There are forces in this world capable of profoundly altering the course of a life, reshaping personality from the inside out. We often discuss substances—medications carefully used in medicine that, outside of that controlled context, can lead to dependencies that unravel a person’s existence. But have you ever stopped to consider the sheer, unadulterated power of human attraction? A strong pull towards another person can mirror the intensity of potent stimulants, capable of fundamentally changing who we are, how we think, and how we perceive reality. It’s a force both beautiful and potentially perilous, and understanding the line where healthy connection deepens into something more consuming, perhaps even addictive, is crucial.

Think back to the genesis of a connection, those early moments of getting to know someone. There’s a certain clarity there, isn't there? There is you, a distinct individual with your own thoughts, feelings, and boundaries. There is the other person, equally separate, equally whole. And between you exists a spark – call it chemistry, fascination, love, passion, or simple, powerful attraction. This initial stage often represents attraction in its healthiest form. You recognize your own self, and you recognize the other as a sovereign being. When you operate from this space of acknowledging their separate reality, your actions tend to be the most constructive. You focus your energy on understanding them, on fostering a reciprocal feeling, on building a bridge rather than claiming territory. Often, this approach yields genuine connection.

But sometimes, a shift occurs. The ground beneath your feet feels less solid. The clear boundaries begin to blur. This is where the trouble often starts – when the perception shifts, and the other person starts to feel less like a separate individual you are drawn to, and more like an essential part of you, almost like a phantom limb you can’t bear to be without. Simultaneously, your own intense attraction might start to feel less like a feeling originating within you, and more like something imposed upon you from the outside.

It’s in this distorted space that strange thoughts can take root. You might begin to suspect the object of your affection is employing some hidden technique, some arcane knowledge of seduction, performing subtle rituals designed to capture your mind. The narrative flips: it’s no longer about your attraction to them, but about their perceived mission to possess your thoughts and feelings. But let’s pause here and consider: rarely is someone else actively trying to seize control of a mind that is, in the throes of such intense feelings, already willingly oriented towards them. The feeling of being controlled often stems from the overwhelming nature of one's own internal state.

The deeper this feeling of dependency grows, the more common it becomes to assign blame. Instead of examining the nature of one's own powerful draw, the focus shifts outwards. We hear narratives of being ensnared by a cunning manipulator, or entangled with someone exhibiting traits associated with challenging personality types like narcissism or psychopathy. Both individuals in such a dynamic might privately feel they are highly desirable, caught in a game where they are the prize. Yet, an outside observer might see clearly who is clinging and who is perhaps indifferent or even repelled. The refusal to honestly examine the source and nature of one's own consuming attraction leads to offloading responsibility onto the other person, labeling them with terms that obscure the internal reality.

Consider those labeled as "narcissists" or "manipulators" in these scenarios. Often, the dynamic described isn't one where they are drawing genuine energy or satisfaction from the other's distress. True connection, even the thrill sought by those who do play games, often requires a sense of engaging with an equal, someone who presents a challenge or reflects a certain strength. A person perceived as lost in their own emotional storm, perpetually feeling victimized, rarely provides that kind of stimulating engagement. The "high," if any, is fleeting and unsatisfying, even for those with less than noble intentions. Anyone can appear like a masterful strategist pulling the strings when you feel utterly powerless against the tide of your own feelings. If you lose the ability to manage your internal world, the external world will inevitably feel overwhelming and orchestrated against you.

Remember the initial clarity? You were standing on your own two feet, aware of your actions and motivations. Then comes that critical moment – perhaps subtle at first – where you sense yourself being drawn into something overwhelming, a kind of emotional vortex. This is the point where control over your own attraction begins to slip away. It feels less like a choice and more like an inevitability.

We likely all know someone, or have ourselves experienced, a situation that felt like being victimized by a skilled emotional player. The story often involves a partner labeled with a clinical-sounding term. It might be tempting to imagine a hidden pasture where all these difficult personalities congregate, but such a place doesn't exist. What does exist is the individual's own powerful, perhaps unmanageable, attraction.

Let’s illustrate with a simple example. Imagine a man interested in getting to know a woman. He takes a couple of steps towards her, expresses interest, but receives no clear signal of reciprocation. If his attraction is manageable, balanced with an awareness of her response (or lack thereof), he might feel a twinge of disappointment but can detach and move on, his sense of self intact. Now, consider another man in the same situation. If his internal blocks against unchecked emotional investment are absent, if his attraction overrides his perception of external cues, he might plunge headfirst into pursuing her, interpreting silence or ambiguity through the lens of his own intense desire. Later, if things end painfully, he might recount a story of how a manipulative woman led him on and damaged his life. The perceived "manipulator" didn't break the first man's life because he retained the ability to see her actions and responses, not just the reflection of his own powerful feelings.

Certainly, there are individuals who are adept at emotional games, who derive a thrill from navigating complexities and overcoming resistance. These people might constitute a small fraction of the population, perhaps that anecdotal 1%. Meeting such a person is statistically unlikely for most. Importantly, their focus is often not on building a stable relationship but on the challenge itself – the pursuit, the overcoming of barriers. The satisfaction comes from conquering the obstacle, not necessarily from the connection that follows. Remember this distinction: the thrill is often in the chase and the perceived victory over resistance, not in the quiet aftermath of mutual relating.

So, how do we avoid endlessly circling this drain of blame and confusion, constantly trying to diagnose the other person? The fundamental realization is this: the intense attraction, the consuming feeling, originates within you. It is your feeling, and while you might not be able to switch it off like a light, you can learn to navigate it, manage it, and understand its roots. This involves cultivating self-awareness, recognizing when your perception is becoming skewed, and consciously choosing actions based not just on the intensity of your internal state, but also on the reality of the other person's behavior and the dynamics of the interaction. It's about reclaiming your own center of gravity.

References

• Fisher, H. E. (2004). Why We Love: The Nature and Chemistry of Romantic Love. Henry Holt and Company.
  This book delves into the brain chemistry associated with romantic love, drawing parallels between the neurochemical states of intense attraction and those found in addiction (e.g., dopamine pathways). It helps explain why attraction can feel so powerful and consuming, effectively "rewiring" our focus and motivation, aligning with the article's theme of attraction radically changing personality. Fisher explores the biological basis for the obsessive thinking and craving characteristic of early-stage intense romance.

• Peele, S., & Brodsky, A. (1975). Love and Addiction. Taplinger Publishing Company.
  A seminal work that explicitly argues that love relationships can become genuine addictions. Peele and Brodsky define addiction not just by substance use, but as any compulsive involvement that is damaging yet difficult to stop. They describe how relationships can become centered on dependency, possessing the other, and losing one's sense of self, directly mirroring the article's discussion of unhealthy attraction, blurred boundaries, and the feeling of being consumed. See Chapters 3 ("Love: The Ultimate Addiction?") and 4 ("Addictive Love") for core arguments.