Stop Chasing the Spark. It’s Lying to You

You know that feeling. The one where your stomach does a backflip, your palms get sweaty, and you suddenly forget how to form complete sentences. We’ve been told our whole lives that this is it — the magnetic pull, the electricity, the undeniable “spark” that separates a boring coffee date from the beginning of a movie-worthy romance.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth no one wants to admit: that spark is often just anxiety wearing a fancy disguise.

Think about it. The person who keeps you guessing, who texts just enough to keep you hooked but never enough to feel secure, who feels like a puzzle you need to solve — that’s not passion. That’s your nervous system lighting up like a pinball machine because it doesn’t know what’s coming next. And we’ve somehow confused that rollercoaster with love.

The Chemistry Trap

I watched my best friend date the same person four different times over three years. Different names, same script. Every time, she’d call me breathless after the first date: “I don’t know what it is about him. There’s just something there.” And every time, six weeks later, she’d be sitting on my couch, baffled, wondering why someone who made her feel so alive could also make her feel so invisible.

The answer is uncomfortable. We’re drawn to what feels familiar — not what’s good for us. If you grew up walking on eggshells, a calm, steady partner won’t feel like “chemistry.” It’ll feel boring. Meanwhile, someone unpredictable will feel exciting because your brain is literally replaying an old pattern it mistakes for home.

Meanwhile, the truly good ones? The ones who show up on time, who don’t play games, who actually listen when you talk? They get ghosted for being “too nice” or “too available.” We swipe past them looking for the next dopamine hit.

The Real Question No One Asks

Here’s what I’ve started asking myself — and I think you should too:

Does this person make me feel calm, or do they make me feel alive?

Because here’s the catch: feeling “alive” is temporary. It’s the high of a new job, the first day of a vacation, the opening night of a play. But love isn’t a performance. Love is what happens when the high wears off and you’re just two exhausted, messy humans trying to figure out dinner and who forgot to take out the trash.

Calm doesn’t sell movie tickets. No rom-com ends with the couple sitting in comfortable silence on a Tuesday night. But that’s where actual relationships live — not in the grand gestures, but in the thousand tiny, boring, unglamorous moments of choosing each other anyway.

What to Look for Instead

Next time you go on a date, ignore the butterflies. Actually, run from the butterflies if they feel like nausea.

Instead, notice this: Do you feel weirdly… safe? Can you be slightly awkward without panic? When you disagree about something small, do they get defensive or curious?

The best relationships I know didn’t start with fireworks. They started with a quiet “huh, that was easy.” No games. No guessing. Just two people who liked each other enough to be boring together from day one.

And here’s the part they don’t tell you: that quiet easiness becomes the fireworks later. Not the anxious, stomach-churning kind — the deep, warm kind that makes you realize you’d rather be bored with this person than electrified with anyone else.

So yeah, stop chasing the spark. You might just be chasing your own trauma in a leather jacket. Look for the calm instead. It’s quieter, sure. But it also doesn’t leave.

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This post was previously published on medium.com.