Dear Emma:

After sending you my last message, I was driving to the farm when something struck me. You mentioned that Philip could be judgmental—and that it was something you didn’t like. But as I thought more about it, I wondered: if you grew up with a judgmental parent, then a partner with similar traits might hold a strange kind of emotional pull.

Not because it feels good—but because it holds a deep hope, something like: maybe this time, I’ll be the exception. Maybe this person will finally give me the full acceptance I longed for growing up. It becomes a quiet wish to rewrite the old story—by winning over someone who reminds you of the one you couldn’t reach. It’s like trying to heal an old wound in a new way.

And often, when someone is already kind and accepting from the start… they don’t spark that same emotional charge. Because there’s no struggle. No uphill climb to earn love.

That thought came to me before I even read your latest messages, where you wrote: “He reminded me of my father and brother: my father being bossy and forceful at times, telling me I should not be so dreamy/absent minded … I do think I could see through his shell, and saw his softness on the inside… They say you look for someone who is like your father (as a girl).”-

He reminded you of your father—bossy, judgmental—and that might have been part of the appeal. Maybe what drew you to him was the chance to finally reach the softness you never got from your father. A second chance at something unfinished.

About why I said I don’t think he was compatible with you—it’s because he talked too much about himself, didn’t ask you questions about you, and was judgmental toward your innocent, lovely ways of being. The dynamic I mentioned above—trying to rewrite a parental story within a romantic relationship—doesn’t build compatibility. It tends to create intensity, emotional upheaval, and often, disappointment.

I just read the last sentence in your third post: “I must say have a tendency for limerence too – I do believe it is connected.”- yes, I believe it is connected. Limerence often involves intense infatuation with someone who feels emotionally just out of reach—someone who may be inconsistent, distant, in ways that create emotional hunger and longing. That dynamic can feel magnetic for someone whose parental and other early experiences of love were shaped by conditional approval, criticism, or the need to “earn” warmth from a parent.

So if your father was bossy and judgmental—it’s very possible that a person like Philip, who mirrored some of those same traits, lit up something familiar and unfinished in your emotional world. The hope, often unconscious, is: maybe I can finally win over this version of my father. That “winning over” becomes the emotional thrill of limerence.

In other words: the more emotionally unavailable or critical the person is, the more it triggers the old script—the quest for love, validation, and proof of worth. It’s not just attraction, it’s an emotional reenactment. And limerence, with all its highs and lows, can feel intoxicating because it mimics that unpredictable search for acceptance she may have experienced growing up.

Does all this sound true to you?

Your work at the bookstore sounds like such a perfect fit for you, and your dressing up for Renaissance Fairs and eccentric clothing —sound absolutely lovely.

As for my day, I did a lot of mowing out on the big farm and spent some time cutting back blackberries. Unfortunately, while doing that, a stinging nettle brushed against my hand… and now it itches, burns, and tingles 😞

Anita