Catching Myself in a Familiar Cycle

Touching down after a fantasy whirlwind

Today marks day eight of my time on Substack, and I’ve been wanting to jot down some reflections from my first week here.

But there’s something more pressing on my mind, it’s a familiar inner pattern I’ve been noticing again.

I’m often drawn to shiny new things: ideas, people, possibilities. I score in the top 2% for Openness, according to the Big Five personality profile. I get excited. Enthralled, even. Sometimes my imagination fills in the gaps before I’ve really taken the time to understand what I’m looking at. Sound familiar?

For me, this can show up most intensely around new people I admire, especially women who radiate something I find compelling. Once I’ve spotted a few qualities I connect with, I can easily idealise them. Suddenly, they’re no longer a person but a kind of glowing archetype: wise, radiant, full of depth and mystery. My critical thinking short-circuits. I long to be seen by them, understood by them, validated.

This tendency goes way back. When I was 18, I fell hard for someone, my first real love. It took me over a decade to understand that I’d been more in love with a fantasy than the real person. Underneath the intense physical chemistry, we just weren’t compatible. In truth, I didn’t even like her very much. But I couldn’t see that at the time.

Even now, 17 years into marriage with the most incredible woman I’ve known, this pattern occasionally reappears. It’s not as something I act on outwardly, but as something that plays out in my inner world. To be absolutely clear: I don’t cross boundaries. I’m always very clear with people that I’m married. And I don’t flirt (not intentionally anyway). My marriage is the most important commitment in my life. And these whirlwind moments aren’t about clandestine sex or romantic betrayal, they’re more about the internal stories I spin, often without realising it.

The good news is, I seem to be catching these patterns more quickly these days. This most recent one emerged during my first week on Substack. It burned bright and fast, and then fizzled out just as suddenly. This morning I’m left with a kind of relationship hangover: groggy, bemused, wondering what the fuck just happened.

There’s nothing wrong with a bit of fantasy, in and of itself. Attraction is part of being human… and I’m talking about personality as much as physical appearance. But fantasies belong in the imagination. They’re rarely reliable guides for real-world decisions. Real integrity means respecting the boundaries and values that anchor your life. That’s what it means to grow up.

Looking back, I can see what I was really longing for: connection, understanding, inspiration… and I now see this particular fantasy could never have delivered those things, not in the way I need them anyway. Fantasises are fun but they very rarely deliver. The grass always looks greener on the other side, until you peer more closely.

Am I proud of this flaw? No. But I’m proud of recognising it sooner. I’m proud of stepping back gracefully and without blame: neither towards the other person or myself. She didn’t do anything wrong. She deserves kindness, not projection. And I’m no longer the immature version of myself who ghosts people when confronted by uncomfortable feelings.

If she reads this, I hope it helps explain why I’ve stepped back. I tried to do so kindly and respectfully, without over-explaining in private messages.

Will my pattern resurface in the future? Probably. But each time I see it more clearly, I strengthen the part of me that’s grounded in reality, the part that values honesty, respect, and emotional responsibility.

---

Full transparency - I did use AI on this. I wrote the first draft and then used ChatGPT to sand off some rough edges. Then I went back and smoothed out the horrible AI-speak, em dashes, etc.

---

Like my writing?

No paywalls here — I trust readers to decide what it’s worth.

If you feel like it, you can send a small tip via Ko-fi.