensation

    I've been thinking about the concept of emotional compensation lately.

    Not necessarily in a clinical sense, but in the way we sometimes seek out experiences that make up for something we previously felt deprived of.

    If someone made us feel ignored, we might become especially drawn to someone who makes us feel noticed.

    If someone made us feel unimportant, we might become attached to someone who consistently makes time for us.

    And if someone made us question whether we were desirable, we might find ourselves particularly receptive to attention that reassures us otherwise.

    I wonder if that's part of what's happening with Arthur.

    Because after spending so much time feeling like an afterthought, there's something almost intoxicating about being someone's priority.

    Arthur doesn't necessarily have to do anything extraordinary to impress me. Sometimes, all it takes is answering my text, calling when he says he will, or showing genuine enthusiasm about seeing me.

    Things that should probably feel normal.

    But after getting used to their absence, they feel extraordinary.

    And perhaps that's the problem.

    I'm not necessarily comparing Arthur to some objective standard of what I want in a romantic partner.

    I'm comparing him to what I was missing before.

    And when you've spent months feeling emotionally unsatisfied, even ordinary acts of attention can feel disproportionately meaningful.

    Which raises an uncomfortable question.

Would I be developing the same feelings for Arthur if LG had never happened?

    If I hadn't spent months questioning another man's interest in me, would Arthur's consistency have the same emotional effect?

    Would I still look forward to his calls? Would I still find myself smiling at his messages? Would I still be wondering whether this was developing into something more?

    Or is part of my attachment rooted in the contrast between the two experiences?

    I genuinely don't know.

    And I think that uncertainty is worth examining.

attraction, attachment, and the need for validation

    I think another interesting aspect of my situation with Arthur is that I'm aware his attraction to me is largely physical.

    He makes it very clear that he likes my appearance, my body, and the physical chemistry between us.

    And don't get me wrong, I enjoy that.

    I'm not going to sit here and pretend that being told I'm attractive doesn't make me feel good.

    It does.

    But sometimes I wonder whether the foundation of our dynamic is less romantic than it appears.

    He likes the way I look.

    I like the way he makes me feel.

    And while we genuinely enjoy each other's company, I'm starting to wonder whether we're both receiving different forms of validation from the same connection.

    There's something psychologically interesting about that.

    Because I think people often assume that romantic attraction is a straightforward feeling. You either like someone or you don't.

    But I'm beginning to think it's considerably more complicated.

    Attraction can be physical, emotional, intellectual, or even situational. We can become attached to someone because of their personality, but we can also become attached to the comfort, familiarity, and reassurance their presence provides.

    And sometimes those things overlap.

    Maybe I like Arthur because he's funny, attentive, and genuinely enjoyable to talk to.

    Maybe I like him because he's giving me the consistency I've been craving.

    Maybe it's both.

    But I think what worries me is the possibility that I'm allowing the second reason to convince me of the first.

    I don't want to mistake consistency for compatibility.

    I don't want to develop feelings for someone simply because he's giving me something another person wouldn't.

    And I especially don't want to pursue something romantic because I enjoy being wanted more than I actually want the person doing the wanting.

    That wouldn't be fair to him, or to me.

    At the same time, I don't want to dismiss the possibility that my feelings are genuine just because they developed differently than I'm used to.

    Maybe attraction doesn't always begin with butterflies, nervousness, or an overwhelming desire to impress someone.

    Maybe sometimes it develops quietly, through late-night conversations, inside jokes, and the comfort of knowing someone is going to pick up the phone.

    Maybe what I'm experiencing isn't a false sense of attraction.

    Maybe I'm just unfamiliar with the feeling of being consistently wanted.

when attention becomes a distraction

    I think another uncomfortable part of this realization is recognizing how easy it can be to use romantic attention as an emotional distraction.

    When I'm feeling rejected, lonely, insecure, or disappointed, there's something tempting about turning toward someone new.

    A new conversation. A new flirtation. A new person who doesn't know anything about my previous disappointments.

    It's almost like getting a fresh start without having to actually process what happened before.

    And for a little while, it works.

    I feel attractive again. Interesting again. Wanted again.

    But the thing about external validation is that it's temporary.

    A compliment can make me feel beautiful for a moment, but it doesn't necessarily change the way I see myself when I'm alone.

    And another person's interest can't magically resolve the insecurities that existed before they entered my life.

    I've started questioning whether some of my recent dating decisions have been motivated by genuine curiosity or by my desire to prove something to myself.

    That I'm still desirable.

    That I have options.

    That one person's rejection doesn't mean I'm somehow less worthy of affection.

    And while there's nothing inherently wrong with meeting new people or enjoying casual experiences, I think the motivation behind those choices matters.

    At least, it matters to me.

    Because I don't want to use other people as temporary solutions to feelings I'm unwilling to confront.

    And I certainly don't want my self-esteem to depend on whether someone happens to find me attractive that week.

the difference between wanting someone and wanting to be chosen

    I've written before about my anxious attachment and my tendency to overthink romantic relationships.

    But lately, I've started considering whether there's another layer to those patterns.

    Maybe part of my anxiety isn't just about losing someone I care about.

    Maybe it's also about what losing them seems to say about me.

    I think I've sometimes treated romantic interest like a measurement of my worth.

    If someone is pursuing me, I must be attractive, interesting, and worthy of affection.

    If they stop, something must have changed.

    And rather than accepting that attraction is subjective and people's feelings are complicated, I start searching for something I could've done differently.

    As though being wanted is an accomplishment, and being rejected is a personal failure.

    But the more I think about it, the more absurd that sounds.

    Someone's attraction to me doesn't make me inherently more valuable.

    And their lack of attraction doesn't make me less valuable, either.

    I know that intellectually.

    The harder part is actually believing it when I'm the one experiencing rejection.

    Because there's a difference between understanding a concept and emotionally internalizing it.

    And apparently, I still have some work to do in that department.

    I also think there's an important distinction between wanting someone and wanting to be chosen by them.

    Wanting someone means appreciating who they are, independently of how they feel about you.

    Wanting to be chosen is different.

    It's wanting the reassurance that you're good enough, attractive enough, interesting enough, or special enough for someone to want you.

    And I don't think there's anything inherently wrong with wanting that reassurance.

    But I do think it becomes a problem when the desire to be chosen starts outweighing the question of whether you actually want the person choosing you.

    Because being pursued isn't the same thing as being compatible.

    Being wanted isn't the same thing as being understood.

    And being chosen isn't necessarily the same thing as being loved.

learning to want, instead of just wanting to be wanted ♡

    I don't think the solution is to stop enjoying attention.

    I like flirting. I like compliments. I like romance. I like knowing someone finds me attractive.

    I'm not going to pretend otherwise.

    And I don't think there's anything shameful about wanting to feel desired.

    It's human.

    But I do want to become more intentional about the people I entertain and the reasons I entertain them.

    I want to be able to distinguish genuine interest from the temporary excitement of being pursued.

    I want to stop interpreting someone's rejection as a reflection of my value.

    And, perhaps most importantly, I want to stop confusing someone choosing me with that person actually being right for me.

    Which brings me back to Arthur.

    I don't know exactly what I'm feeling toward him yet.

    I know that I enjoy talking to him. I know that I look forward to his calls. I know that I appreciate how much effort he puts into staying connected with me.

    And I know that his attention has made the aftermath of my experience with LG a little easier to navigate.

    But whether that comfort is developing into genuine romantic attraction is something I haven't quite figured out.

    And maybe I don't need to have the answer immediately.

    Maybe I can enjoy getting to know someone without trying to assign a label to every feeling that develops along the way.

    Maybe I can appreciate being wanted without interpreting that desire as an obligation to reciprocate it.

    And maybe I can acknowledge that part of me is still healing from one experience while remaining open to the possibility of something different.

    I think the important thing is being honest with myself about what I'm feeling, rather than convincing myself of something simply because it's emotionally convenient.

    Because for so long, I've been asking myself why the men I like don't seem to want me the way I want them.

    Now, someone seems to want me in a way I've spent months wishing to be wanted.

    And I'm confronted with an entirely different problem.

    I don't know if I want him.

    Or if I just love that, for once, I don't have to wonder whether he wants me.

    Until next time,

xoxo, Keke♡