love, limerence, & the liminal space in between
<— discovery —> limerence —> disappearance —>
I want you. I want you forever, now, yesterday, and always. Above all, I want you to want me – is how Dorothy Tennov prefaced her book, first published in 1979.
Tennov was not a writer of sweet love stories or steamy illicit affairs. She was a psychologist and professor, and her book ‘Love and Limerence: The Experience of Being in Love’ is a scientific exploration of ‘limerence’, a term coined by Tennov herself as a spin on the word ‘amorance’.
For what Tennov had discovered, there was no existing word.
So, what is limerence?
The term might be relatively new, but the experience of limerence is timeless.
Amanda McCraken, in an article for the New York Times, defines it as a state of overwhelming and unexpected longing for emotional reciprocation from another person, known as the limerent object (LO), often perceived as perfect yet unattainable.
In other words, a crush. Right?
Well, no.
A study by Willmott and Bentley showed that limerents experience symptoms similar to those of obsessive-compulsive disorder, addiction, separation anxiety and depression, post traumatic stress disorder, disassociated states, and maladaptive fantasy.
This is alarming information. Everyone has had a crush at some point in their life, and sure, many people have described the feeling as a high or an addiction. Euphoric high from making eye contact, obsessively thinking about them day in & night out, withdrawals in the form of full body sobs when they seem distant…
But does that mean we’re suffering from a disorder of sorts?
Tennov answers that and it’s an affirmative no from her. She argues that limerence is not a psychopathology. Instead, it is a style of attachment that can harm a person’s well-being. Not all people experience limerence, but it is a normal and non-pathological condition.
The simplest difference is the loss of free will.
Tennov writes that while we enter into limerence willingly, there comes a time when we’ve had enough. We’re tired of our affections not being reciprocated, so we want to end it. All ‘rational bases for hopefulness have been exhausted’, yet we simply cannot stop obsessing over the object of our limerence. Giulia Poerio, a psychologist at the University of Sussex in England, describes it as the hijack of one’s mind.
Saph, an 18-year-old librarian based in London, described their limerence with their LO, referred to as ‘M’, as an obsession that drove them to suicidal ideation. It was a ‘Wuthering Heights-esque unrefuted love that should never have happened’ because what they mistook for love was a desire to own their LO.
“This realization lifted a huge weight off my chest. I finally felt at peace. We’re best friends now, actually. To be honest, the idea of a romantic or sexual relationship with M doesn’t appeal to me anymore. We’re just not compatible that way. We’re platonic soul mates. We’re not in love.”
Isaac Smith, a 19-year-old UK-based student, has a similar story. He developed a limerence for an online friend, and his one-sided affection for her escalated to the point that he was utterly heartbroken and cried excessively when she expressed her interest in someone else. But that was when he realized he had perceived many of their casual interactions through an “exaggerated rose-colored lens”, trying to build up every friendly compliment and playfully flirty comment into a sign that she liked him romantically.
A common element in Saph and Isaac’s stories is that they both met their LO online while living thousands of miles away in reality. While, of course, people form limerences in the offline world, too, distance – whether literal or figurative – is what unites all angsty limerents.
Larissa Pham in her famous essay, Crush, writes that, “The crush exists at a point of distance. The less I know of you, the better, because then I can safely project my affections onto you. I can begin to write a story, a catalog of intimacies, a script we will inevitably fail.” She writes about the dissolution of self through desire, about learning our boundaries by losing them, and about the promise of being ground down until she disappears.
Those afflicted by limerence build up an image of their LO, an idealized and far-removed version of a very real and flawed human being. It’s even easier to sustain this illusion if there is physical distance between the limerent and the limerent object. The less you know about them the safer it is for you to paint them out to be whomever you want them to be.
Distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?
Apart from distance, the other key aspect of limerence is faith. Tennov quotes Robert Seidenberg in her book, “Love is a human religion in which another person is believed in.” The metaphor of love as religion is an all time favourite of mine. I wrote recently in my Notes App
how much can you think of someone before it becomes devotional. names turn to hymns, memory turns to myth. peach skin falls off; she turns to stone. you die at her altar. you didn’t love her. you worshipped her. the death of your god obliterated you and you live in shadows now. afraid and half-mad.
01:09
Faith’s other name is hope - this is what sustains it, along with fear - and hope is the most arresting and disabling characteristic of limerence. For limerence to really take root in the mind, there needs to be a tantalizing balance of hope and uncertainty. Hope that they will one day love you back; uncertainty that you’ve found the one.
Tennov writes: “For the process to develop fully, some form of uncertainty or doubt, or even some threat to reciprocation, appears necessary. There is considerable evidence that an externally imposed obstacle, such as Romeo and Juliet met in the resistance of family and society, may also serve.”
As Saph put it so brilliantly, “Limerence is the daughter of faith and distance.”
According to Tennov, limerence ends in three ways: consummation, starvation, or transformation.
Consummation refers to reciprocation, which then turns to either lasting love or a very messy breakup. Starvation refers to the eventual death of limerence after being denied for too long, and transformation refers to the transfer of limerence to a new LO.
Save consummation, these are all quite depressing ways of having a love story, however one-sided, come to an end. To love is to learn. To love is to understand. To love is to let go.
Different people have different suggestions for overcoming limerence. Some say rejection is key. For others, time heals. Distract yourself, they say. People express their fear of never getting over their LO. There have been cases of limerences lasting for decades. Isaac’s advice was not to let your limerence consume your life and heart. Saph implored suffering limerents to step out of themselves and look at their relationship critically, truly dissecting their feelings.
“It’s tough, it’s hard on the heart, on the human soul, but you have to do it, you need to do it - hell, do it for them (the LO).”
Limerence, in my opinion, is the name of the liminal space between love and obsession. It is the transitional space between two stages of being, with the potential of growing into something deeper, more meaningful, or regress into an unhealthy, unfulfilling, and overall pathetic affair. Both ways it’s a learning experience, sure. But a little bit of self-reflection can pull you back to reality.
We get in our heads when we believe we’re in love with someone. Popular film and media have conditioned us to dedicate so much of our energy into finding our forever person, and then pinning all our hopes and expectations on them. The most heartbreaking way for limerence to end is in the loss of a friendship. What could have been a very good thing, a forever thing, a kind and loving relationship, ends up slowly dying from the burden of unrequited romance.
Recognizing your limerent object as a complete person, as someone who is as whole and complex as anyone else, could be the thing that saves you.
You can’t control who you fall in love with. Definitely can’t control if they’ll love you back, or want you the way you want them. Sometimes heartbreak is in the cards, simple as that. Can’t avoid it. But it doesn’t have to be the end of the world. It doesn’t have to be the end of a relationship. It doesn’t have to be the end of the story.
Limerence can seriously impact our well-being - mentally, physically, spiritually, AND conceptually (shoutout to high school limerence who fucked up my conception of love for years) - and that should be acknowledged, but it is also important to see it as potentially a good thing. As an opportunity to grow and learn, and, ultimately, become a more loving person.
You write so well!
This says it all! And composed beautifully too