Whenever I meet someone new and feel my system go on alert, I pause and ask myself, is this a reaction from past trauma, or is my intuition sensing red flags? The answer usually comes in an instant, which is quite uncanny.
But when I feel at ease, when my body softens instead of braces, when conversation flows without effort, that’s my signal, too. It’s that recognition of safety, what I call a green flag of the nervous system. No adrenaline, only presence. Steady breath, energy grounded. It’s not excitement, it’s calm clarity. Like strolling along Lio Beach at sunset kinda feeling.
That’s how I know someone’s energy isn’t disrupting my peace, it’s aligning with it.
So a friend asked recently, why do we get along better with friends than with a romantic partner?
At the thought of turning this into an art series, here are a few reflections that surfaced:
LOVE OFTEN REACTIVATES THE OLD WOUND.
When we fall for someone, our attachment wiring wakes up, the same one that bonded us to our first caregivers. This isn’t just nostalgia; it’s a limbic memory (yes, definitely Science!) Our nervous system recognizes the tone of love, or the lack of it, from long ago. Yaiks! and ouch!
That’s why a small silence or shift in attention from a lover can feel like abandonment. The body remembers.
I also learned recently that if you were abandoned by your mother or father at ten years old, you’ll react like a ten-year-old when that abandonment wound is triggered, even if you’re now grown enough to be a parent yourself. Is a grown up person acting extremely immature around you? This could be it.
ROMANCE IS A MIRROR STAGE ALL OVER AGAIN.
We project our potential selves, our unlived parts, onto the person we love. In friendships, we share what we already know of ourselves. In love, we meet who we could be. So when conflict cracks that mirror, it’s not just about losing someone, it’s about losing a reflection of our becoming.
AND CHEMISTRY ISN’T JUST A METAPHOR.
Romance literally rewires our biochemistry, dopamine drives the high, oxytocin deepens the bond, cortisol fuels the chaos. It’s not just emotional; it’s hormonal entanglement. The body fuses two emotional ecosystems into one, which is why breakups feel more like withdrawal than sadness.
That’s how I actually learned the importance of boundaries.. giving each other the proper space to heal. I’m truly grateful for my ex-partner for that lesson. Seriously. (What a strong person, that one! We’re not like those ex-couples that sabotage their present lives.)
In friendships, we mostly operate from our persona, the self that’s polite, witty, composed. But love calls out the shadow self: the jealous, insecure, tender parts we hide even from ourselves. Romance doesn’t just show us who we love; it shows us what’s unhealed within us. It’s an emotional excavation, not a vacation.
ENERGY FIELDS DON’T LIE.
Romantic bonds create a kind of shared frequency. Our electromagnetic hearts actually sync rhythms, science has recorded this. That’s why one partner’s tension or withdrawal can instantly shift the other’s mood. It’s not just “vibe,” it’s bioenergetic resonance. Friendships hold space. Romance shares space.
FRIENDSHIPS KEEP US STEADY, LOVE PUSHES US TO EVOLVE.
Romance is the cosmic test. A mirror and a teacher. Every trigger is an invitation to heal what’s still fragmented inside. It’s not here to make us comfortable… it’s here to make us whole.
Maybe that’s what I’m drawn to explore in my next artworks, how some connections set the system on alert, while others make it exhale.
It’s fascinating how the body always knows before the mind does.
And honestly, this kind of clarity only comes once you’ve truly taken the steps to heal. Once you’re “in-tuned.” When you’re still wounded, it’s different… so, so different. There’s desperation, the need to prove or perform, those little “band-aid” tactics to cover what still hurts instead of being just honest about it. Sometimes, you even chase it to the point of near self-destruction. You just don’t want to be like that, because you’d never want to be with anyone like that.
I guess art, much like love, is also a nervous system thing, it feels safe, or it doesn’t. And when it does, that’s when truth begins to flow.
I wish each of you the love you truly deserve. May you release what’s no longer yours, and make room for what’s meant to begin anew.
If you’re in a relationship, be brave enough to see it for what it truly is. Don’t romanticize pain or call attachment love. Real love feels peaceful, not performative.
And if you’re part of my past– the real part– I wish you well.
Let go.
Move forward.
And if you’re living under an illusion, it’s time to step back into your reality.
I create digital and traditional art inspired by nature, music, life, and spirituality. writeme@lheanstorm.com for Commissions, Web3 collabs & Inquiries.
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