10/08/2025
Love addiction isn’t about love. S*x addiction isn’t about s*x.
They’re both about escape.
About trying to fill the hollow space where safety should’ve been.
About chasing a high that briefly drowns the ache of not feeling enough, not seen, not chosen.
We call it passion. Chemistry.
But underneath, it’s often anxiety dressed as desire. That magnetic pull isn’t always connection; sometimes it’s recognition. Your nervous system remembering the chaos it grew up in. Or thirsty for love and connection you never received.
The truth is, addiction to love or s*x is rarely about craving another person. It’s about craving the version of yourself that only exists when you’re wanted. That temporary relief when someone’s eyes say, “You matter.”
But it never lasts. Because when the high fades, the ache returns. And the cycle begins again—another hit, another promise, another heartbreak.
Real healing starts when you stop chasing intensity and start building capacity.
Capacity for stillness—
to sit with the void instead of rushing to fill it.
Capacity for solitude—
to learn that aloneness isn’t abandonment, it’s sovereignty.
Capacity for love that doesn’t flood your system,
but quietly grounds it.
This kind of love won’t make your hands shake.
It won’t keep you checking your phone, waiting for a fix. It’s not the rollercoaster, it’s the steady hum. The deep exhale. The slow rebuild of safety.
It’s the love that asks you to stay when your old wiring screams run. To let your body relearn that calm isn’t boredom, and peace isn’t punishment.
When you build that capacity,
you stop mistaking intensity for intimacy.
And that’s when the addiction loses its grip—
because you finally realize you were never starving for someone else.
You were starving for regulation.
For home inside your own body.