Maybe you’ve heard about limerence, a trending phenomenon on social media that describes the mental state of being madly infatuated with someone on the internet. Limerence is gaining media coverage.
“Why is everyone talking about limerence?” asked a May article in Salon. Psychology Today ran a story on it in March. It was the subject of an article at the Washington Post in March explaining that “social media is fueling an intense form of romantic obsession.” The May movie Obsession generated much online commentary because of its connection to limerence.
Fueled by the addictive power of social media, limerence — a term that originates with psychologist Dorothy Tennov, who described it as “being in love” but of an all-absorbing character — represents yet one more false god in the American quest for love and fulfillment. As many have observed, limerence engenders self-destructive behaviors. However, I would argue that beyond simply offering an unrealistic, self-absorbed take on romantic love, because of our digital age it has become the safe option and reflects the overly cautious character of contemporary romance.
Social Media Makes Limerence Even More Addictive
Although most of us can remember a time, often in adolescence, when we had a certain unhealthy, obsessive quality with a romantic interest, social media has dramatically changed this for everyone’s dating scene, not just for teenagers.
“A lot of young people effectively use Instagram as a dating app and as the main arena where social positioning happens,” former Meta software engineer Matt Hannan recently told the Washington Post.
Yet neuroscientist Tom Bellamy told WaPo his research found half of adults experience limerence. It sends stronger dopamine signals and weakens the executive functioning of the brain, responsible for regulating desire. It’s the “natural equivalent of heroin,” says Bellamy.
We already know how social media makes it money from dopamine hits from the ephemeral pleasure of the endless scroll. The limerence phenomenon gets its oxygen from that same addictive character of social media.
“Limerence episodes,” in which someone descends into obsessive behavior about a romantic interest, are said to last longer in the digital age, because of the unprecedented amount of information we can access about our “love interest.” Users can spend endless hours trying to make sense of various “signals,” even something simple such as “liking” a photo.
Romeo And Juliet As A Warning To The Infatuated
One of the greatest love stories in the Western canon, Romeo and Juliet, illustrates limerence at work. I would submit to you that Romeo is the unequivocal villain of the story. For starters, he kills more people than does anyone else in the play.
First, in Act 3, he murders the hot-tempered Tybalt, Juliet’s cousin. Then, in the final scene at Juliet’s tomb, he murders Count Paris, the other man courting the beautiful, young Capulet. That fact alone — typically ignored by modern interpreters — should serve as a caution.
Consider also Romeo’s character. When we first meet him, he’s infatuated with Rosaline, a cousin of Juliet’s (isn’t that a little weird?) who does not return his affection. He declares of Rosaline, “One fairer than my love? the all-seeing sun; Ne’er saw her match since first the world begun!” That feeling holds for all about five seconds, until he sees Juliet.
This is what romantic infatuation looks like, something modern adaptations of the play have (sadly) obscured given our own naive cultural dedication to youthful “love.” Yes, Romeo and Juliet’s untimely and unnecessary deaths — which, we should remember, are suicides — result in the warring Montagues and Capulets coming to peace. But should we not be aggrieved, even incensed, that Juliet, who has barely reached puberty, has been seduced by this emotive, irrational, ne’er-do-well? Every father should hope better for his daughter than Romeo.
Far from being a celebratory story of adolescent love, Romeo and Juliet is a cautionary tale of the dangers of romantic infatuation. Romeo is a lustful idiot, a man whose passions have overwhelmed whatever virtue he possesses. Juliet is so young and impressionable as to be easily deceived by a handsome, smooth-talking delinquent. The consequence of their tryst is their deaths, as well as the deaths of family members and friends, all demonstrably avoidable.
Real Romance Is Dangerous In The Right Way
Pace Romeo, real romance is defined by thoughtful virtue that prioritizes the personhood and good of the other. It honors and celebrates that person, appreciating his or her unique qualities based on a reflection that requires time and energy to explore. It is willing to suffer through the experience of both restraining passions while being vulnerable. It allows the facade of confidence and control we project in the hopes of being understood and loved for who we are.
Limerence aims to lazily shortcut this process of longsuffering for the sake of personal gratification rather than actually loving the other (or being really loved). The process of idolizing the other, far from exemplifying love, is self-indulgent and self-absorbed, because we are exploiting the person by cramming him or her into a bizarre template defined by our whimsical fantasies (which isn’t good for us). The “limerent” person isn’t sacrificing or engaging in self-offering as much as demanding someone else satisfy himself.
Social media-driven limerence means we can do all of this obsessing with minimal exposure to ourselves — you don’t have to try to develop a relationship with someone who you admire and trust only to be rejected. You don’t even have to smile at that love interest across a crowded room at a party, only to see the person direct their gaze at another.
You can simply gaze from afar via the anonymity of your computer or smartphone screen. You don’t need to ever even see the person in the flesh. It is the safest, most risk-averse way of indulging in romantic passions, and one whose quixotic fantasies can be imagined in a million different selfish scenarios.
Real romance is dangerous in the right way, in that when we try to truly love someone and it doesn’t work out, we grow in virtue and character, and when it does, we rejoice that another person loves us for who we truly are, as we do them. Limerence is a mere simulacrum of this, buoyed by self-absorbed fantasy. It is a trend that, magnified by social media, is so safe the only risk is unrequited longing — until we find the next person to obsess over, just like Romeo.
