How To Tell If You're In A One-Sided Relationship

Dubbed the "scientific Carrie Bradshaw" by The Observer, Canadian relationship expert Amy Chan has garnered worldwide coverage for her Breakup Bootcamp and Dating Bootcamps, intensive retreats aimed at either post-relationship healing or attracting and maintaining healthy relationships. She says most singles aren’t failing at love because they need years of therapy or a complete personality overhaul. Instead, they’re stuck in a recurring pattern—and once that pattern is identified and interrupted, everything changes. Her new book, Unsingle (on sale April 28), tackles those patterns, and shows readers how to build lasting connections. In this excerpt, Chan discusses the type of intense infatuation known as limerence, and how to know if what you're experiencing is the kind of limerence that leads to love—or the kind that keeps you trapped.

Have you ever been so intoxicated by someone that the more love you gave them, the more you hated yourself?

The feeling of being with them, winning them, proving yourself worthy of their attention, is so powerful that you feel like you have no control. Something beyond your logical mind takes over, making you chase this connection despite the consequences. 

I’m not talking about butterflies—I’m talking about the kind of love that feels like a tornado, tearing through your life, leaving you desperate, disoriented and somehow still begging for more. 

Love addiction. Pathological love. Love anorexia. These are some of the labels that attempt to define what many experience but few admit: that all-consuming infatuation that overrides rational thinking and keeps you hooked on someone who may not even want you back. 

For years, I lived in this pattern without realizing it. I fixated on emotionally unavailable men, convinced that if I could just win their love, I’d finally feel whole. 

That search brought me to a retreat in Tulum. I was partnered with a guy wearing a baseball cap and a white linen shirt. "Hello, hello. I'm Ben," he smiled. 

From that moment, we were inseparable. We spent the rest of the retreat together, moving through the days as if we were a couple—going on hikes together, swimming in cenotes, relaxing in hammocks late into the night. Each moment felt effortless, like we had known each other for lifetimes. 

After seven days of existing in our own little world, the retreat was coming to an end.

I asked, "What do you think happens with us back in the real world?"

"I'd love to keep seeing you. But you should know I'm not looking for a relationship right now." 

I felt my chest immediately tighten. I decided to focus on the real message of what he was conveying. He couldn't be in a relationship right now. Aha! So I decided to do what any respectable soulmate would. I'd wait for him to be ready. 

For the next two years, my heart belonged to Ben. It didn't matter that he was often hard to reach or that I only saw him every few months. What mattered was that we had a special connection and if I stuck around long enough, eventually, he'd realize I was the one for him. 

But eventually, Ben's texts trickled in less and less. The already occasional dates became nonexistent. I felt desperate. My stomach was in knots. Even though I thought I'd made significant progress since my breakup with [my ex-boyfriend] Adam, here I was again—spiraling in the same anxious patterns, triggered by the same old fear of abandonment. 

If I’m honest, there have been different versions of "Ben" throughout my life. They all represented the same thing—the hope that their love would make me feel whole. 

What I didn't realize at the time was that I wasn't in love with Ben. I was addicted to the feeling of longing for him. 

Limerence is more than just a crush. It's a psychological state of infatuation so intense, it hijacks your brain. It floods you with dopamine at the mere thought of the person, making you fixate on every interaction, every message—or worse, the silence between them. It's the constant overanalysis of what they meant when they said, "Let's hang out sometime." It's searching for signs that they secretly love you back. 

Limerence has a funny way of making you ignore reality. And reality was: I was in a relationship with someone who wasn't in a relationship with me. 

Ben was my limerent object—the person I had unknowingly placed at the centre of my emotional universe. He wasn't just a man; he was a symbol. In my fantasy, he was the missing piece that would unlock the life I dreamed of. I saw him as a ticket to adventure, to passion, to happiness. 

Limerence isn't just a feeling—it's a neurochemical event. Studies show that when someone is in a limerent state, the brain's reward system lights up in ways eerily similar to drug addiction. The same dopamine pathways that make substances like cocaine and opioids addictive are activated when we're fixated on a person who gives us just enough attention to keep the fantasy alive. 

But here’s the catch—not all limerence is unhealthy. A degree of limerence is actually normal in falling in love. That can't-stop-thinking-about-them feeling is nature's way of helping people bond initially. In a healthy relationship, that infatuation naturally evolves into a secure connection where love can grow. 

Unhealthy limerence is different. Instead of deepening into intimacy, it remains trapped in a cycle of obsession and unfulfilled longing. Rather than feeling secure, you feel constantly anxious. Fantasy replaces reality. 

So how do you know if what you're experiencing is the kind of limerence that leads to love—or the kind that keeps you trapped?

Take a moment and answer honestly:

• Do you spend an excessive amount of time thinking about them, even when they're not around? 
• Do you overanalyze their texts, conversations, or body language, searching for hidden meaning? 
• Do you feel a sense of euphoria when they show interest, followed by deep lows when they pull away? 
• Do you put them on a pedestal, believing they are "the one" or the only person who could make you happy? 
• Have you overlooked or justified red flags, making excuses for their behaviour? 

If you checked several of these boxes, you may be experiencing limerence. Unlike love, which deepens and stabilizes over time, limerence thrives on uncertainty and emotional starvation. 

It's not about connection—it's about craving. It's not about loving—it's about longing. 

Excerpted from Unsingle: How to Date Smarter and Create Love That Lasts by Amy Chan. Copyright © 2026 by Amy Chan. Published by Collins, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers Ltd. All rights reserved.